Part 4 (1/2)

Her father was William Darling; a most suitable man for his post as keeper of the lighthouse, being vigilant, steady, attentive, and careful, not only in the special duties to which he was appointed, but also in training a numerous family with diligence and discretion.

So little Grace was not a lonely child in a quiet home; but one of a merry, active, happy troupe of northern children; sometimes playing in the clean, white-washed rooms and staircases of the lighthouse, or at other times clambering about the rough rocks, and watching the eddying waters all around.

Still the life of the young girl was not all play, with the dear brothers and sisters whom she loved.

Lessons had to be learned, and they were well learned too; copies had to be written, and in these little Grace soon excelled, for she ”wrote a beautiful hand.”

The kind, homely parents, too, taught her to think, and as she read nicely, and was bright and quick in acquiring the information within her rather limited grasp, she became very intelligent.

A fair share of household duties also fell to her lot, and these were discharged in a quiet, orderly, and un.o.btrusive way.

Though very neat in her dress, she was never smart; the only trace of feminine vanity was this:--After her brave conduct in the s.h.i.+pwreck of the ”Forfars.h.i.+re,” the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Northumberland sent for Grace Darling to Alnwick Castle, and presented her with a gold watch, which she always wore when visitors came to the lighthouse; taking care that the watch-seal should be slightly conspicuous on the plain, simple striped cotton gown!

Thus the childhood and girlhood pa.s.sed gently on in almost unvarying home love, duty, and quiet happiness, until the 5th of September, 1838, Grace being then in her twenty-third year.

On that night an awful storm rose in tempestuous fury and swept up to the Farne Islands, raging and swelling around, and tossing the black billows into surging foam amongst the cliffy little isles that chafed it into such majestic madness. A steamer had left Hull a day or two before, and as her boilers were not in good repair, she was soon rendered helpless in the wide ocean, and presently drifted on towards the perilous Longstone Lighthouse. She struck on one of the dreaded islands, and the cries of the few survivors who could cling to that portion of the wreck which was forcibly driven between the rocks, reached the ears of Grace Darling, who immediately awakened her father. Utter darkness prevented them from seeing where the wreck lay, and both father and daughter watched till the dawn. An attempt to rescue the moving forms which they could faintly discern in the misty daylight was almost hopeless, but for all that it was made, and the two stepped without hesitation into the frail, small boat, which they then rowed towards the wreck. Here the difficulty increased, as the tempestuous sea threatened to dash the boat and its occupants on the rocks where the ”Forfars.h.i.+re”

was stranded. But the father succeeded in landing, Grace pus.h.i.+ng off with the boat to avoid its being engulphed, and with her oars balancing it amongst the rolling billows until the nine survivors and her father were safely with her in the tiny craft. Then both rowing back to the lighthouse, they carefully nursed, cheered, and tended those rescued men, Grace especially devoting herself to them with unremitting care.

This event gave Grace Darling the notoriety which her n.o.ble conduct so well merited.

It was on the 20th of October, 1842, when the wild equinoctial gales had not long swept over the surrounding seas, that she died gently in the midst of her own loving family circle, at the early age of twenty-seven.

It is easy to imagine the grat.i.tude and joy of the nine peris.h.i.+ng men who were rescued from an awful death!

May you, dear young readers, value far more highly that eternal salvation from darker death than the one which threatened them, that salvation of those who trust themselves fully to the loving Saviour's power and willingness to save! To save _from_ both the guilt of past sin, and the power of present sin of heart and life, through the influence of the Holy Spirit of G.o.d, and to save _for_ the calm, unshaken rest of a bright Home of Light, when the last wave of this stormy sea of life is left outside, and exchanged for the unbroken beauty of heaven's crystal ”sea of gla.s.s!”

[Ill.u.s.tration: ST. CLEMENT'S CHURCH, NORWICH.]

XI.

MRS. FRY.

Elizabeth Fry, subsequently so well known as the kind visitor and instructress of the females in Newgate, was born on the 21st of May, 1780, in St. Clement's parish in the old city of Norwich.

Her father's name was John Gurney; her mother, whose maiden name was Bell, was a lineal descendant of Robert Barclay, the Apologist of the Quakers.

The Gurneys of Norwich trace their family back to the days of William Rufus, if not to the times of William the Conqueror.

Elizabeth was one of twelve children, and the third daughter in this large family of Quakers.

When she was four years old, her parents removed from the city to the beautiful estate of Earlham, where her childhood pa.s.sed away in much worldliness and gaiety, for the Quakers of this period were extremely lax in carrying out their peculiarities.

Earlham Hall is scarcely two miles from Norwich, and is a stately mansion surrounded by a lovely park, the river Wensum adding its charms to the scenery by its graceful windings in the vicinity. It was here, surrounded by luxury, beauty, and profusion, that the child played; and the old Hall was her bright, glad home.

Her mother seems to have been very fond of Elizabeth, and in writing about her, remarks:--”My dear little Betsey never offends, and is, in every sense of the word, truly engaging.”