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.

The 29th of July was a day of great rejoicing at the Bell Rock. The last stone was landed, and that it might lose none of its honours, the same praam-boat with which the first stone of the building had been landed was appointed also to carry the last. The weather being remarkably fine, all the ships and the craft hoisted flags; the praam which carried the stone was towed by the seamen in gallant style to the rock, and on its arrival cheers were given as a finale to the landing department. On the next day, the ninetieth or last course of the building having been laid, the lintel of the light-door room, being the finishing stone of the exterior walls, was laid with due formality by the engineer, who at the same time pronounced the following benediction, ‘May the Great Architect of the Universe, under whose blessing this perilous work has prospered, preserve it as a guide to the mariner.’

The remaining details, referring chiefly to the completion of the interior of the lighthouse, are not of general interest. They were so far advanced by the end of the year 1810, that the light was advertised to the public to be exhibited every night from the 1st of February 1811. The advertisement stated the following particulars:—‘The light will be from oil, with reflectors placed at the height of about one hundred and eight feet above the medium level of the sea. To distinguish this light from others on the coast, it is made to revolve horizontally, and to exhibit a bright light of the natural appearance, and a red-coloured light alternately, both respectively attaining their greatest strength, or most luminous effect, in the space of every four minutes; during that period the bright light will, to a distant observer, appear like a star of the first magnitude, which after attaining its full strength is gradually eclipsed to total darkness, and is succeeded by the red-coloured light, which in like manner increases to full strength and again diminishes and disappears. The coloured light, however, being less powerful, may not be seen for a time after the bright light is first observed. During the continuance of foggy weather and showers of snow, a bell will be tolled by machinery, night and day, at intervals of half a minute.’ By this management the light was found to be so powerful as to be seen and readily distinguished at the distance of six or seven leagues in a clear atmosphere. On the exhibition of this light the floating light was discontinued.

Having thus traced the building through some of its principal stages, a brief view in its complete state may here be desirable. This lighthouse is a circular building, forty-two feet in diameter at the base and thirteen feet in diameter at the top. The masonry is one hundred feet high, and the whole structure, with the light-room, measures one hundred and fifteen feet. The ascent from the rock to the entrance-door is by a kind of trap-ladder, which is a difficult mode for any but the light-keepers, who are accustomed to it. Other persons are generally hoisted up in a chair by a moveable crane. From the entrance a circular stair leads to the first apartment, which contains the water, fuel, &c. The communication with the other apartments is by means of wooden steps. The three lower apartments have two windows each, and the upper rooms four windows each. All the windows have double sash-frames, glazed with plate-glass, besides storm-shutters of timber. The light-room is octagonal, twelve feet across and fifteen feet high. It is framed of cast iron and glazed with polished plate-glass, each plate measuring two feet six inches by two feet three inches, and being one-fourth of an inch thick. It is covered with a dome and terminates in a ball. It is also furnished with a lightning-conductor. In the year 1816, the whole exterior surface having become much discoloured by the sprays of the sea, was painted in oil of one uniform tint.

In the course of the first winter some interesting observations were made upon the action of the weather and the general appearance of the lighthouse. During rough weather a tremulous vibratory motion was found to affect the whole house. The tremour was especially felt in leaning against the walls in the upper apartments when the wind was blowing fresh, or when the house was struck by a sea or by a boat coming suddenly against it, and might be compared to that which is perceptible in a common house upon the slamming of particular doors, or when a carriage makes a rattling noise in passing along the streets. But this effect is attended with no real danger. The late eminent Professor Robison told Mr. Stevenson that when he visited the Eddystone Lighthouse, something having forcibly struck the building, he was sensible of a vibratory motion in one of the rooms in which he was then sitting; but instead of producing any alarm in his mind, he assured his friends that it was to him the strongest proof of the unity and connection of the fabric in all its parts.

During the storms of winter, Mr. Stevenson says that from the Forfarshire coast ‘the lighthouse appeared in one of its most interesting aspects, standing proudly among the waves while the sea around it was in the wildest state of agitation. The light-keepers did not seem to be in motion, but the scene was by no means still, as the noise and dashing of the waves were unceasing. The seas rose in the most surprising manner to the height of about seventy feet above the rock, and after expending their force in a perpendicular direction, fell in great quantities round the base of the lighthouse, while considerable portions of the spray were seen adhering, as it were, to the building, and gathering down its sides in the state of froth as white as snow. Some of the great waves burst and were expended upon the rock before they reached the building; while others struck the base, and embracing the walls, met on the western side of the house, where they dashed together and produced a most surprising quantity of foam.’

The regulations observed in attending the Bell-Rock may be briefly stated. The nearest town to the lighthouse is that of Aberbrothock, or Arbroath, in Forfarshire, about eleven miles distant. A handsome cutter, called ‘The Pharos,’ is stationed here as a tender to the lighthouse. This vessel goes off to the rock every fortnight, or in the course of each set of spring-tides, to relieve the light-keepers and to supply the house with fuel, provisions, &c. There are four lighthouse-keepers, three of whom are always on duty, while one is ashore. If the weather offers no impediment, the light-keepers are each six weeks at the rock and a fortnight ashore with their families. The salaries are from fifty to sixty guineas per annum, with a stated allowance for each man of bread, beef, butter, oatmeal, vegetables, and small-beer, with fourpence a day extra for tea, &c. They have also a suit of uniform clothes every third year. Mr. Stevenson says that the light-keepers were, upon the whole, pleased with their situation, and talked in a feeling manner of the hardships of mariners whom they often saw tossed about during the storms of winter.

According to the present system of Northern lighthouses, the watches in the light-room are as regularly relieved as on ship-board. The keeper is liable to immediate dismissal if he leave the light-room before being regularly relieved; and for securing order and regularity in this respect a time-piece is placed in each light-room, and bells are hung in the bed-rooms of the dwelling-houses. At some of the stations the light-room and the bed-rooms are connected by a set of tubes, by blowing gently into which the keepers on watch can sound an alarum-bell in the room below, and rouse his comrade to change guard. The man below answers this call by a counterblast through the tubes, and a small index in the light-room is thereby raised to signify that the signal has been obeyed.