"Oppression's heart might be imbued
With kindling drops of loving kindness,
And knowledge pour,
From shore to shore,
Light on the eyes of mental blindness.
"All slavery, warfare, lies and wrongs,
All vice and crime, might die together;
And wine and corn
To each man born
Be free, as warmth in summer weather."—C. Mackay.
To attend to one's own business, and leave other people's alone, is a maxim that should perhaps generally be obeyed; but not always. It happens sometimes that, wrapping the cloak of selfishness about us, we not only lose an opportunity of doing good, and so forfeit our right to the joy that such an action always brings, but we are also the indirect means of bringing sorrow upon our fellow creatures. Let not that man who sees another going to destruction, either through ignorance, or weakly yielding to temptation, say calmly—"It is no business of mine to interfere." It is everybody's business to care for his brother, and by all possible means help him. It is true that he who thus acts will often find that the world is against him. He will meet with scorn and abuse where he expected thanks; and even those who trust him most may not understand him, or approve of his actions. But his duty is, nevertheless, plain—he is to be a helper of mankind. So at least thought the lighthouse-keeper, one day when his philanthropy was put to the test.
Grace was looking from the window of their sitting-room across the sea, when she saw a sight that interested her. All sorts of vessels came within sight of the Farne Islands; but it was very seldom indeed that she saw such a one as that on which her eyes delighted to gaze on this occasion. She thought, indeed, that she had never seen so stately a ship sailing on the waters, with sails all spread, and graceful motion, and a look of wealth about every part of her.
"Father, see!" she cried. "Is not this East Indiaman a magnificent ship? She sails along like a swan."
Mr. Darling looked, but just for a moment.
"Oh, what can they be thinking about!" he cried, in great consternation. "That splendid vessel, Grace, is on the point of destruction. In an hour's time there will not be water in the channel to float her, and she will be stranded on the rocks."
He was right. Unless something could be done, and that quickly, the ship was doomed; for she lay in a narrow channel which passes between the islands, and which is covered with rocks, and has no great depth of water.
Mr. Darling did not lose a moment, but hurried down to the beach, sprang into his boat, and was soon sailing over the sea on his errand of mercy. As he rowed towards the ship, he could not but admire her noble build and stately bearing. "She is riding in proud security upon the waves," he said to himself, "but, in a few minutes, she might be a wreck, lying helplessly among the flinty rocks."
There was no sign of these rocks now, however, for they were covered by the water; and when he neared the ship, it was plain to see that all the crew were comfortable and happy, believing that things were right. As soon as the lighthouse-keeper was observed, a rope was thrown to him, with which he secured his boat, and then sprang upon deck.