ghts that the mariner, going or returning, may be
warned of the hindrances to progress, and the "terror by night," which
lie hidden under the pitiless, deceitful waters.

No one can consider the subject of lighthouses without thinking also of
lighthouse-homes and those who inhabit them. It is a remarkable fact
that there is no position so dreary or dangerous, but some one can be
found to fill it. And so brave are certain individuals amongst us,
that it may almost be said they covet situations where courage,
endurance, and self-denial, are essential. It is necessary, indeed,
that lighthouse keepers should be in many respects superior men; and he
who thinks that "any one will do to light a lamp," is mistaken. Men
who occupy such a high position must be well tested, faithful men. Do
they not hold in their hands the lives of emigrants seeking foreign
shores for work--good successful traders, bringing home their savings
to make widowed mothers, or aged and infirm fathers happy--sailor lads,
for whose return fair English maidens pray with love's longing, and
little children, who are to grow up into statesmen, philanthropists,
and deliverers? Would it do for light-house-keepers to be men who
trembled at the storm, and turned pale when their tower shook, and
forgot to light the lamp, when the lightning's forked tongue was
darting hither and thither? May a light-house-keeper put his own life
and health first, and his duty next? Must he allow anxiety for a sick
child, or sorrow for a dying wife, to withdraw him for one evening from
his work? No. All that is required of a faithful soldier is required,
in even a greater degree, in the keeper of a lighthouse. He has
therefore to receive a course of instruction, and to be subjected to
strict discipline. He has to pass a medical examination, and produce
unexceptionable testimonials with regard to his moral character. In a
word, he must be in all respects a most trustworthy man, or he will not
do for a lighthouse-keeper.

The first and chief rule for the guidance of the man to whom is
allotted the post of honour and danger is this--"_You are to light the
lamps every evening at sunsetting, and keep them constantly burning
bright and clear till sunrising_." Nothing--no personal matter of
sickness or sorrow, must prevent his doing this. While life is in him,
and his senses continue, this injunction is to be ringing in his
memory, and guiding his actions. There is plenty o