The Eddystone lighthouse, as Mr. Smiles remarks, has now withstood the storms of a century, and at the moment we write it still occupies its advanced position, in front of the dangerous south-western coast, a remarkable monument to the genius and perseverance of its architect. At times, when the swell of the Atlantic rushes up the Channel with more than ordinary violence, impelled by a south-west wind, its tall pillar is shrouded in thick wreaths of spray, and its keen light-star for a moment is obscured. But the cloud passes, and again the welcome radiance streams across the waters, at once a guide and a warning to the homeward-bound. Occasionally a strong wave will strike full upon it, and its central portion, swiftly gliding up the perpendicular shaft, leaps, with one tremendous bound, over the lantern. At other times, a billow will break against it with a fury which seems to menace the security of its foundation. To those within, the report is like that of heavy artillery, and the windows rattle, and the whole building quivers from top to base. But the shudder which then runs throughout the lighthouse, instead of being a sign of weakness, is the "strongest proof of the unity and close connection of the fabric in all its parts." [Sidenote: "The Eddystone in sight!"] "Many a heart has leapt with gladness at the cry of 'The Eddystone in sight!' sung out from the main-top. Homeward-bound ships, from far-off ports, no longer avoid the dreaded rock, but eagerly run for its light as the harbinger of safety. It might even seem as if Providence had placed the reef so far out at sea as the foundation for a beacon such as this, leaving it to man's skill and labour to finish His work. On entering the English Channel from the west and south, the cautious navigator feels his way by careful soundings on the great bank which extends from the Channel into the Atlantic; and these are repeated at fixed intervals until land is in sight. Every fathom nearer shore increases a ship's risks, especially in nights when, to use the seaman's phrase, it is 'as dark as a pocket.' The men are on the lookout, peering anxiously into the dark, straining the eye to catch the glimmer of a light; and when it is known that 'the Eddystone is in sight,' a thrill runs through the ship, which can only be appreciated by those who have felt or witnessed it after long months of weary voyaging. Its gleam across the waters has thus been a source of joy, and given a sense of relief to thousands; for the beaming of a clear light from one known and fixed spot is infallible in its truthfulness, and a safer guide for the seaman than the bearings of many hazy and ill-defined headlands." [Sidenote: Usefulness of the lighthouse.]