s lying and sleeping now
Under the verdant turf.
Ah, there were breakers she might not ride!
And her hair grew damp in that strong, dark tide,
But not with the briny surf.

"And out of her lonely grave
She bids us this lesson prove,
That the weakest may wipe some tears that flow,
And the strongest power for good below
Is the might of unselfish love."

In 1860, the Iris, of Arbroath, struck on the rocks close to where the
Forfarshire was lost. The wind was so terrific, and the sea ran so
high, that the crew were afraid to take to their boat. They accordingly
leaped into the water, and were washed on to the rock, though it was
with the greatest difficulty that they managed to reach it. Here they
remained twelve hours, the sea being so rough that no boat could come to
them. Towards evening, the wind having slightly fallen, William
Darling, who was then seventy-five years of age, and had been watching
the wreck all day, put off with several hands from the lighthouse, and
rescued the poor fellows from their perilous position.

We had a scramble over a portion of the Farne Islands, on which there
are two lighthouses at a considerable distance from each other. There
are three keepers belonging to the two, but only one remains on watch at
a time; he has to attend to both lights, and has to walk from house to
house. The keeper showed us a curious contrivance by which he can at
once rouse the sleeping keeper without leaving his own post. It
consists of a hand-bellows attached to a tube which rings a bell at the
ear of the sleeper. He told us that occasionally blackbirds and
thrushes are killed by striking against the lantern. We saw a number of
rabbits running in and out of their burrows. There is an old chapel
which has been restored and another building, converted into a
dwelling-house for the clergyman, who at times comes across from Durham.

Nat, who had landed with us, was very anxious to keep a young cormorant
which he had picked up. He took it under his arm, intending to carry
off his prize; but the mother bird attacked him so furiously with its
long beak, that it nearly put out one of his eyes, and succeeded in
severely biting his lip. On this, Nat very naturally let go the
youngster, which scuttled off, determined not to be caught again, and,
taking to the water, swam away at a great rate. The odour produced by
the birds was anything but pleasant. We saw a number of c