it to their respective governments.

Encouraged to persevere in my endeavours, by the flattering support and approbation of many distinguished and enlightened characters, I am induced to hope that the day is not remote, when this contemplated institution may be established on a permanent basis, by the united energies of a noble and a benevolent nation, to whose support such a cause has never yet been addressed in vain.

The interest which this subject has already excited, has induced me to commit another edition of my pamphlet to the press; whilst the magnitude and vital importance of these objects, to our country and to mankind,—on our own and every foreign shore,—in the present and every future age,—will, I trust, best plead my excuse as a retired individual, and acquit me from the charge of presumption, in having had the temerity to submit my views to the consideration of so many illustrious personages, and for the earnest solicitude with which I have addressed myself to the humanity, the benevolence, and the justice of the British nation.

10th November, 1823.

AN APPEAL,

&c.

For many years, and in various countries, the melancholy and fatal shipwrecks which I have witnessed, have excited a powerful interest in my mind for the situation of those who are exposed to these awful calamities; but the idea of the advantages which would result from the establishment of a national institution, for the preservation of human life from the perils of the sea, first suggested itself to me during my residence on a part of the coast, often exposed to the most distressing scenes of misery, and where the dreadful storms of the last autumn prevailed with unusual violence.

On some occasions, it has been my lot to witness the loss of many valuable lives, under circumstances, where, had there been establishments previously formed for affording prompt relief, and encouragement given to those who might volunteer in such a cause, in all probability the greater part would have been rescued from destruction. At other times I have seen the noblest instances of self-devotion; men have saved the lives of their fellow-creatures at the peril of their own, without a prospect of reward if successful, and with the certainty that their families would be left destitute if they perished.

From these considerations, I have been induced to wish, that the results of the experience, talent, and genius of the most distinguished commanders, and men of science, should be united in the formation of one great Institution, which would in itself embrace every possible means for the preservation of life from the hazards of shipwreck.

Though many individuals have employed their time, their attention, and often exposed their personal safety for this object, yet nearly the whole of the most extensive and dangerous parts of our coasts are left without any means having been adopted, any precautions taken, for rendering assistance to vessels in distress; and, winter after winter, we have the most afflicting details of the consequences attendant on this lamentable apathy to human misery—an awful destruction of life, on almost every shore which surrounds the British dominions: acts have even sometimes been perpetrated at which humanity shudders, and which have caused other nations to cast reproach and opprobrium on the British name.

But individual efforts, however meritorious in themselves, are unequal to produce all the benefits contemplated, or to remedy all the evils, attendant on one of the most tremendous of perils to which human nature is exposed, and which is most likely to fall upon those who are in the very prime of manhood, and in the discharge of the most active and important duties of life. From the calamity of shipwreck no one can say that he may at all times remain free; and whilst he is now providing only for the safety of others, a day may come which will render the cause his own.

These are not arguments founded on the visionary contemplation of remote or improbable dangers. Their urgent necessity must be obvious to every mind. So long as man shall continue to navigate the ocean, and the tempests shall hold their course over its surface, in every age and on every coast, disasters by sea, shipwrecks, and peril to human life, must inevitably take place; and with this terrible certainty before our eyes, the duty becomes imperative, that we should use every means to obviate and to mitigate the deplorable consequences.

This subject in a peculiar manner appeals to the British people collectively and individually. For ages, our seamen have been the acknowledged support of our splendour and our power; and until every thing which the ingenuity of man can suggest, and every inducement and regulation which social institutions can offer and arrange, have been combined into one great plan for their safety, we shall be wanting in our best duties to them, to our country, and to ourselves.

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