Dunlap, one of the survivors, informs us that at about half-past ten, as nearly as he could conjecture, one of the men who had been below came to him on the forecastle and told him the ship was sinking; in a few minutes after, the ship took a lurch as a boat will do when nearly filled with water and going down; immediately on which Dunlap began to ascend the fore shroud, and at the same moment casting his eyes towards the quarter deck saw Capt. Barker standing by the gangway and looking into the water, and directly after heard him call for the jolly-boat. At the same time he saw the Lieutenant of Marines running towards the taffrail, he supposed to look for the jolly-boat, as she had previously been let down with four men in her--but instantly the ship took a second lurch and sank to the bottom; after which neither the captain nor any other of the officers was seen. The scene, sufficiently distressing before, became now peculiarly awful--more than 240 men, besides several women and children were floating on the waves making their last efforts to preserve their existence. Dunlap, whom we have before mentioned, gained the fore top. Mr. Galvin, the master's mate, after incredible difficulty, got into the main top--he was below when the ship sank, directing the men at the chain pump. He was washed up the hatchway, thrown into the waist and from thence into the water, and his feet as he plunged, struck a rock. On ascending, he swam to gain the main shrouds when he was suddenly seized hold of by three men--he was now afraid he was lost. To disengage himself from them he made a dive into the water which induced them to quit their hold. On rising again he swam to the shrouds and arrived at the main top and seated himself on an arm-chest which was lashed to the mast.