persons of his own sex with violence before he could keep the crowd
back. Some twenty-seven people clambered into the boat, and then a man
of genius cut away the head-rope, and flung the helpless screaming
company into the sea. Twenty-five of them were drowned. It will be a
relief if time reveals any ground of hope that the men of our
manufacturing towns will lose no more of the virtues which we used to
think a part of the English character--coolness and steadiness and
unselfishness in times of danger, for example. The Englishmen who live
in quiet places have not become cowardly, so far as is ascertained; nor
are they liable to womanish panic. In the dales and in the
fishing-villages along our north-east coast may still be found plenty
of brave men. Where such disgraceful scenes as that rush to the
"Alice's" boat are witnessed, or selfishness like that of the men who
got away in the boats of the "Northfleet," there we generally find that
the civilization of towns has proved fatal to coolness and courage.

Curiously enough, it happens that within six miles of the rock where the
"Alice" struck, a splendidly brave thing was done, which serves in
itself to illustrate the difference that is growing up between the race
that lives by the factory and the men who earn their bread out-of-doors.
Passing southward from the Bondicar Rocks you come to a shallow stream
that sprawls over the sand and ripples into the sea. You wade this
stream, and walk still southward by the side of rolling sand hills. The
wind hurls through the hollows, and the bents shine like grey armour on
the bluffs of the low heights. You are not likely to meet any one on
your way, not even a tramp. Presently the hills open, and you come to
the prettiest village on the whole coast. The green common slopes down
to the sea, and great woods rustle and look glad all round the margin of
the luxuriant grass-land. Along the cliff straggle a few stone houses,
and the square tower with its sinister arrow-holes dominates the row.