Mr. Stevenson has given an interesting description of his cabin in the beacon, where he had passed many weeks ‘in a kind of active retirement, making practical experiment of the fewness of the positive wants of man.’ This cabin measured not more than four feet three inches in breadth on the floor; and though, from the oblique direction of the beams of the structure, it widened towards the top, yet it did not admit of the full expansion of his arms when he stood on the floor, while its length was little more than sufficient for suspending a cot-bed during the night. This was tied up to the roof during the day, thus leaving free room for the admission of occasional visitants. ‘His folding-table was attached with hinges immediately under the small window of the apartment, and his books, barometer, thermometer, portmanteau, and two or three camp-stools, formed the bulk of his moveables. His diet being plain, the paraphernalia of the table were proportionably simple, though every thing had the appearance of comfort, and even of neatness, the walls being covered with green cloth formed into panels with red tape, and his bed festooned with curtains of yellow cotton-stuff. If, in speculating upon the absolute wants of man in such a state of seclusion, one was reduced to a single book, the Sacred Volume, whether considered for the striking divinity of its story--the morality of its doctrine--or the important truths of its Gospel, would have proved by far the greatest treasure.’ As the building rose in height the action of the sea upon it was regarded with much interest. When the wind was blowing, accompanied with a heavy surf upon the rock, the appearance towards high water is described as being very grand and wonderful. Waves of considerable magnitude rose as high as the solid or level of the entrance-door which was to the leeward; but on the windward side the sprays flew like lightning up the sloping sides of the building, occasionally wetting the artificers, and interrupting their operations on the top of the walls. In the early part of July, the works being nearly completed, great interest was excited by a visit from Mrs. Dickson, the only daughter and surviving relative of Mr. Smeaton. She was conveyed to the building on board the ‘Smeaton,’ which had been thus spontaneously named by the engineer from the sense of the obligation which a public work of the description of the Bell Rock owed to the labours and abilities of Mr. Smeaton. Mrs. Dickson seemed to be quite overcome with the many concurrent circumstances which tended in a peculiar manner to revive and enliven the memory of her departed father.