Grace Darling by Eva Hope (people reading books .txt) 📕

home very often, but I will come when I can. At all events I am most glad to be here now; and I know mother will be delighted to hear all that I shall have to tell. She will want to know full particulars about every table and chair in Mary's Ann's new home."

"Then you must describe everything to her; and tell her we shall not be satisfied until she and Mr. Darling have both been to see for themselves."

The looked-for day came at last; and Grace's eyes sought the face of the young man to whom her sister had given her love, and spoke to him most eloquently. "Be kind to her—she is giving up everything for your sake," said those speaking eyes. Indeed, this is what should be so whispered as to sink into the heart of every bridegroom. A woman's happiness is so entirely in the care of her husband that, if he should betray the trust, there is nothing but sorrow for her. It is well when the man realises this, and prayerfully resolves that, God helping him, he will make, and not mar the joy of the heart that loves him.

This is what the young man meant to do who married the sister of Grace Darling; and there was every probability that they would be happy.

"If you love each other and love God, you need not fear for the future," said a wise old man once to a married couple. "If troubles come, bear them together as cheerfully as you can. If pleasures come, share them with each other, and so double them. In all things acknowledge God, and keep Him before you, and all will be well."

And she whom Grace left tearfully, and with many prayers for her happiness, doubtless found the truth of this in her own experience.

Mr. and Mrs. Darling were very glad to welcome their daughter home again, and she was quite as glad to return. She found, as she expected, that the mother had many questions to ask.

"Tell me some more about Mary Ann, Grace," said she many times; and as the days were dull and wet, and there was nothing else to do, these two had leisure to talk together, and Mrs. Darling was satisfied.

She felt as all mothers do, when their daughters have left the parental roof and chosen for themselves one who shall take the place of the dear old home friends, that little remained for her to do now but to pray. Happily for us all, however, there is a power in prayer that makes it worth more to the beloved ones than any gift. And those who pray bring down blessings upon the household, though far away from it in body. One is always near; and the Father of the human family is a prayer-answering God.

CHAPTER VIII. "PREVENTION BETTER THAN CURE."

"What might be done, if men were wise,
What glorious deeds, my suffering brother,
Would they unite
In love and right,
And cease their scorn of one another!

"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.

"Can I speak to the captain?"

"No; he is engaged."

"But it is something of importance that I wish to communicate."

"You must wait, then, for he will not listen to you at present."

Darling waited what seemed to him a very weary time before he could get the attention of the captain. At length the gentleman motioned to him to come forward.

"Well?"

Darling lifted his hat, and spoke to the captain most respectfully. "Will you excuse me, sir. You do not, perhaps, know the dangerous character of this coast as well as I do; but your magnificent vessel is in imminent peril."

"What do you mean?"

"There will not be water in another half-hour to float her. This is a rocky channel, and the ship will be wrecked, unless you get her out into the open sea while you have time."

The colour came into the captain's face, and an angry light into his eyes, and he immediately began pouring upon the lighthouse-keeper a volley of abuse.

"Be off, out of this ship at once, or I will have you thrown overboard! Why do you come here, telling such lies for the sake of a reward? I will report you to the authorities, my man, and make you wish you had minded your own business. Get away, I tell you, or it will be the worse for you."

For a moment, Darling was tempted to do as the captain told him; but the man's love of duty and conscientiousness was strong within him. He knew that the vessel, worth probably a hundred thousand pounds, would certainly go to destruction if left to pursue its course, and how could he, as a humane and honest man, allow that to occur because a captain had abused him?

He waited until the wrath of the captain had spent itself, and then, lifting his honest eyes to his face, he said—"Indeed, sir, you have mistaken your man; but I do not ask you to act on my word alone. If you examine the chart, or take soundings, I am sure you will be convinced. I hope you will be so kind as to do so, if only to prove to yourself that I am speaking the truth."

It was so reasonable, and the man seemed so much in earnest, that the captain could not well refuse to accede to this request, so he gave the order.

Darling, looking on, saw a change come over his face. He came to the lighthouse-keeper to apologise.

"I see that you were right," he said, "and beg your pardon for my rudeness. There is no time to lose; and as you are so well acquainted with the shore, will you pilot us into safe water!"

"Certainly; I will do so with pleasure."

"Of course, you will be rewarded for your trouble."

Darling was glad to help in this emergency, and he had the great joy of saving the ship and cargo. No man likes to see a valuable thing destroyed, and it may safely be said that the lighthouse-keeper experienced a most exquisite pleasure as he felt that he had been the means of preventing a terrible catastrophe. It is well, however, that 'virtue is its own reward,' for he had very little beside.

When his work was done, he went to the captain again. "She is all right now, sir, and there is no further danger, for the way is clear."

"Very good."

The captain then took from his pocket half-a-crown, and gave it as a reward to the lighthouse-man for his solicitude and trouble!

One of the rules for the regulation of lighthouse-work is that the keeper should record the particulars of all occurrences in a journal which is provided for the purpose. Mr. Darling entered a full account of the aid he had rendered to this vessel in his book; but it shows the kindly character of the man that he did not say a word about the abuse, or the meanness of the East Indiaman's captain.

William Darling was fitted to be the father of a heroine, for he longed to do good for its own sake, and not for selfish reward. He minded his own business well; but when he saw other people in danger, he could not help wishing and trying to save them. He knew that "Prevention is better than cure," and that to save a vessel from going on the rocks was a far nobler thing to do than to assist in getting her off again, and looking after the salvage. Nor was he to be deterred from his humane and kindly purpose by scorn and lack of appreciation in others. And this little incident is worthy of record, for it shows his character, and teaches lessons to us all—lessons which, in these times of eager ambition and selfishness, are very necessary. Let us go and do likewise. If we cannot save a ship we can perhaps save a soul, if only we are patient, persevering, and filled with a loving and Christian sympathy. It is just this desire for usefulness, this willingness to be servants or ministers, and to spend and be spent for others, that the world wants now. It can do without many great men, but it needs more than ever a multitude of kindly hearts, loving spirits, and willing hands. Who will help to swell the number?

"Howe'er it be, it seems to me
'Tis only noble to be good;
Kind hearts are more than coronets,
And simple faith than Norman blood."

CHAPTER IX. AUGUST PIC-NIC'S PLEASURES.

"There was not on that day a speck to stain
The azure heaven, the blessed sun alone,
In unapproachable divinity,
Careered,