reck. I
went into the little church at Llanalgo, where upwards of thirty bodies
lay upon the floor--still in their wet garments, just as they had been
laid down by those who had brought them from the shore. As I entered
that church one body lay directly in my path. It was that of a young
sailor. Strange to say, his cheeks were still ruddy as though he had
been alive, and his lips were tightly compressed--I could not help
fancying--with the force of the last strong effort he had made to keep
out the deadly sea. Just beyond him lay a woman, and beside her a
little child, in their ordinary walking-dresses, as if they had lain
down there and fallen asleep side by side. I had to step across these
silent forms, as they lay, some in the full light of the windows, others
in darkened corners of the little church, and to gaze earnestly into
their dead faces for the lineaments of those whom I had gone to find--
but I did not find them there. Their bodies were washed ashore some
days afterwards. A few of those who lay on that floor were covered to
hide the mutilation they had received when being driven on the cruel
rocks. Altogether it was an awful sight--well fitted to draw forth the
prayer, "God help and bless those daring men who are willing to risk
their lives at any moment all the year round, to save men and women and
little ones from such a fate as this!"

But, to return to Joseph Rodgers. The cliff to which he volunteered to
swim was thundered on by seas raised by one of the fiercest gales that
ever visited our shores. It was dark, too, and broken spars and pieces
of wreck tossing about increased the danger; while the water was cold
enough to chill the life-blood in the stoutest frame. No one knew
better than Rodgers the extreme danger of the attempt, yet he plunged
into the sea with a rope round his waist. Had his motive been
self-preservation he could have gained the shore more easily without a
rope; but his motive was not selfish--it was truly generous. He reached
the land, hauled a cable ashore, made it fast to a rock, and began to
rescue the crew, and I have no doubt that every soul in that vessel
would have been saved if she had not suddenly split across and sunk.
Four hundred and fifty-five lives were lost, but before the catastrophe
took place _thirty-nine_ lives were saved by the heroism of that Maltese
sailor. The Lifeboat Institution awarded its gold medal, with its vote
of thanks inscribed on vellu