SELF-DEVOTEDNESS OF SAILORS.

THERE is no part of the task which in con- ducting this publication we have imposed on ourselves, from which we anticipate more satisfaction than the relation of acts of self- ilevotion and gallantry exhibited by the mariners on our sea-coasts; and although we may not often have an opportunity for placing before our readers a narrative of such stirring interest as that of the wreck on the Brissons Rocks, at the Land's End, re- corded in the April number of this Journal, yet there is little doubt but that we shall frequently be able to bring before their notice deeds which shall be well calculated to excite their interest and engage their sympathy.

And a useful and improving thing it would doubtless be, if we were to contemplate, oftener than we are apt to do, the virtues which so frequently adorn the walks of humble life. Jewels they are, which, though often roughly set, may yet be of the purest water,-r-flowers of brightest hue, though " born to blush unseen." One of the most beautiful and affecting tales with which the sacred Scriptures abound, and which has enlisted the sympathies of every generation of Christians, is that of the good Samaritan, selected by our Saviour as an illustration of the duty of man to his neighbour. And if this simple act of self-denial and generosity, exerted by the good Samaritan towards a suffering fellow- creature who accidentally crossed his path, was considered by the Judge of human conduct as an act of virtue worthy of being held up for the admiration and ensample of mankind, we may fairly consider cases sought out at great personal risk, even to loss of life, as worthy of being recorded; and of such a character are many of those deeds brought to light in the rescue of the shipwrecked mariner.

The opportunity does not often occur to us of performing such great acts of self- devotion as the risking our life to save that of our fellow-creature, and we are little apt to seek out such occasions. If we entertain kind feelings towards those about us,—act justly in our dealings with others,—give of our superfluity to the poor,—and pass not by on the other side if one needing our help be placed in our way,—we are apt to think we have done all that is expected of us as regards our duty towards our neighbour. If, however, we may not think ourselves per- sonally called upon to do more, we may yet admire and assist those who do, even though they be of a class which, we may be apt to think lightly of as formed in an inferior mould to our own. And it is amongst that class we shall find enacted such deeds of practical Christianity as those we allude to. Are we sure that under similar cir- cumstances we should be ready to do the like? The better to appreciate such acts, let us suppose a situation in which any of us might be placed. The night is cold and dark; the wintry blast is howling through the trees, and the rain or snow is beating against our windows; our wife and children are asleep, and as we compose ourselves to slumber on our bed of down, the comfort of our situation enhances in our imagination the horrors of the,scene without! We are suddenly disturbed by a knocking at the door and earnestly entreated to get up and face the inclemency of the night to rescue a neighbour from an attack of robbers or to save his house from the flames. Can we feel certain that we should readily obey the call,—that no fears of danger or illness might suggest to us an excuse, and induce us to turn a deaf ear to the request? Yet what is the case with the hardy seaman on our coast? In his humble dwelling he, too, hears the howling wind and beating rain, and in addition the lashing and roaring of the waves, to the dangers of which he is not the less fully alive because familiar with them. He is suddenly aroused from sleep by the cry of " a wreck!" His clothes are soon around him and his door behind him ; the night has no terrors for him; no fears of illness or danger divert him from his purpose; he lingers not to reflect that a few moments more and his wife may be a widow and his children orphans; he hesitates not to consider that the sea is high and his boat is frail,—that if she be upset certain death awaits him ; his soul is filled with a noble impulse,—he hears but the cry of distress,—his boat is manned,—he has soon pushed from the shore; if he succeed he has the approval of his conscience and of his friends,—if he perish he is lamented by them; but whether he perish or succeed, his gallantry and self-devotion are known per- haps to few beyond the little circle in which he moves. Yet shall we say that his deed has not been as noble as any of which man- kind is capable.

Reader! you may not be called on to perform such great acts, but you can, at least, appreciate them in those who are, and can do something towards their encourage- ment and assistance.

Having thus endeavoured to direct attention to and place in what we consider their proper light, the merits of this class of human actions, we shall proceed to illustrate them by relating from time to time as they occur the plain unvarnished account of such cases of self-devotion and of acts proceeding from a sense of duty as come within our knowledge. For the present we have selected the wreck of the Friendsbury; not that we suppose there may not be many equally deserving cases, but this instance happens to have occurred almost under our own eyes, and to be a case precisely in point.

On the 27th of January, 1852, at about two o'clock in the morning, the schooner Friendsbury, of Shields, laden with coals, was driven on shove within a short distance of the beach, about two miles south of Aldborough, on the coast of Suffolk. The vessel was presently seen by a coast-guard man on duty at the spot, who at once proceeded to Aldborough and called up the fishermen and such of the coast-guard as were at hand. The wind was blowing strong from the S.S.W. at the time ; there was a heavy surf on the beach, and the night was dark.

A considerable number of persons had speedily assembled, and a fine galley was soon manned, her oars being-double-banked, by the following eleven men;—JAMES JAGO, CHARLES KNIGHT, ROBERT LAWSOJT, coast- guardsmen; THOMAS CABLE, WILLIAM ELLINGFORD, WILLIAM RIGGS, HENRY TAYLOR, CHARLES PALLAXT, JONATHAN SALMON, WILLIAM WOODROW, CHARLES FRENCH, fishermen.

After having made repeated attempts, with the assistance of the other persons on the beach, to get the boat off, and she having been as often beaten back by the sea and drifted to leeward, she was finally upset and the whole of the crew thrown out of her.

A horse having been then procured and attached to another and smaller boat, she was dragged a distance of two miles along the beach to the spot abreast of which the vessel lay, accompanied by the coast-guard and about thirty of the fishermen of Aid- borough.

The sea was breaking over the vessel, and although she was not far from the beach, yet the danger of going off to her was imminent, since from the heaviness of the surf the drawback (as it is called) was so great, that had the boat been upset it would have been impossible for her crew to have swam through it to the beach, and the risk was still further increased by the darkness of the night, which would have prevented their being seen by the persons on shore, who could not, therefore, have rendered assistance by throwing them lines.

They were not, however, daunted, and five men, viz., THOMAS CABLE (who had been already thrown out of the galley), JOHN TAYLOR, WILLIAM GREEN, GEORGE WARD, and GEORGE CABLE, having manned the boat, were assisted off by the remainder on the shore, and they succeeded in reaching the vessel and in bringing the whole of her crew of six men in safety to the land.

We consider this transaction worthy of record, not solely from the act of courage exhibited by the men who saved the ship- wrecked crew and by those who made the unsuccessful attempts to do so, but also as it shows the good feeling by which all who were present were influenced, and their steady perseverance until they had obtained success.

Some forty or more persons, all we believe in the same humble station in life, and uninstigated by those whom they might be sup- posed to look up to, of their own accord get out of bed in the middle of night, with the sole view of rendering assistance to their fellow-creatures in distress; they make various efforts which fail, but they persevere; and their perseverance is ultimately rewarded by success.