We may be sure that Grace Darling's friends greeted her birthday with the old fashioned, but significant wish, "Many happy returns of the day." She had become exceedingly dear to them, and they wanted to keep her with them. Life is not too bright at any time, but it becomes dark indeed when our friends die. There are some lives that seem necessary, not only to their own immediate circle, but to the world at large, and there are many who desire that they may live long. It was so in the case of our heroine. Wherever she appeared, she stirred men's hearts to deeds of heroism and courage, and the world seemed to need her stay in it. Moreover, for her own sake it appeared desirable that she should linger in a state in which she received so much honour, and was so greatly and universally beloved. As yet, she scarcely knew how sincerely she was appreciated, and how much good her simple unselfishness and devotedness had done. Had she lived until the shadows of old age crept on her, and she who had helped others needed help herself, then indeed she would have known how tenderly the people of England had enshrined her in their hearts. They wished it. It is a deeply-seated belief that long life is a blessing, and that to die early is a misfortune. The belief, popular as it is, may be a mistaken one; but it dwells in almost all hearts, and it would have kept Grace Darling here had it been possible. But it was not. A voice, very low, but so clear and distinct that it was most plainly heard, was already speaking to the very soul of the lighthouse-girl. She heard it in those quiet evenings when her eyes looked over the sea, and she often wondered what the wild waves were saying. In the busy mornings, when her hands took up the household tasks, in order to lighten her mother's burdens, she received the summons which had surely been sent to her. And even then she prepared to go. Not for her were long years spent in the enjoyment of those comforts which kind friends had provided for her. Hers was to be the early fading of the flower, for the insidious disease which carries off so many beloved ones from our midst had already marked her for his prey. Says a writer of her--"She died in that beautiful period of her life when all seems hallowed, so that the heart turns to her in her loveliness, beauty, innocence, and purity, and venerates her as a gem of virtue and a true heroine;" and he adds, "We are apt to regret that one so deserving should be cut down so young." And all who contemplate the life of Grace Darling must feel the same. And yet we need not suppose that the prayers of her friends were unheard or unanswered. If that which we call death were really ceasing to live, then indeed we might well pray to have this life continued. But the Christian knows better; and to him there is great significance in those words written long ago--"He asked life of Thee, and Thou gavest it him, even length