Baltimore daily commercial. [volume] (Baltimore, Md.) 1865-1867, 1866-04-11
a Story ogE0Do A.

The long time ago of which | mean to tell
was wild night in March, during which. in y
fisherman hut ashore, sat young pirI at ber
spinning wheel and looked out on the darI-
driving clouds, and listened, trembling. to the
winds and theseas. The morning light dawned
at last. One boat that should have been
riding on the troubled waves was missing
her fathers boat! and half mile from The
cottage her fathers body was washed upon
the shore
This happened fifty years ago, and fiftv
years Is long time in the life of a human
being; fifty years is a long time to 90 on in
such a course as the woman did of whom 7
am speaking. She watched her fathers body.
according to the custom of her people, till he
was laid IN the grave. Then she lay down on
her bed and slept, and by night got up and set
a candle IN her easement, as q beacon to the
fishermen and guide. She sat by the candle
ell night, and trimmed it, and spun; then
when the day dawned she went to bed and
slept III the sunshine So many hanks as she
spun before for her daily bread, she spun
still, and one over, to buy her nightly candle.
and from that time to this, for fifty wears
through youth, maturity, and old age. she
turned night into day, and in the snow storme
OF Winter, through driving mists, decentive
moonlight, and solemn darkness, that North
ern harbor has never once been without the
hight OF her candle
How many lives she saved by this candle,
or now many meals she won for the starving
families of the boatmen, it is impossible t0
Sayi how many dark night the fishermen,
depending on 1t, went fearlessy forth cannot
now be told. There it stood, regular as a light
house, and steady as constant care could
make 1t. Always brighter when daylight
waned, they had only to keep it constantly in
view and they were safe; there was but one
thing that could intercept it, and that was the
rock. However far they might have stretched
out to sea, they had only to bear down straight
for that lighted window, and they were sure
OF n safe entrance into the harbor,
Fifty years Of life and labor-fftv wears of
sleeping IN the sunshlne-ffty years of watch
ing and selfdenial, and all to feed the flame
and trim the wick OF that one candleI But if
we look upon the recorded lives of great men
and just men and wise men, few of them can
show fifty years of worthier, certainly not
OF more successful labor. Little, indeed, of
the midnight oil> consumed during the last
half century so worthily deserved trimming.
Happy woman-and but for the dreaded rock
her great charity might never have been called
into exercise.
But what do the boatmen and the boatmen's
wives think Of this? Do they pay the woman?
No, they are very poor but poor or rich thew
z
No. Perhaps they feel that thanks of theirs
would be inadequate to express their obliga3
tons, or, perhaps long years have made the
lighted easement so familiar that it is looked
upon as matter of course. Sometimes the
fishermen lay fish on her Threshold and set a
child to watch it for her till she wakes: some-
tunes their wives steal into her cottage, now
she is getting old, and spin hank or two of
thread for her while she slumbers; and they
teach their children to pass her hut quietly,
and not to sing and shout before her door,
lest they should disturb her. That is all.
Their thanks are not looked for-scarcelys SUP
posed to be due. Their grateful deeds are
more than she expects and much as she desires
How often in the far distance of my English
home, have awoke in a wild Winter hight.
and while the wind and storm were arising,
have thought Of that northern bay, with the
waves dashing against the rock, and have
pictured to myself the easement, and the
candle nursed by that bending, aged fgureI
How delighted to know that through her I'M
firing charity the rock has long since lost more
than half its terror, and to consider that curse
though 1t may be to all besides, it has most
surely proved a blessing to her.
You, too, may perhaps think with advantage
on the character of this woman, and contrast
it with the mission of the rock There are
many degrees between them. Few, like the
rock, stand up wholly to work ruin and de-
structlon; few, like the woman, 'let their
light shine; SO brightly for good. But to one
Of the many degrees between them we must
all most certainly belong-we all lean towards
the woman or the rock. On such characters
you do well to speculate with me, for you have
not been cheated into sympathy with ideal
shipwreck cor imaginary kindness. There is
many rock elsewhere as perilous as the one
| have told you of-perhaps there are many
such women but for this one, whose story is
before you, pray that her candle may burn
little longer, since this record Of her charity is
true.-Jean IngelolC.