One lovely evening, the sky was beautifully serene; the ocean like a clear mirror reflected the golden rays of the setting sun, and the light breeze just lulled the spreading sails to sleep, propelling the ship almost imperceptibly along at the rate of three knots[7] an hour. It was one of those evenings that baffle the painter’s art, and only the poet can portray; The first watch was drawing to a close; it had struck seven bells;[8] the seamen on the look-out had proclaimed “all’s well,” and every thing was again hushed to solemn stillness. I was standing on the gangway full of pensive musings, watching a bright star just kindling on the verge of the horizon. It beamed like a ray of hope, irradiating the gloom which hung heavy upon my heart; suddenly it expanded like the glowing meteor, and the ocean was illuminated with a red and gory tinge. I was struck with astonishment, but at the same moment an exclamation resounded fore-and-aft, “A ship on fire! a ship on fire!” and the horrid conviction was, alas! too evident. In a few minutes the flames were distinctly visible, and the ship was pronounced to be about five miles distant. Never before did I witness such alacrity among our crew, as in that hour of peril. The captain and every officer and man were on deck immediately; and as it was impossible for the frigate to approach in sufficient time to rescue the sufferers, before ten minutes had elapsed from the period of first noticing the fire, every boat was in motion towards the scene of danger. It fell to my lot to command the captain’s gig, a swift-pulling boat with seven men, who bent to their oars with all the might of brave and generous spirits. As we drew near, the destructive element raged with increasing fury, and the shrieks of the wretched creatures came mingling with the crackling of the flames and the crash of falling masts. The frigate had fired guns and hoisted lights to show them succour was at hand, and the boats’ crews occasionally cheered to announce that they were approaching to their rescue. The shouts were returned from the burning ship, but so wild, so fearful, that they sounded like the yell of expiring agony that still clung to hope and life. I would have dashed instantly alongside, but the old coxswain respectfully warned me of the danger of such a measure.