'The passengers were crowded in the saloon, where the scene was of the most heartrending description. Children and parents, husbands and wives, were clinging to each other in despairing embraces. The captain endeavoured, hoping against hope, to reassure those under his charge. Mr. Hodge, a missionary from New Zealand, did his best to administer religious consolation, but the victory was on that black Wednesday morning with the demon of the storm. A succession of tremendous waves swung the "Royal Charter" from the rocks, and she parted, first amidships and then longitudinally, and was soon but a mass of shapeless spars, eddying about in a briny maelstrom. All the officers, save, as we mentioned yesterday, the carpenter and a boatswain's mate, perished. Captain Taylor was the last man seen alive on board. A few of the crew saved themselves; the remainder were hurled upon the rocks, and suffered a speedy but agonizing death. It is some miserable consolation, however, to record that between thirty and forty of the passengers and seamen were enabled to save their lives by means of the hawser, rigged at the peril of his life by the man described as a Negro. If this hero, foreigner and civilian as he may be, does not deserve the Order of Valour, Horatio Nelson was a coward, and Bayard was false and craven.' The _Observer_ has a leader which, dealing with what may be termed the technics of the matter, stands out from the mass of articles which have appeared in the weekly papers:--