Grace Darling Part 1

Grace Darling.

by Eva Hope.

CHAPTER I.

WOMAN'S WORK.

"The rights of woman, what are they?

The right to labour and to pray; The right to succour in distress; The right, when others curse; to bless; The right to lead the soul to G.o.d, Along the path the Saviour trod."

What is woman's work? This is one of the vexed questions of to-day, and it is one which, doubtless, sometimes troubled the unwilling brains of our forefathers, though to a less extent. They settled it more rapidly and satisfactorily than we are able to do, for, "in the long ago," women were less ambitious than they are now. In our times, they have so forced themselves to the front, that a number of questions have necessarily to be considered; and what woman ought to do, what she can do, and what she must do, are subjects which afford interesting and useful topics of conversation in all circles. As might have been expected, the opinions of even wise men vary with regard to this matter. "A woman is good as a house-wife, and a mother," say some.

"But as there are not homes enough for them all, something else must be thought of," say others. "A woman has neither strength enough, nor brains enough, for most occupations," say her detractors. "A woman is capable of doing almost anything a man can do, especially those things which are the most honourable and remunerative," say the most enthusiastic advocates of woman's rights. There are some, indeed, who would gladly aid her to mount the very highest pinnacles of fame and social distinction. There are others who are jealous if she succeed in getting her foot, even upon the lowest step of the ladder, and who would be glad, like the Friend of Mrs. Stowe, to give the intruder a push, with the words, "Thou art not wanted here."

In the midst of this clamour of inharmonious voices, it is a little amusing to see how quietly and effectively some women settle the matter for themselves. If, indeed, they are among the best of their s.e.x, they are surely qualified to judge, not only of their own ability, but also as to that which is proper. And they have no difficulty in finding this reply to the puzzling question--A WOMAN'S WORK IS THAT WHICH SHE SEES NEEDS DOING. It is her duty to put her hand to any occupation that is waiting for workers. If a fire is raging, and she have strength to bring a bucket of water, and throw over it, is she guilty of an unwomanly action if she obey the impulse of her heart, and work diligently by the side of men whose work it is? If she see "another woman's bairnie" in trouble, is she not right to rush into the streets and s.n.a.t.c.h him from the danger which threatens him, as the horses come tearing by, and the huge and laden vehicles shake the houses? And is she less a woman, if, seeing these children grown up to manhood, she beholds them exposed to greater dangers than their childhood ever knew, and hastens to their rescue with brave and inspiring words?

To draw the line which separates the right and wrong of other people's actions, is always a difficult, if not an impossible thing, and yet it is what almost everybody attempts. It is right, say some, for a woman to instruct her own family in Biblical knowledge, and she may even invite the children of her neighbour to be present while she does so.

But if the little social gathering should become a congregation, so that, instead of meeting in the lady's own room, it should be necessary to borrow a mission-hall or a chapel, then even her friends shake their heads, and bring the blush to her face by suggesting that she is doing an unwomanly thing. It is right and proper that she should know so much of medicine as to be able successfully to doctor her own children.

Nor is she all that she ought to be unless she can tell, in an emergency, what is best for her husband, and many of the poor who may seek her advice. But if the joy of healing prove a fascination and a snare to her, and in order that she may not be a burden to father or brother, or to enable her to provide for orphan children left to her care, she endeavours to enter the medical profession, and receive money for her services, what a terrible hue-and-cry is raised against her.

The Lord Jesus Christ once uttered a very high eulogium upon a woman, against whom words of bitter blame and indignation were spoken. There was a supper at the house of Simon, the Leper, and to him was given the honour of entertaining a Guest who was not only royal, but divine.

There were also present three members of a family who owed the Saviour life-long thanks for benefits received. One of them, a woman, whose name was Mary, felt so burdened that she could not let so good an opportunity pa.s.s without in some way expressing her emotions. She therefore brought a very expensive gift, an alabaster box of precious ointment, and, breaking the box, she poured the ointment on the head and feet of Jesus, thus performing a graceful act of womanly ministration. It was uncommon in some respects, and this of itself was sufficient to draw down upon her the scathing rebuke of the unsympathetic on-lookers. "Why was this waste of the ointment made?

It might have been sold for more than three hundred pence, and have been given to the poor. And they murmured against her." But He, who is always woman's best friend, took Mary's part against her accusers.

"Let her alone; why trouble ye her? She hath wrought a good work on Me, for ye have the poor with you always; and whensoever ye will, ye may do them good, but Me ye have not always. SHE HATH DONE WHAT SHE COULD."

In these words, we think we have an answer to the question, What is woman's work? Is it not this?--SHE MAY DO WHAT SHE CAN. She is not, of course, to go abroad seeking work, while work is ready to her hand.

She is not to neglect homely duties, for those which call her away from friends and kindred who need her. She is not to stretch out her hands beseechingly for higher service, if they are already full of lowly tasks not yet accomplished. But if she have leisure, strength, and ability--if there are no G.o.d-given ties that ought to hinder her--if she sees fields white ready to harvest, and knows that the labourers are all too few--then, in Christ's name, let her do with her might whatsoever her hands find to do.

It is surely this which the voice of GRACE DARLING, the heroine whom the hearts of men and women alike agree to love and revere, is saying to us still, and has said ever since her brave deeds thrilled the world. She gave her thoughts and powers, with conscientious diligence and perseverance, to the common-place duties of her lot, but she was none the less ready, when the occasion came, to go forth over the stormy waters to do a most uncommon deed of daring. Usually, she was happy and content in being a blessing to her own family; but she was not afraid to forget herself, nor unable to rise above the natural timidity of her s.e.x, when the n.o.blest and strongest pa.s.sions of her heart were aroused on behalf of men, women, and children, who were in danger of a watery grave.

There are other great women, her sisters, of each of whom it may also be said, "She hath done what she could." Most of these have been helped by circ.u.mstances to do their brave deeds so silently that the world does not even hear their names. But to a few it happens that duty calls them to their work in the face of the crowd, and this may be providentially ordered that those who look on may be thus taught the hopeful and inspiring lessons of a good woman's life.

Ill.u.s.trations of women whose work has been heroic, are not wanting.

It is not very long ago since the world rang with the name of FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. She was an educated and accomplished young lady, the daughter of a wealthy man, who might have been content to live the quiet life of luxury to which she was born. But G.o.d had given to her a tender heart, which would not permit her to look on suffering without longing to alleviate it; and when she was twenty-one years old, she began to take an interest in the condition of hospitals. After a time she went into the Protestant Deaconesses Inst.i.tution at Kaiserswerth, that she might be trained as a nurse. At the end of ten years of preparation, she entered upon her life-work. War was declared with Russia; and when the battle of the Alma had been fought, the wounded crowded the hospitals. But the condition of these places was so terrible, the men died of disease so rapidly, that the death-rate was greater than if they had fallen in fight. In this appalling crisis, Miss Nightingale offered her services. These were thankfully accepted; and a week afterward, the lady and her nurses left England for Scutari.

What she did there has since become matter for history. On one occasion, she was on her feet for twenty hours at a stretch, until all the poor fellows who had been brought in were comfortably accommodated.

None can tell how many lives she was the means of saving.

"Neglected, dying in despair, They lay till woman came To soothe them with her gentle care, And feed life's flickering flame.

"When wounded sore on fever's rack, Or cast away as slain, she called their fluttering spirits back, And gave them strength again.

"'Twas grief to miss the pa.s.sing face That suffering could dispel; But joy to turn and kiss the place On which her shadow fell."

Nor was her work confined to nursing only. Her example has done very much; and her literary productions have given light and teaching to those who wished to follow it. Who does not know the good that her "Notes on Hospitals" has done? And her little book, "Notes on Nursing," is invaluable to all who are called upon to spend an hour in the sick room. Florence Nightingale has answered the question, What is woman's work? by doing what she could.

She was one example, and ELIZABETH FRY was another. Pa.s.sing her childhood in the quiet home of her father, she was yet, as a child, laying the foundation of her future excellent career. When only eighteen years of age, she gained her father's consent to her establis.h.i.+ng in his house a school, to which about eighty poor children came, and where they were taught good lessons, which were the seeds of useful fruit in after years. At twenty years of age, she married Joseph Fry, Esq., of Upton, Ess.e.x. He was then engaged in business in London. She had eight children, and must have had her hands almost full of domestic cares and duties. But she had eyes for the troubles and needs of the inhabitants who lived and loved, sinned and suffered outside of the sheltered resting-places in her own home, and she became aware of the pitiable condition of the female prisoners in Newgate, and resolved to visit them. It was considered to be a very dangerous experiment; but her woman's heart was strong, for she had faith in G.o.d, and in the power of human love; and otherwise unprotected, she went alone into that part of the prison, where a hundred and fifty of the worst of her own s.e.x were confined. The women were surprised into attention and respect by her dignity and gentleness of manner. She read to them some portion of "the old old story," and spoke to them with such earnest love, that their hearts were melted within them.

Many of them heard, for the first time, of the divine compa.s.sion of Him who came to seek and to save that which was lost; and as they listened, tears stole into eyes that were strangely unused to shed them; and from some of the poor wanderers a cry went up to the merciful Father, and was the first prayer in the sinful, sorrowful life. In 1816, she became a systematic visitor of the prison. About that time, the "Society for the Improvement of Prison Discipline" was inst.i.tuted, and she worked in connection with it. She established a school inside of the prison walls--found work for the idle hands of the women, and succeeded in forming a Committee of Ladies who were willing to help in the reformation of the female prisoners. It soon became evident that the labour was not in vain. A marked difference in the habits of the women was apparent. Instead of the riot and filth which were the accompaniments of idleness, order, neatness, and decency, were maintained. Nor did she rest when Newgate had shown some improvement.

Her thoughts were turned to the condition of the poor wretches who had been sentenced to transportation. The foreign prisons were in even a worse condition than our own, and she took several Continental journeys in order to gain knowledge, and enlist the sympathy and help of Christian people of all nations for the prisoners.

But although this work was that with regard to which she was most deeply solicitous, it was not the only one which occupied her thoughts.

The Abolition of Slavery was a task which was laid upon her heart, and she rendered the cause good service. She spent much time and money also in the distribution of Bibles and religious tracts. She provided the s.h.i.+ps of the Royal Navy, and those of the Coast Guard, with religious and instructive literature, having obtained permission from Government to do so. And she did not limit her good deeds to such things as these, which necessarily were well known. She worked silently, too; and many an act of mercy gladly rendered to the poor and dest.i.tute, the sick and helpless, had no witness but the G.o.d who seeth in secret, and rewardeth openly.

This good friend added to her other engagements that of the preacher; and never, perhaps, has a woman's voice spoken more effectively than did the voice of this worthy woman, who preached the gospel both by lips and life, not only in her own, but also in Continental cities. It was, indeed, a great loss to this world, where n.o.ble men and women are so much wanted, when Elizabeth Fry died. But He who watches all life and action, has said, "He that is faithful in that which is least, is faithful also in much," and He calls the steadfast servant to higher service.

In the year 1845, she died at Ramsgate, in the sixty-fifth year of her age. A nation mourned for her, and as the most fitting testimony to the esteem in which she was held, a building was erected, which was called the "Elizabeth Fry Refuge," and which was to supply home and relief to discharged female prisoners. Was Elizabeth Fry an unwomanly woman? Certainly not. But she did exceptional work, because she saw that it needed doing; and G.o.d blessed and prospered her in it. Of her also it may surely be said, "She hath done what she could."

Even in our own day, there are mult.i.tudes of good women who are slipping a little out of the beaten track. Are not the names of Miss Faithful, Miss Leigh, Miss Macpherson, Miss Marsh, and Miss Rye, "familiar in our mouths as household words." Are there not speakers and preachers, scientific women and teachers, who have been thoroughly successful in the work they have undertaken, though it has not been that which has usually fallen to the lot of women?

At the time of writing these words, the largest congregation in London is mourning the loss of a woman who, Sunday by Sunday, gathered together eight hundred members of a Young Woman's Bible Cla.s.s, to listen while she spoke to them of things pertaining to their present and eternal welfare. And who is there but would earnestly wish such women G.o.d-speed? Their work may be a little different from some of that of their sisters, but it is good work all the same. And as such it ought to be done. Why should not the labourers be allowed to proceed with their tasks without opposition and hindrance from those who look on? It cannot be denied that much of this work never would be performed if the women did not do it. Are they not right to step into vacant places, and stretch out their hands to help, when help is needed? Whether they are right or not, they certainly do not escape censure. People are ready enough to applaud a really heroic action, but if the deed be as good in itself, yet have no romance about it, the tongues of the critics are apt to say sharp things. Many women, simply because they are not courageous enough to brave the adverse opinions of those by whom they are surrounded, lose golden opportunities of distinguis.h.i.+ng themselves. They are afraid to be singular. But this fear is no honour to the s.e.x. A woman should be so far free and independent as to do that which she feels to be right, no matter though the right seem to call her to heights which she had not occupied before. And if, in her ordinary avocations, she be allowed liberty of thought and action, there is the greater probability that, when the occasion comes which demands from her strength of nerve and firm endurance, she will not be found wanting. It does not matter very much whether or not other people are satisfied with a woman's deeds, though she cannot help wis.h.i.+ng to please those whom she loves. But what does matter is, that she should gain the high praise of Him who sees not as man sees, and who will say even to those who imagine themselves to be in some sense failures, "She hath done what she could."

To study the life of any good woman, is to know that she is not necessarily unable to do many things well. It used to be thought that it was a pity to educate a woman; for, if she understood two or three languages, it was not likely that she would also know how to darn stockings. And nothing can make men willing to pardon a woman's domestic deficiencies. Have not poets sung of them as nurses, wives, mothers, and cooks! But no poet cares to write of them as physicians, reasoners, lecturers, or preachers. Lyttelton has written--

"Seek to be good, but aim not to be great: A woman's n.o.blest station is retreat; Her fairest virtues fly from public sight, Domestic worth, that shuns too strong a light."

Montgomery has said--

"Here woman reigns: the mother, daughter, wife, Strew with fresh flowers the narrow way of life.

To the clear heaven of her delightful eye An angel-guard of loves and graces lie; Around her knees domestic duties meet, And fireside pleasures gambol at her feet.

Where shall this land, this spot on earth be found?

Art thou a man?--a patriot! Look around; Oh, thou shall find, howe'er thy footsteps roam, This land _thy_ country, and this spot _thy_ home."

Shakespeare, too, has described her mission--

"I am ashamed that women are so simple, To offer war where they should kneel for peace, Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway, When they are bound to serve, love, and obey; Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth, Unapt to toil and trouble in the world; But that our soft conditions, and our hearts, Should well agree with our external parts?"

It should be borne in mind, however, that a really clever and sensible woman is able to do many things excellently. Was Mrs. Fry less a good wife and able mother, because she visited prisons, and saved many of her s.e.x from desolation and death? She had eight children, and no one doubts that each one had every care that a devoted mother could bestow upon him. Was Grace Darling less loving and obedient as a daughter, because she was so bold as not to be afraid to face death? Certainly not. And the women of to-day will not fill their humble positions less satisfactorily if they thankfully take every opportunity of training themselves, both physically and mentally, for whatever good work may come in their way. Does not the name of Grace Darling suggest to many parents, a contrast between her life and that of their own daughters?

And would not many a man be glad to know that the woman who is to sit by his side, and help or hinder him through life, had similar qualifications for her position? In a word, can Grace Darling's be trained? Is there any way of making "the girl of the period" into a vigorously healthy, sensible, devoted, self-forgetful woman? Is it impossible, out of the material which is to be found in any of our schools and seminaries, to form characters of sterling worth and practical usefulness?

The study of the life of the heroine of the Farne Isles will provide the answer to this question. It will be seen, at all events, that such women are not the produce of ballrooms, where the air is poisoned by gases, and where women spend nights in scenes of excitement and gaiety.

Contrasts cannot be more striking than this between late hours, crowded rooms, paints, scents, and flirtation, and the free fresh air, better than all the champagne in the world, which circulated over and through the Farne Isles. If the girls of the future are to be free from sickly sentimentalism--if they are to have warm and tender hearts, that are ever ready to respond to that which is n.o.ble, and sympathise with that which is sorrowful--then they should get at least a good part of their education out of doors, among the mountains and rocks, and by the ever-changing sea. There was nothing artificial about the life of Grace Darling. It was free, natural, and real. And if the women of the next generation are to be strong and healthy in mind and body, they should be taught to despise, rather than to covet, the dissipations, the shams and frivolities, the dress and fas.h.i.+on, 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 n.o.ble 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 s.h.i.+ps cras.h.i.+ng 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 pa.s.s 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 G.o.d 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.