"There blend the ties that strengthen Our hearts in hours of grief, The silver links that lengthen Joy's visits when most brief. "Then dost thou sigh for pleasure? Oh do not wildly roam; But seek that hidden treasure At home--dear home!" It is a great safeguard to girls to love their homes. If they find their highest delight in contributing to the pleasure of brothers and sisters, and the comfort of those who have tended their infant years, it is a good sign. But those maidens who are impatient of the family restraints, and who cannot be happy unless they are enjoying the excitements of society, are in danger of losing the winning graces of true womanhood. It is at home that there is opportunity for the display of all that is sweet and good in the female life and character; and it is there that true goodness shines the most brightly. Let English girls remain attached to their own home-circles, and deserve such praise as the wise man gives to the excellent woman--"Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all." CHAPTER X. THE PERILS OF THE OCEAN. "Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell; Then shrieked the timid, and stood still the brave; Then some leaped overboard with dreadful yell, As eager to anticipate their grave; And the sea yawned around her like a hell, And down she sucked with her the whirling wave, Like one who grapples with his enemy, And tries to strangle him before he die. "And first one universal shriek there rushed, Louder than the loud ocean, like a crash Of echoing thunder; and then all was hushed, Save the wild wind, and the remorseless dash Of billows; but at intervals there gushed, Accompanied by a convulsive splash, A solitary shriek, the bubbling cry Of some strong swimmer in his agony."--Byron. It seems a sudden transition to turn from summer pic-nics to shipwrecks; but every reader knows how often, even in the midst of the world's pleasures and gaieties, mankind is startled by thrilling stories of the tragic experiences of some of the great human family. It has already been said that Grace Darling, in her lonely life upon the Longstone rocks, surrounded only by the changeful elements, must often have found in them her unconscious tutors. Who has not felt his soul expand under the influence of a boundless ocean-prospect! But it is the sea in storms, when it tosses about the ships which have dared to invade it, as an angry child throws away its toys, that it is most grand and awful. And this object is the one that is often present to those who live by it. It may be that the best lessons which the sea taught the lighthouse girl were those connected with its angry hours; and that the repetition of startling casualties which she witnessed, or of which she heard, may have played an important part in schooling her to that degree of coolness and intrepidity which were necessary for the sublime act which made her famous.