REVD. AND DEAR SIR,--I arrived safe at Lisbon on the twelfth of the present month after a passage which, considering the season in which it was made, may be termed a fair one. On the morning of the tenth we found ourselves about two leagues from the coast of Galicia, whose lofty mountains gilded by the rising sun presented a magnificent appearance. We soon passed Cape Finisterre, and standing farther out to sea speedily lost sight of land. On the morning of the eleventh the sea was very rough, and a most remarkable circumstance occurred. I was on the forecastle, discoursing with two of the sailors, [and] one of them who had just left his hammock told me that he had had a most disagreeable dream, for, said he, pointing up to the mast, 'I dreamt that I fell into the sea from off the cross-trees.' He was heard to say this by several of the crew besides myself. A moment after, the captain of the vessel, perceiving that the squall was increasing, ordered the topsails to be taken in, whereupon this man with several others instantly ran up aloft. The yard was presently loosened, and in the act of being hauled down, when a violent gust of wind whirled it round with violence, and a man was struck down from the cross-trees into the sea, which was raging and tumbling below. In a few moments he emerged, and I saw his head distinctly on the crest of a wave, and I recognised in the unfortunate man the sailor who shortly before had been relating his dream. I shall never forget the look of agony he cast us whilst the ship hurried past him. The alarm was given, and in a moment everything was in confusion. It was at least two minutes before the vessel was stopped, and the man was left a considerable way behind, but I still kept my eye upon him, and could perceive that he was struggling gallantly with the waves. A boat was at length lowered, but the rudder unfortunately was not at hand, and only two oars could be procured, with which the men who manned her could make but little progress in the tremendous sea; however, they did their best, and had arrived within ten yards of the man who had continued struggling for his life, when I lost sight of him, and the men on their return said that they saw him below the waters at glimpses, sinking deeper and deeper, his arms stretched out and his body to all appearance stiff, but they found it impossible to save him. Presently afterwards the sea, as if satisfied with the prey it had received, became comparatively calm, and the squall subsided. The poor fellow who was drowned in this singular manner was a fine young man, twenty-seven years of age, the only son of a widowed mother. He was the best sailor on board, and beloved by every one who was acquainted with him. The event occurred on the 11th of November 1835, the vessel was the 'London Merchant' Steamship, commanded by Captain Whittingham. Wonderful indeed are the ways of Providence.