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

L
was wild night in March, during which. in .
fisherman hut ashore, sat young girl at her
spinning wheel and looked out on the dark
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 fifty
years Is long time in the life of a human
nelng nifty years IS long time to 20 on in
such course as the woman did of whom 7
am speaking. She watched her father body.
according to the custom of her people, till he
was lald IN the grave, Then she Law down on
her BED and slept, and by night got up and set
candle in her easement, as g beacon to the
fishermen and a guide. She sat by the candle
all night, and trimmed it. and spun; then
when the day dawned she went TO bed and
slept in 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 IRON that time to this, for fifty wears
through youth, maturity, and old age. She
turned night into day, and in the snow stormo
OF Winter, through driving mists, decent;ve
moonlight, and solemn darkness, that North
ern harOor has never once been without the
light Of her candle.
How many lives she saved by this candle,
or how many meals she won for the starving
families OF the bOatmen, it is impossible to
say; how many dark night the fishermen
depending on it, went fearlesslv forth. cannot
now be told. There it stood, regular as a light
mouse, and steady as constant care could
make It, Always brighter when daylight
waned, they had only to keep it constantly in
view and they were safe; there was but one
- ~ -
rock. However far they might have stretched
out to sea, they had only to bear down straight
tor that lighted window, and they were sure
Of a safe entrance into the harbor,
Fifty years Of life and labor-ffty wears of
sleeping in the sunshine-tifty years of watch.
ing and selfdenal, and all to feed the fame
and trim the wick Of that one candle! 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 oip' 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
know better than that. Do they thank her?
No. Perhaps they feel that thanks of theirs
would be inadequate to express their obliga!
lions, 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
times their wives steal into her cottage, now
she is getting old, and spin a hank or two of
thread for her while she slumbers and thew
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-scarcely 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, l 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 fgurel
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-
struction few, like the woman, '1et 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 Sor 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 a.
little longer, since this record Of her charity is
true.-JenB HgelOw.