Local associations cannot call forth the energy which such a cause demands at our hands; they are only partial benefits, whilst the great evil remains unredressed. We have many noble institutions, widely spread through the extent of the British dominions, supported by voluntary contributions, and exalting our name above that of every other nation by our disinterested efforts in the cause of humanity; whilst this great and vital object to every Briton, seems alone to have been strangely and unaccountably overlooked, or only partially undertaken.

Our coasts are surrounded by land-marks as a guide by day, and lights and beacons by night; our mariners are furnished with charts of every sea, every rock is pointed out, every shoal set down, and every channel buoyed. Pilots are to be found at the entrance of every port, and all that science, indefatigable labour, and liberal expenditure can effect, to warn the seaman of his danger, and to prevent vessels from being wrecked,—all has long, and ardently, and ably been studied and accomplished.

Whilst the vessels are yet secure, every safeguard is at their command, amply supplied by public associations, or by the state; and towards which, on their safe arrival in port, they contribute their quota for the benefits they have received,—and all must but too often prove in vain; many may thus be warned of their danger, and be saved; shipwrecks will still continue to take place, despite of all human means, and their crews be exposed to every species of peril and distress,—but what then becomes their fate?

Wretched, exhausted, and in the last extremity of danger, on whom does their rescue devolve? to what body or class of men, or to which of our numerous departments, does it now become an honourable and an imperative duty to afford them assistance in this their utmost need?—where are the national funds for such an object, to supply ample means for the hazardous attempt, to reward the brave efforts of those who succeed, or to relieve the destitute families of those who perish in so honourable a cause?

The melancholy catastrophe closed, every human being on board having perished, or having quitted their shattered vessel in despair; the laws and usages of recompense are clearly defined;—salvage for the property preserved, in proportion to its amount.

But in the dreadful crisis between these two extremes, does one law of the land, or one National Institution, hold out the established claim to certain reward for a life saved?

In the nineteenth century, surrounded by every improvement and institution which the benevolent can suggest, or the art of man accomplish for the mitigation or prevention of human ills, will it for a moment be capable of belief, that there does not, in all our great and generous land, exist one National Institution which has for its direct object the rescue of human life from shipwreck?

The protection of property is in every stage a subject of legislation and of care;—the rescue of life from shipwreck has never yet been adopted as a national and a legislative object.

With the exception of the recompenses voluntarily given by the liberal institution of Lloyd's, the very few associations scattered thinly on the coasts, and the valuable inventions and gallant efforts of those brave and enlightened individuals who do honour to their country, our shipwrecked seamen are left in this awful situation, to the spontaneous exertions of enterprise and humanity, the chance of the moment, or the mercy of the winds and waves;—or rather let us say, to a greater mercy, and a higher Power.

It may be thought that this picture is overcharged; but unhappily, I believe it will be found too faithfully correct.