subscription and consideration, half-a-crown
each! Had they saved the casks of butter
and lard, that would have given them a
legitimate claim to salvage; but as it was,
they had no claim at all. It should be added
that the sailors knew this at the time.

Coast sailors are always well aware of the
inhuman condition of the law in this respect;
sometimes, their necessities urging, and a great
occasion tempting them, they abandon the
saving of life for the preservation of property
—according to the direct teaching of the law;
—but, in general, they will never see any fellow
creatures perish, if risking their own lives,
without hope or chance of reward, can preserve
others.

A striking instance—one of the many that
take place every year on different parts of
the British coast—has recently occurred at
Broadstairs.

The "Mary White" of London, on her
first voyage, was wrecked on the north-east
part of the Goodwin Sands, on the sixth
instant. The vessel was descried at
daybreak from Broadstairs, and, at this time, a
gale of wind was blowing from the north-
east, which always causes a terrific sea. The
life-boat was soon launched, and eight young
men volunteered to risk their lives in an
attempt to save the crew, if possible. It was
evident to them, at first sight, that the vessel
was doomed to destruction, as the sea was
making a complete breach over her, and flying
half-mast high. Be it clearly understood that
as the men saw that the vessel was sure to go
down very speedily, their gallant venture was
not for cargo and profit, but to save life at
peril of their own.

The men were provided with Ayckbourn's
"life-belts," in case of being swept off into the
sea; and, as events turned out, it was very
fortunate for two of them that they had such
assistance in being kept on the surface. The
crew of the ill-fated vessel made an attempt,
as it was afterwards known, to get out their
long-boat, and one poor fellow got his wrist
broken in the effort; but the sea continually
swept completely over them, and rendered all
chance of launching the boat quite hopeless.

In about an hour from the time of starting,
the crew of the life-boat neared the vessel, and
having weathered her, they quickly made up
their minds that the only chance of saving
any of them would be to run through the
heavy sea, and board her. This was a daring
expedient, and the first sea made a rush clean
over them, men and boat; but the boat rose
like a wild duck out of the foam, and the
crew getting her under the lee of the vessel,
two of them succeeded in getting on board
of her. Seven of the crew were rescued,
and stowed safely in the life-boat; but the
captain and two men—by some extraordinary
want of perception of the fate that awaited
them—some yet more surprising mistrust—
a panic, taking the form of obstinate
perversity—or an invincible sense of duty—or
something else in their minds quite
inexplicable—actually refused to leave the vessel.

In vain did the two gallant fellows from the
shore endeavour to persuade them—they
persisted in remaining; and while this was
going forward, the life-boat broke adrift from
the vessel's side. The two of her crew still on
board, seeing clearly that their only chance
was to regain the boat, leaped over into the
surging waves, and made every effort to swim
towards her. In this most precarious attempt
they were fortunate enough to succeed. The
crew of the life-boat made several ineffectual
efforts to return to the vessel, but they could
not near her again. In half an hour she
heeled over on her beam-ends, and the captain
and his two men who had refused to leave
her, were seen to perish in the rigging.

There were three luggers, with their crews,
to leeward of the vessel; and they had exerted
themselves to the utmost to near her, but in
vain. The lugger, "Buffalo Gal" of Ramsgate,
took the crew in from the life-boat, and towed
her—the boat's crew being nearly exhausted
—into Ramsgate harbour.

We now come to a very weighty matter.
Where is the reward which these gallant
fellows ought to claim for such a service?
Nowhere. They have no claim. If they had
saved leather, or cheese, tobacco or bacon,
there would have been a positive and definite
claim—but as it was only human life, there is
nothing. A "subscription has since been
originated;" but this is entirely a matter of
private, or local, good feeling, and however
excellent in itself, this is not the precarious
way in which the due reward of such
services ought to be left. Nobody for one
instant can think so.

Now that the government is contemplating
the establishment of regular life-boat stations
at different parts of the coast, it is to be hoped
(ought it not to be demanded?) that the
question of reward should be re-modified with
some little consideration for the value of
human life, as compared with casks of butter,
bales of leather, cakes of copper, or pigs of
lead.

A CHILD'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

CHAPTER III.

ATHELSTANE, the son of Edward the Elder,
succeeded that king. He reigned only fifteen
years, but he remembered the glory of his
grandfather, the great Alfred, and governed
England well. He reduced the turbulent
people of Wales, and obliged them to pay him
a tribute in money, and in cattle, and to send
him their best hawks and hounds. He was
victorious over the Cornish men, who were
not yet quiet under the Saxon government.
He restored such of the old laws as were good,
and had fallen into disuse; made some wise
new laws, and took care of the poor and weak.
A strong alliance made against him by
ANLAF, a Danish Prince, CONSTANTINE, king