the height of the house, and totally intercepting it from the sight. Of this column I made an eye-sketch at the time; and must further observe, that while I was in the lighthouse, I particularly noticed the manner in which the waves began to gather, during a gale, as soon as they came so near the house as to be sensible of the sloping rocks underneath them. Those waves, by degrees towering higher as they came nearer, formed a deep hollow sea at the foot of the building, and then falling into it, struck it with all imaginable fury.”

The necessity of employing individuals to inhabit this solitary, and often inaccessible, erection, gave rise to two incidents, which seem worthy of being recorded.

from

For many years after the establishment of the lighthouse, it was attended by only two men. Their duty was easy, consisting merely in lighting, snuffing, and renewing the candles during the night, which they did alternately, each watching four hours. It would be curious and instructive to know how two illiterate men spent their idle time in that voluntary prison, in the midst of the waves; what were their mutual communications, and on what terms they lived, cut off, as they were, intercourse with the rest of their kind, and unable, probably, from want of education, to improve their minds by reading. An anecdote is related, on the authority of Lord North, who mentioned it in the House of Commons, which shows that these men were not always on the habits of friendship, which were so necessary to their comfort. On one occasion, when some visitants happened to land on the rock, from motives of curiosity, one of them observed to the light-keeper, who was showing the works, how very comfortably they might there live, secured in a competency, at a distance from the turmoils of the world. "Yes," replied the man, 66 very comfortably, if we could but have the use of our tongues; but it is now a full month since my partner and I have spoken

This sketch is represented in an engraving in the frontispiece of the publication, which it is scarcely possible to look at without shuddering.

to each other." I fear that, in this anecdote, we have only an indication of the natural folly of the human heart, which, by the indulgence of selfish passions, aggravates the evils of its condition, and eludes the enjoyment of the good within its reach.

It is not known whether or not it be of these ill-assorted comrades, that the following distressing account is given. "It happened," says Mr Smeaton, "that one of the men was taken ill, and died; and, notwithstanding the Eddystone flag was hoisted, yet the weather was such for some time, as to prevent any boat from getting so near the rock, as to receive any communication. In this dilemma, the living man found himself in an awkward situation, being apprehensive, that, if he tumbled the dead body into the sea, which was the only way in his power to dispose of it, he might be charged with murder. This induced him, for some time, to let the dead corpse lie, in hopes that the boat might be able to land, and relieve him from the distress he was in. By degrees, the body became so offensive, that it was not in his power to get quit of it without help; for it was near a month before the attending boat could effect a landing; and then it was not without the greatest difficulty that it could be done, when they did land. To such a degree was the whole building filled with the stench of the corpse, that it was all they could do to get the dead body disposed of, and thrown into the sea." It is not easy to conceive a more uncomfortable situation than this, to a human being with a mind of any sensibility. Alone on the sea-beat rock, left to his own miserable reflections, with the putrifying remains of his companion beside him, to remind him of his own approaching end, to remind him also of mutual bickerings and injuries, perhaps of corrupting conversations, which would then press with unspeakable weight on his conscience,—without a regular employment to occupy his mind, without a friend to whom he could unburden his heart, perhaps

without any just views of religion, but with dark and awful forebodings,-there can scarcely be imagined any thing more appalling, or more full of lessons of spiritual instruction.

TWELFTH WEEK-THURSDAY.

ARCHITECTURE.-THE THAMES TUNNEL.

ONE of the most remarkable undertakings in modern times connected with architecture, is the attempt to form a communication between the two banks of the Thames, by means of a subterraneous passage or tunnel near Rotherhithe. This plan was first suggested by some private individuals in the year 1802, who formed themselves into a company, and, having taken surveys, obtained an act of Parliament, and under direction of an experienced architect, attempted to pioneer their course by means of a drift-way; but, after this preliminary work had been carried on for seven years, and had proceeded to a considerable extent, the whole scheme was abandoned as impracticable.

The celebrated Mr Brunel was at last applied to by one of the most spirited projectors of the undertaking; and this able engineer, having turned his attention to the subject, formed the bold plan of carrying on both the excavation and the structure on a full scale at once. It is instructive to remark, that the most important and best conceived schemes of ingenious men have been aided in their execution by the hints which they have received from the operations of Creative Wisdom in the works of nature. I have already remarked, that Mr Smeaton took his idea of extending the base of the Eddystone lighthouse, with the view of giving it greater power of resisting the violence of the waves, by reasoning on the form of the oak,—thus deriving a most valuable principle from vegetable nature; Mr Brunel obtained a hint equally

important in overcoming the peculiar difficulties of his undertaking, by borrowing from a remarkable contrivance of animated nature. The difficulty to be overcome was the guarding against the effects of the river in pressing on and pervading the strata through which he had to excavate his way. It had been found by the experience of the engineer formerly employed, that on certain strata the power of the tide was so great, that even the depth of thirty feet below the bottom of the river was no security against its influence. The first idea of the contrivance which appeared to Mr Brunel best calculated for making an excavation fit for his object under such an overwhelming head of water, was suggested by observing the operations of a worm called the tiredo, on a piece of the keel of a ship. The erosions made by this curious insect led him to form a plan by which, as his specification describes it, he might make " a circular opening of sufficient capacity at once." His plan was to form simultaneously several contiguous excavations by means of an apparatus which he has denominated the shield. It consists of twelve parallel frames lying close to each other, like so many volumes in a bookcase. Each frame being nearly twenty-two feet in height, is divided into three stories, the whole thus presenting thirty-six openings or cells. It is from these cells that the miners, operating by small quantities at a time, like so many tiredos, are able to erode the ground in front, while others at the back bring up a substantial brick structure, which, continuing the similarity, may be likened to the incrustation formed by the insect. For locomotive action, each frame is provided with two substantial legs, resting on equally substantial feet, or slippers, as they are technically called. These legs are furnished with articulations that fit the frames for a pacing movement, when it is necessary to advance, thus borrowing again from the mechanical contrivances of Creative Wisdom in the animal world.

It would lead us into too minute a detail, to state all

the difficulties which were to be encountered in this extraordinary work; but some idea of them, and of the ingenuity with which they have been overcome, may be conceived, when it is remembered, as already stated, that the influence of the tide on the strata at the bottom of the river, was found to extend to the depth of at least thirty feet; and when to this is added another fact, of which the engineer was experimentally made aware, that, at the depth of about eighty or eighty-five feet, there was a very dangerous stratum of quick-sand, which it was necessary to avoid. Between these two dangers, it was of essential importance to operate so as to keep as much as possible out of the influence of both. Of the two, the effect of the tide was most to be dreaded ; and, such was the nature of this difficulty, that it required all the resources of art to conquer it. In its natural state, the ground was found to be compact, even when it consisted of sand or gravel; but an excavation on so large a scale could not be made, without opening new vents for the exudation of water, which disturbed the strata, decomposing and softening some, kneading others into various degrees of consistency, and reducing others almost into a liquid state.

Notwithstanding these discouragements, however, the work was commenced in the month of March, 1825. The scheme was to carry two arch-ways, on the plan of a double arcade, below the river, of sufficient dimensions to form commodious carriage-ways; but, in order to accomplish this, it was found necessary to erect an immense mass of brick-work, thirty-eight feet in width, and twenty-two feet sixteen inches in height externally, of which the arch-ways in the centre were only to form a comparatively small proportion. The work proceeded with various success, and under constant danger, till the 18th May, 1827, during which interval, the ground was frequently in so loose a state, that the river deposits were found in the way of the excavation, and the influx of water was excessive. Once, indeed, a shovel and ham