Grace Darling | Page 6

than to covet, the dissipations, the shams and frivolities, the dress and fashion, of modern society. Another thing is morally certain, and it is, that Grace Darling had not read many novels. The effect of doing this is to make girls dream, rather than do. Their imagination takes flight into lofty regions, and they fancy themselves doing a vast number of heroic actions, but it is not such girls who would be found ready to act promptly in the emergency. Less of that which is superficial, and more of that which is natural and true, is wanted in these days to make noble women.
It is to be hoped that the consideration of this life will aid in the development of all sterling qualities, and that women will rise from its persual with a stronger determination than ever to become unselfish, useful, and devoted. Are there not lives yet to be saved? Are there no wrecks as awful as those which are caused by ships crashing among rocks, or stranding upon dangerous sands? These are days of civilisation and culture, of the multiplication of schools, and extension of churches. But no reflective observer can pass along the streets without seeing perilous places, which, though they never were marked on any wreck chart, have been the means of luring hundreds to destruction. There is work enough for all willing hands, and the women of Great Britain can do no unimportant part of it. Only let them be true to themselves, and to the higher instincts which God has planted within them. Only let them be faithful to duty, and prompt to perform any good task that lies before them, whether it be small or great, and they will be worthy to take their places by the side of the Farne Isles Heroine; and of them also the Judge will say, "They have done what they could."
CHAPTER II.
ANCIENT NORTHUMBRIA.
"Honour be with the dead! The people kneel Under the helms of antique chivalry, And in the crimson gloom from banners thrown, And 'midst the forms in pale, proud slumber carved Of warriors on their tombs. The people kneel Where mail-clad chiefs have knelt--where jewelled crowns On the flushed brows of conquerors have been set-- Where the high anthems of old victories Have made the dust give echoes. Hence, vain thoughts! Memories of power and pride, which long ago, Like dim processions of a dream, have sunk In twilight depths away. Return, my soul! The Cross recalls thee!"--Mrs. Hemans.
Every part of our little island home has its history. The land is small, but the changes among the inhabitants, and the achievements of its heroes, have redeemed it from triviality, and made it among nations great and important. The deeds Englishmen have done, the afflictions they have suffered, the victories they have won, and the results that they have brought about, conspire to make every county famous for something. In one, the ashes of martyrs have consecrated the ground. In another, the introduction of some special art or industry has been its elevation. Another was the birthplace of some great man, whom the world delighted to honour. Yet another was the scene of some great battle, where the bones of the vanquished whitened in the sun. And yet another is historic, because upon its soil the lovers of freedom have stood, firm as English oaks, and contended, not for their own rights only, but also for those of their sons and daughters. But few parts of the land have such thrilling stories to tell as that of Northumbria. Border ballads innumerable have been written, and there are old stones, dark rocks, and picturesque glens, that are ever singing their songs of the olden and far-away days, and singing them so that no pen can reproduce them. If they could but speak a language that we could understand, what crowds of eager students would gather about them, what hosts of world-weary people would rest and listen! How many romantic maidens and resolute youths would drink inspiration from them! But we know a little of what was sinned and suffered, commenced and completed there, in the North of our land, and though it is not a hundredth part of what might be told, it is yet enough to fill us with thoughts of God's care and goodness, and to stir us up to noble deeds.
No one can read and reflect on the history of any county without seeing that places are almost entirely made famous by the people who have lived upon them, and Northumberland has been enriched by some of the best blood that ever flowed through mortal veins. That part with which we have most to do is the group of islands lying off its coast, but Lindisfarne and the Farne Islands are interesting, not so