the shore, her lover and his ship would not, in
all human probability, have perished.

"Then," said Birtha, "henceforth there shall be a land-mark on this coast!
and I will furnish it! Here at least, no fond and faithful girl shall
again have to lament over her blighted prospects, and pine, and suffer
as I have done."

She sent immediately for the clergyman of the parish, made her will,
and had a clause inserted to the following effect: "I desire that I
may be buried on the top of the tower of C----r church! and that my
grave may be made very high, and pointed, in order to render it a
perpetual land-mark to all ships approaching that dangerous navigation
where he whom I loved was wrecked. I am assured, that, had there been a
land-mark on the tower of C---- church, his ship might have escaped; and
I humbly trust, that my grave will always be kept up, according to my
will, to prevent affectionate hearts, in future, from being afflicted as
mine has been; and I leave a portion of my little property in the hands of
trustees, for ever, to pay for the preservation of the above-mentioned
grave, in all its usefulness!"

Before she died, the judicious and benevolent sufferer had the
satisfaction of being assured, that her intentions would be carried into
effect.

Her last moments were therefore cheered by the belief, that she would
be graciously permitted to be, even after death, a benefit to others,
and that her grave might be the means of preserving some of her
fellow-creatures from shipwreck and affliction.

Nor was her belief a delusive one---The conical grave in question gives so
remarkable an appearance to the tower of C----r church, when it is seen at
sea, even at a distance, that if once observed it can never be forgotten,
even by those to whom the anecdote connected with it is unknown
--therefore, as soon as it appears in sight, pilots know that they are
approaching a dangerous coast, and take measures to avoid its perils.

But if the navigation on that coast is no longer as perilous as it was,
when the heroine of this story was buried, and the tower of C----r church
is no longer a necessary land-mark, still her grave remains a pleasing
memorial of one, whose active benevolence rose superior to the selfishness
both of sorrow and of sickness; and enabled her, even on the bed of death,
to _contrive_ and _will_ for the benefit of posterity.

It is strange, but true, that the name of this humble, but privileged
being