weather bow, and strong indraught to the shore? Had she trusted to her sailing powers only, would she not have consulted her weather-glasses more anxiously, and kept well out to sea? We do not attempt to answer these questions, but we ask them deferentially, sorrowfully, and under a due sense of responsibility. 'The "Royal Charter," like others of her class, was probably built for speed rather than for strength; and it is no secret that these Australian clippers are severely strained by "carrying on." It is no matter of surprise, then, that the ship "split amidships" after she struck, "letting her engines and passengers through," and afterwards parted longitudinally "at the forehatch." Even the "Great Eastern" would have been' [was] 'sorely tried by such a sea on such a shore. Let us draw a veil of pity over the horrors of that scene. The poet of "The Shipwreck," with all his imagination, aided by all his terms of art, has not conceived anything more terrible than the sudden, complete and indiscriminate destruction of the "Royal Charter" with her four hundred and seventy souls on board, and her chests of gold--all going down together in that hungry sea, and torn to pieces by those cruel rocks. Yet even a calamity like this has its compensations; for all on board, from Captain Taylor--who by his stedfast devotedness and unalterable courage preserved discipline to the last, and died like a British seaman at his post of duty--to the poor seaman who volunteered to carry through the blinding hurricane and the foaming surf a hawser to the rocks, and the good clergyman who calmly said the last prayers for the dying, all met death unflinchingly, and in their last moments left an example to the few who survive, and to all who mourn them.' The above is the most notable article which has appeared on this disaster. It deals with gale, ship, captain, causes, and results. Its penultimate paragraph seems to me to hit the secret of the casualty direct. The _Morning Chronicle_ is rather didactic than descriptive:--