t, with regard to the latter, I talked to him only with mine
eyes. I also went afloat for a short time with the fishermen of the
North Sea, in order to be able to do justice to _The Young Trawler_.
To arrive still closer at the truth, and to avoid errors, I have always
endeavoured to submit my proof-sheets, when possible, to experts and men
who knew the subject well. Thus, Captain Shaw, late Chief of the London
Fire Brigade, kindly read the proofs of _Fighting the Flames_, and
prevented my getting off the rails in matters of detail, and Sir Arthur
Blackwood, financial secretary to the General Post Office, obligingly
did me the same favour in regard to _Post Haste_.
In conclusion, there are some things that I shrink from flaunting in the
eyes of the public. Personal religion is one of these. Nevertheless,
there are a few words which I feel constrained to write before closing
this chapter.
During all the six years that I spent in Rupert's Land I was "without
God." He was around me and within me, guarding me, bestowing upon me
the physical and mental health by which alone I could fully enjoy a life
in the wilderness, and furnishing me with much of the material that was
to serve as my stock-in-trade during my subsequent career; yet--I
confess it with shame--I did not recognise or think of, or care for,
Him. It was not until after I had returned home that He opened my eyes
to see myself a lost soul, and Jesus Christ--"God with us"--an
all-sufficient Redeemer, able and willing to save me from sin, as He is
to save all sinners--even the chief.
More than this I will not say. Less I could not say, without being
unfaithful to my Creator.
CHAPTER TWO.
LIFE IN THE BELL ROCK LIGHTHOUSE.
One of my most interesting experiences in hunting up materials for books
was at the Bell Rock Lighthouse; interesting because of the novelty of
the situation, the pleasant intercourse with the keepers, and the
grandeur of the subjects brought under my observation.
The lighthouses of this kingdom present, in their construction, a
remarkable evidence of the capacity of man to overcome almost
insurmountable difficulties, and his marvellous power of adapting means
to ends. They also stand forth as a grand army of sentinels, who, with
unobtrusive regularity, open their brilliant eyes on the great deep,
night after night--from year to year--from age to age, and gaze--
Argus-like--all around our shores, to guard our shipping fro
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