“From all I have heard respecting him,” writes the Hon. Mr. McArthur, “self seems to have been altogether lost sight of. Nor does it appear that he paid any special attention to his beloved wife, to whom he was most ardently and devotedly attached, but his whole heart and mind seem to have been engaged in the great work of endeavouring to lead those by whom he was surrounded to flee for refuge to the only hope set before them.” Nor though we do not hear so much of Dr. Woolley as we do of Mr. Draper throughout the appalling calamity, are we therefore to suppose that he was untrue to his sacred calling, and to the loving instincts of a very kindly heart. Had the facts of his life been before us, we should doubtless have been able to speak of him with as much length as we have of the Wesleyan preacher. One who evidently knew and loved him has said, “Not much is said about him; but we know in what manner he would die and help others to die. His public career may be told in other ways, but this one word is in remembrance of the man himself--the good man--John Woolley.” On Wednesday, as we have said, the testimony concerning Mr. Draper’s efforts, and the results attending them, is clear and decisive. Prayer and religious instruction had become general, and the saloon was transformed into a sanctuary, from whence ascended the voice of supplication and weeping to Him who was alone able to save. There were earnest wrestlings of soul amongst those who felt themselves face to face either with heaven or hell. It was hard to feel all at once that they _must_ die, that there could be no escape. It was hard for the newly-married of a week only to feel that all the joys and hopes of life must be ruthlessly terminated. It was hard for all who had formed their plans for the future, or who had just left in England those whom they held so dear, or who had brought their little children out with them intending to settle in a new home,--very hard for all to be told with a decisiveness which there was no gainsaying, that they _must_ die. And no wonder that in the first burst of agony which this conviction brought with it, many gathered round the Minister, crying, “Pray with me, Mr. Draper. Pray for me, Mr. Draper.” And he _did_ pray. Those who knew him have much to tell of his power in prayer, of it being the effectual and fervent supplication of a man, “who was as sure of answer as if voices from heaven told him he was heard.” Happy indeed the man, who seeing death written in every face, and surrounded by the weeping and conscience-stricken, had no time and no disposition to care for himself, in the Christ-like work of caring for others. As he drew nearer to Heaven, he had yet deeper fellowship with the sufferings of that blessed Master he served, who, while hanging upon the cross, had leisure to think of all wants but His own. The Master saved others; Himself he could not save.