I never can forget one fearful Sunday morning, when it was bitterly cold and blowing such a north-easterly gale as it can blow at Ramsgate, before church I went on to the cliff to see what was going on, and there opposite the mouth of the harbour I saw one ship sunk, not very far from the entrance of the harbour, with its crew clinging to the masts. Our brave hovellers were doing all they could for their rescue, and I saw another smaller vessel, “with sails ripped, seams opened wide, compass lost,” struggling if possible to make the harbour. Oh, how I longed to run down and take my part in the efforts that were being made for their rescue! and I cannot answer for my thoughts during the time that I was obliged to be at church. No sooner was the service over than I was again on the cliff, and not a trace could I see of the sunken ship or crowded mast. It had fallen before any help could reach the poor fellows who were clinging to it, and all hands had been lost; but the little sloop was just entering the harbour, and I cannot describe the scene I witnessed when I went on board. There were five poor fellows completely worn out, wearied, hungry, cold, and frost-bitten, and I never shall forget the master of that vessel. As long as he was in the harbour I had a great deal of most happy intercourse with him, and in the course of it he gave me the following narrative of his voyage. He said he had one very dear friend, the mate of a collier brig, and they were together at Sunderland. His friend came to him in the evening of Christmas, and they had a delightful evening together, till at length his friend returned to his ship, and both vessels sailed for the South. All went well with him till he reached the mouth of the Thames, where he was caught by the gale and took shelter behind the long sand; but after a time the wind shifted, and his position became one of the utmost danger. He found his only hope of escape was to pass by the end of the sand, and he doubted whether this would be possible, and he knew that if once stranded on it he must be lost without a hope. The first thing was to hoist a sail, but in order to do this they had to clear the ropes of ice with their axe. They then hauled in the anchor, and the little vessel was soon in the midst of the boiling surf. The master himself took the helm, and said to the crew that their only help was in God, and bade them come and kneel around him while he steered and prayed. Very soon a huge wave appeared to lift the little ship right upon the bank, and let her down with a fearful scrape upon the sands. A second followed, which did the same, and then came the third, which seemed to carry them with still greater fury than either of the others; but when it let them down, what was their joy when they found that the spur of the bank was passed, and that their vessel was safely afloat. Their Heavenly Father had heard their prayers and saved them. But though immediate danger was past,