“The Anson sailed from Falmouth on Christmas-eve, on her station off the Black-rocks, as one of the look-out frigates of the Channel fleet. In the violent storm of Monday, blowing about W. to S.W. she stood across the entrance of the channel, towards Scilly, made the Land’s End, which they mistook for the Lizard, and bore up, as they thought, for Falmouth. Still doubtful, however, in the evening of Monday, Captain Lydiard stood off again to the southward; when a consultation being held, it was once more resolved to bear up for Falmouth. Running eastward and northward, still under the fatal persuasion, that the Lizard was on the north-west of them, they did not discover their mistake till the man on the look-out a-head, called out “breakers!” The ship was instantaneously broached-to, and the best bower let go, which happily brought her up; but the rapidity with which the cable had veered out, made it impossible to serve it, and it soon parted in the hawse-hole. The sheet anchor was then let go, which also brought up the ship; but after riding end-on for a short time, this cable parted from the same cause, about eight in the morning, and the ship went plump on shore, upon the ridge of sand which separates the Loe Pool from the bay. Never did the sea run more tremendously high. It broke over the ship’s masts, which soon went by the board; the main-mast forming a floating raft from the ship to the shore; and the greater part of those who escaped, passed by this medium. One of the men saved, reports, that Captain Lydiard was near him on the main-mast; but he seemed to have lost the use of his faculties, with horror of the scene, and soon disappeared.” We have not language to convey an adequate picture of the terrific view which presented itself; but justice demands that we notice the conduct of a worthy member of a sect but too much vilified. At a time when no one appeared on the ship’s deck, and it was supposed that the work of death had ceased, a methodist preacher, venturing his life through the surf, got on board over the wreck of the main-mast, to see if any more remained; some honest hearts followed him. They found several persons still below, who could not get up; among whom were two women and two children. The worthy preacher and his party saved the two women an some of the men, but the children were lost. About two P.M. the ship went to pieces; when a few more men, who, for some crime, had been confined in irons below, emerged from the wreck. One of these was saved. By three o’clock, no appearance of the vessel remained. She was an old ship—(a 64, we believe, cut down)—which accounts for her beating to pieces so soon on a sandy bottom.