The writer in _The Shipwrecked Mariners' Magazine_ says, 'Ellerthorpe's exploits in saving life date from the year 1820, and from that time to the present it may be safely asserted that he has never _hesitated_ to risk his own life to save that of a fellow-creature. The danger incurred in jumping overboard to rescue a drowning person is very great. Many expert swimmers shrink from it. Ellerthorpe has encountered this risk under almost every variety of circumstance. He has followed the drowning, unseen in the darkness of the night, in the depth of winter, under rafts of timber, under vessels at anchor or in docks, from great heights, and often to the bottom in great depths of water, and what is very remarkable, never in vain. _Fortuna fortes favet_ (fortune favours the brave), is an adage true in his case. He never risked his life to save another without success.' Even to an experienced swimmer and diver, like our friend, the task of saving a drowning person is not easy, and the grip and grapple of some of those whom he rescued, had well nigh proved a fatal embrace, and it was only by the utmost coolness, skill, bravery, and self-control that he escaped. [Sidenote: HE CARRIES THE DROWNING IN HIS ARMS.] But he shall tell _his own_ simple, noble tale. 'During the last forty-eight years I have done all that lay in my power to rescue my fellow-creatures, when in drowning circumstances. By night and by day, in darkness or in light, in winter or in summer, I was always ready to obey the summons when the cry, "a man overboard," fell on my ears. And I have had to rescue the drowning in widely different ways. Sometimes I seized them tightly by the right arm, and then, hold them at arm's length, soon reached the land. In some instances they seized me by my shoulder or arm, when, leaving hold of them, and, throwing both my hands into the water, I managed to reach the shore. In other instances I found them so exhausted that they were incapable of taking hold of me, and in these cases, I had to carry them as a mother would carry her child. And in two or three instances, I thought they were dead, and, with feelings easier imagined than expressed, I bore them up in my arms; when suddenly, and with great strength, they sprang upon my head, and oftener than once, under these circumstances, I was on the point of being drowned. Some of those whom I saved were much heavier and stronger than myself, and when they got hold of me I found it difficult, and sometimes impossible, to shake them off. When I rescued Robert Brown, the night was pitchy dark, and for some time I could not see him; and when I got to him he clutched me in such a manner as to prevent my swimming. When I seized the young Woodman, I thought he was dead, but, after a few moments, he made a great spring at me, and clutched hold of my head in such a way as to prevent me swimming for some seconds. When pinioned closely, I generally adopted this plan, which proved to be the best