ay in bad weather for fear of it, and many captains, in their
anxiety to keep clear of it, ran their vessels in the neighbouring
coasts and perished.

Another proof that numerous wrecks took place there lay in the fact that
the fishermen were wont to visit the rock after every gale, for the
purpose of gathering wreckage. It was resolved, therefore, about the
beginning of this century, to erect a lighthouse on the Inchcape Rock,
and to Mr Robert Stevenson, Engineer at that time to the Board of
Northern Lights, was assigned the task of building it. He began the
work in August 1807, and finished it in February 1811.

I began my sojourn in the Bell Rock Lighthouse with breakfast. On
ascending to the kitchen I found Stout preparing it. Mr Long, the
chief, offered, with delicate hospitality, to carry my meals up to the
library, so that I might feast in dignified solitude, but I declined the
honour, preferring to fraternise with the men in the kitchen. Breakfast
over, they showed me through the tower--pointed out and explained
everything--especially the lantern and the library--in which last I
afterwards read Mr Stevenson's interesting volume on the building of
the Bell Rock; a book which has been most appropriately styled the
_Robinson Crusoe_ of Engineering literature.

On returning to the entrance-door, I found that there was now _no land_!
The tide had risen. The lighthouse was a mere pillar in the sea.
"Water, water everywhere"--nothing else visible save the distant coast
of Forfarshire like a faint blue line on the horizon. But in the
evening the tide again fell, and, the moment the rock was uncovered, we
descended. Then Mr Long showed me the various points of interest about
the rock, and Stout volunteered anecdotes connected with these, and
Young corroborated and expounded everything with intense enthusiasm.
Evidently Young rejoiced in the rare opportunity my visit afforded him
of breaking the monotony of life on the Bell Rock. He was like a caged
bird, and on one occasion expressed his sentiments very forcibly by
saying to me, "Oh, sir, I sometimes wish I could jump up and never come
doon!" As for Long and Stout, they had got used to lighthouses and
monotony. The placid countenance of each was a sure index of the
profound tranquillity within!

Small though it was, the rock was a very world in itself to the
residents--crowded with "ports," and "wharves" and "ledges," which had
reference to the building-ti