Very beautiful are the following lines, which appeared in the "Newcastle Chronicle," and were written by Miss Eleanor Louise Montague:—
"Sweet spirit of the merciful,
That smoothed the watery way!
From the true throb of heart to heart
Thou wilt not turn away;
Oh! softly, wilt thou lend thine ear,
When 'mid the tempest's war,
The feeble voice of woman's praise
Shall greet thee from afar.
"I see thee in thy rock-built home,
Swept by the dashing seas,
I hear thy voice as on that night
It stilled the rushing breeze.
When stirred by heavenly visions,
Thou didst burst the bonds of sleep,
To take thy place in peril's path—
The angel of the deep!
"Oh, where was then the tender form
That quailed to every blast!
Like the bread-gift to the famished,
'Upon the waters cast!'
True to thy woman's nature still,
While scorning woman's fears,
Oh, strongest in her gentleness,
And mightiest in her tears!
"Fair as thine own heroic deed
Thou risest on my dream,
A halo is around thee,
'Tis the tempest's lightning gleam—
Upborne by every billow,
And o'erswept by every gale,
One sound hath nerved thy noble heart—
The dying seaman's wail!
"Thine eye onto the wreck is turned—
Thy hand is on the oar—
Where is that death-prolonging shriek?
It thrills the seas no more!
A human soul to life hath risen
Where'er thy wing hath waved:
The wail is hushed—the storm is past—
The perishing are saved!
"Thou standest, like thy native home,
A beacon lit on high;
Thy name comes o'er the waters
Like a nation's gathering cry;
And England's sons shall hail thee,
Where'er that name shall thrill,
A glory upon every wave—
A light on every hill!"
So much praise was enough to turn the head of any less sensible girl than our heroine; but one who knew wrote of her after this time, in the "Berwick and Kelso Warder:"—"It is indeed gratifying to state, that amidst all the tumults of applause, Grace Darling never for a moment forgot the modest dignity of conduct which became her sex and station. The flattering testimonials of all kinds which were showered upon her, never produced in her mind any feeling but a sense of wonder and pleasure. She continued, notwithstanding the improvement of her circumstances, to reside at the Longstone lighthouse with her father and mother, finding, in her limited sphere of domestic duty on the sea-girt islet, a more honourable and more lasting enjoyment than could be found in the more crowded haunts of the mainland, and thus afforded, by her conduct, the best proof that the liberality of the public had not been unworthily bestowed."
A paper written in the "Scotsman" on the subject is exceedingly good, and no doubt amazed and delighted Grace as much as those that were more apparently eulogistic; for to a sensible, modest girl, too much praise is more disagreeable than none at all.
"The Grace Darling Mania.—Never was poor girl in so fair a way of being spoiled as Grace Darling. We were amongst the first to acknowledge the credit due to this young damsel for her exertions at the wreck of the 'Forfarshire;' but really we begin to have serious apprehensions lest she herself should be whirled away by the tide of public favour which has set in so strongly towards her. Truly, the storm which roared and whistled over the Fern rocks on the night of her achievement has awakened a pretty echo in the mainland. Not only have large sums of money been collected throughout the country to reward the little heroine, but various silver cups and medals have been presented to her, both from private individuals and humane societies. Five pounds, it is said, have been given by one person (though not to her) for a lock of her hair, while the painter, the sculptor, and the poet, have caught the mania, and endeavoured to give permanence to her celebrity. She has even been represented on the London stage in the person of Mrs. Yates, and some whispers were lately afloat of her appearing in Batty's arena in propria persona. She is also, we perceive, made the subject of a tale now in course of publication; while a vessel lately launched at Sunderland has been called after her name. In short, Grace Darling is the fashion. Dukes and Duchesses have entertained her as their guest, and she has even been honoured and rewarded by Royalty itself. What mortal girl could bear up against such rewards—such flatteries? Without detracting from her really praiseworthy conduct, there is, we think, in the sensation she has created, a little touch of the romantic. Had Grace Darling been a married woman, dwelling in some poor alley in an ordinary town, and with no rarer or prettier an appellation than Smith, Brown, M'Tavish, or Higginbottom, a greater deed would, perhaps, have won her less favour. But a young woman—a sea-nymph—inhabiting a rock in the ocean, and coming to the few survivors of the wreck, like a bird of calm over the troubled waters—who, that has a beating pulse, could resist! Grace Darling, too, is a name to take one's heart and one's memory; and although 'a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,' we cannot for all the pretty pleading of Juliet, read or speak about roses without feeling something of their fragrance. If, previous to that deed which has gilded her humble name, any honest fisher-lad ever saw in Grace Darling more to admire than even the world has seen since, he will win a true heart if he contrive to keep her affections. Those who have accidentally risen are, in general, the least inclined to stoop; and if she do not number suitors with Miss Burdett Coutts or Queen Victoria herself, Malthus or Martineau, one, or both of them, must answer for it. Meanwhile with Grace Darling we have no quarrel; and if her modesty only outlive the honours heaped upon her, we shall be the first to acknowledge that her courage has deserved them."