r, and all that was left to her admirers was to
show their sympathy and affection by letting her life and death teach
them some salutary and valuable lessons.

She was interred in the graveyard of the ancient Church of Bamborough,
on the Monday after her death, and the funeral was numerously attended
by those who were anxious to render her the last tribute of respect.
The pall was borne by Robert Smeddle, Esq., of Bamborough Castle;
William Barnfather, Esq., from Alnwick Castle; the Rev. Milford Taylor,
of North Sunderland, and Mr. Fender, Surgeon, Bamborough. Her father
and her brother William were chief mourners, and eight of her more
immediate relatives followed. Mr. Evans, Officer of Customs,
Bamborough, and a young man from Durham, who had most sincerely and
fondly loved Grace, were also among the mourners. And after them came
an immense concourse of people of all ages, and belonging to all
classes of society, many of whom were deeply affected.

It may be said, indeed, that the world which had applauded her, now
mourned her loss. Death comes alike to the lowly dweller in the
cottage-home and the nobleman in his mansion, but it seems particularly
sad when such people as Grace Darling are stricken down so early in
life. But though she so soon left the world which she brightened by
her presence, her good deed did not die with her, and its influence
remains still. Who can tell how much Grace Darling has had to do with
the change which has certainly come over people's minds with regard to
the training and education of girls? It is not now considered a thing
to be proud of that a girl should be delicate and useless. Such
expressions as "young ladyish" and "missish" have far less meaning now
than they used to have; for girls of all classes are more sensible,
strong, and courageous, than they were at one time. Some heroic
actions are performed by young women every day; and it may be they have
gained their inspiration from the story of the maiden of the Farne
Isles. We cannot but lament her early death; but she, "being dead, yet
speaketh;" and her voice, that was so gentle and meek in her lifetime,
is heard still in all lands where her name is familiar. And her quiet
death-bed was so hallowed a scene, that as we turn from it we cannot
but think of the home to which she has gone, where the good and
illustrious of all ages and all lands have met together. And there may
it be the privilege of the writer and reader