On the 21st of September, 1854, the _Arctic_, according to her usual course, left Liverpool for New York. She had on board 233 passengers, of whom 150 were first class, together with a crew of 135 persons, and a valuable cargo. At mid-day on the 27th of that month, when about 60 miles south-east of Cape Race, and during a dense fog, she came in contact with the French steamer _Vesta_. By this collision the _Vesta_ appeared at first to be so seriously injured that, in their terror and confusion, her passengers, amounting to 147, and a crew of fifty men, conceived she was about to sink, and that their only chance of safety lay in getting on board the _Arctic_. Impressed with this idea many of them rushed into the boats, of which, as too frequently happens, one sank immediately, and the other containing thirteen persons was swamped under the quarter of the ship, all on board of her perishing. When, however, the captain of the _Vesta_ more carefully examined his injuries, he found that, though the bows of his vessel were partially stove in, the foremost bulkhead had not started. He, therefore, at once lightened his ship by the head, strengthened the partition by every means in his power, and by great exertions, courage, forethought, and seamanship, brought his shattered vessel without further loss into the harbour of St. John’s. [Sidenote: _Arctic_ founders.] In the meantime a frightful catastrophe befell the _Arctic_, and one so little anticipated that the persons on board of her, supposing that she had sustained only trifling injury by the collision, had launched a boat for the rescue of the passengers and crew of the _Vesta_. It was soon, however, discovered that their own ship had sustained fatal injuries, and that the sea was rushing in so fast through three holes which had been pierced in the hull below the water-line, that the engine fires would be soon extinguished. The _Arctic’s_ head was therefore immediately laid for Cape Race, the nearest point of land, but in four hours from the time of the collision, the water reached the furnaces and soon afterwards she foundered. As it was blowing a strong gale at the time, some of the boats into which her passengers and crew rushed were destroyed in launching, others which got clear of the sinking ship were never again heard of, and only two, with thirty-one of the crew and fourteen passengers, reached Newfoundland. Among those who perished were the wife of Mr. Collins and their son and daughter, but the captain, who remained on board to the last, and the first as well as the second and fourth officers were saved. Seventy-two men and four females sought refuge on a raft which the seamen, when they found the ship sinking, had hastily constructed, but one by one they were swept away—every wave as it washed over the raft claiming one or more victims as its prey; and at eight o’clock on the following morning, one human being alone was left out of the seventy-six persons who, only