ng must be admitted by
all who reflect that during upwards of forty years it has been engaged
in the grand work of saving human lives. Up to the present date, it has
plucked 18,225 human beings from the waves, besides an incalculable
amount of valuable property. It is a truly national blessing, and as
such deserves the support of every man and woman in the kingdom. (See
footnote.)

But, to return from this prolonged yet by no means unnecessary
digression,--let us remind the reader that we left him at the meeting in
the town-hall of Covelly, of which, however, we will only say further,
that it was very enthusiastic and most successful. That the mayor,
having been stirred in spirit by the secretary's speech, redeemed
himself by giving vent to a truly eloquent oration, and laying on the
table a handsome contribution towards the funds of the Society. That
many of the people present gladly followed his lead, and that the only
interruption to the general harmony was the repeated attempts made by
Mr Joseph Dowler--always out of order--to inflict himself upon the
meeting; an infliction which the meeting persistently declined to
permit!

Thereafter the new lifeboat was conveyed to its house on the shore,
where, however, it had not rested many weeks before it was called into
vigorous action.

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For the sake of those who sympathise with us, and desire to give
substantial evidence of their goodwill, we would suggest that
contributions may be sent to the secretary, Richard Lewis, Esquire, 14
John Street, Adelphi, London.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

THE STORM AND THE WRECK.

Listen, O ye who lie comfortably asleep, secure in your homes, oblivious
of danger, when the tempest is roaring overhead! Come, let us together
wing our flight to the seashore, and cast a searching glance far and
near over the strand.

On a certain Friday morning in the year 18 hundred and something, a
terrific gale broke over the east coast, and everywhere the lifeboat men
went out to watch the raging sea, knowing full well that ere long there
would be rough but glorious work for them to do. A tremendous sea ran
high on the bar at Tynemouth, and rolled with tremendous force on the
Black Middens--rocks that are black indeed, in their history as well as
their aspect. A barque was seen making for the Tyne, towed by a
steam-tug. A sudden squall struck them; the tug was forced to let