who could make an accurate abstract of Bishop Butler’s Analogy from cover to cover, and another who became possessed of a small schooner, which made him a fortune while he was still in the service.  The wives of these three coastguardsmen were quite as well informed and as ardent religionists as themselves, and took a common interest in books, educational matters, and in each other’s home affairs.  Their homes were always neat and clean, and the children were disciplined into a rigid, methodical life.  It is a remarkable fact that the sons of each of these men have all risen to high positions in commerce, literature, art, and politics, and those that still survive are proud to acknowledge that they owe their position to the splendid example and beautiful home-life which they were taught to live when children.  Guarding the coast was not the only occupation of the Preventive Coastguard.

There arose in 1848 a manning difficulty in the Navy, which became so grave that the large force of disciplined men employed in protecting the revenue were drilled in gunnery to fit them for sea service.  Many of them were called out to serve aboard ship during the war with Russia in 1854.  One of the grievances in the service was the irritating and unfair policy of the Board of Customs in constantly moving the men from one station to another.  In many instances the hardships constituted a public scandal.  Adequate recompense was never made for this breaking-up of their little homes, and frequently when they arrived at some outlandish coast village there was no provision made for housing them.  I know of several instances where families were beholden to the generosity of the villagers or farmers for lodgings until a house was found.  During the interval their furniture was stored in some dirty stable or store.  It was not an uncommon thing for these poor fellows to be removed, with their families, from one end of England to the other two or three times in a year, at the behest of an uneasy bureaucratic commander-in-chief who knew little, and probably cared less, about the domestic hardships incurred.  From Holy Island or Spital to Deal in those days of transit by sea was a greater and more hazardous voyage than that of Liverpool to New York to-day.  The following story may give some idea of their life as they then lived it.

A group of fishermen stood at the north end of the row, watching a smart cutter that was beating from the north against a strong S.S.E. wind and heavy sea, which broke heavily on the beach and over an outlying reef of rocks which forms a natural breakwater and shelters the fishermen’s cobles from the strong winds that blow in from the sea during the winter months.  The cutter tacked close in to the north end of the ridge several times during the forenoon.  Her appearance was that of a Government vessel, and her commander evidently wished to communicate with the shore.  When the ensign was hoisted to the main gaff, the onlookers knew that she did not belong