command soon saw that he should only throw away his own life and the lives of those with him if he should attempt to go near enough to receive any one on board. The foremast now fell, and still the stout ship hung together. Other boats came up and got as near as it was possible to go. That those on board thought she would not hold together much longer was evident by the efforts they began to make to escape. First we observed a man descend the foremast as if with the intention of swimming ashore. His courage, however, forsook him; he paused and returned. Again he climbed along the mast, but hesitated--it was indeed a desperate undertaking. At length he cast himself into the water: immediately he was overwhelmed. Would he ever again reach the surface? "Yes! yes! there he is," cried out several. For a moment he was seen struggling bravely. A groan escaped from the spectators: "He's gone! he's gone!" "No, no, he is still floating," many shouted out. So he was; but whirled here and there, blinded and confused, he was unable to guide himself. He was seen, happily, from one of the boats: she dashed forward, and he was hauled on board without apparently having struck a rock. All this time the people on the wreck had been watching him with intense anxiety, especially the poor lady: "If a strong and bold swimmer could scarcely be saved, what chance had she?" Hassall made the remark. "Not one would have a prospect of being saved if trusting only to his own strength; but there is a Ruler above," said Captain Mason, who had hitherto been watching the wreck without speaking; "He may save that poor woman on the wreck as easily as the strongest seaman." I have often since thought of my friend's remark. It is not our own right arm, but God in heaven, without whose knowledge not a sparrow falls to the ground, who preserves us in many dangers. Captain Mason begged for the use of Hassall's glass, and looked steadfastly through it at the wreck. "It is impossible, yet the figure is like--I cannot make it out," I heard him say. The success of the first man induced another to attempt reaching the shore. He hurried along to the end of the mast and threw himself into the water. The boiling surges whirled him round and round--now he was concealed by the foam--now he appeared struggling onward--still it seemed scarcely possible that he could escape from the boiling cauldron--just then a broken spar floated near him. Had the end struck him he must have been lost, but it came on so that he could clutch the middle. Tightly he grasped it till like his shipmate he was floated near one of the boats and taken on board. Two other men, encouraged by the success of the first, attempted to reach the boats by the same means, but scarcely had they committed themselves to the water when a huge roller came roaring on, dashing over the ship, and as it receded swept them off far away to sea; for a moment their forms were