a rush made for the ladder which had well nigh upset our kind monitress.

On reaching the deck, however, we were agreeably relieved from our anxiety by finding that it was a fish, and not a man, which had fallen into the sea; and as 66 one man's meat is another man's poison," so the poor creature found its safety from extremest peril in an element which has proved fatal to thousands upon thousands of men.

It seemed some of the sailors were amusing themselves harpooning porpoises, and, one being struck, the line was instantly manned, and a run made with it; but just as it was on the point of being hauled in upon the vessel's deck, it contrived to wriggle itself clear of the harpoon, and fell into the water.

It was at this moment when a cry was set up by the disappointed sailors of "he's overboard," and the loud splash, caused by the bulky fish falling into the water, caught her ear, that our fair friend put her foot on deck, and as quickly left it again, to convey to us the interesting intelligence she believed herself capable of imparting.

I remember once seeing a man fall from the main-topmast-head of a line-of-battle ship, striking the rigging repeatedly in his rapid descent, and finally bounding from it into the sea.

F

We all gazed with speechless horror, concluding the poor fellow must be dashed to pieces; but I could hardly refrain from smiling when, on jumping on to the poop, and looking over into the water, I saw him swimming very composedly, and heard him say, in a tone in which no remarkable sign of emotion was observable, "lower a boat."

In about a fortnight from the day of his perilous fall this man was again at his duty, and apparently none the worse for it. He had, indeed, a marvellous escape from destruction. Whether in his momentary agony he cried "Lord, save me," I know not. It is probable he did; for in the hour of need, those who are usually the most careless and reprobate amongst us are ready enough to call for aid from Him who at other times they all but disown. Of this I am quite sure, that none but the Lord's hand had power to preserve him in that fearful moment; even the secondary causes, which make us sometimes unmindful of God's mercies to us, and disposed to attribute our rescue from peril and death, either to the brave exertions of other men, or our own strength and presence of mind, were here wanting.

But although something of the ridiculous may at times be mixed up with so fearful a calamity as that of a man falling overboard, it is in itself,

unquestionably, one of the most distressing accidents that can happen at sea; and one, when the man is lost, which strikes a chill into the hearts of all on board. The cry of "a ship close on board," or of "breakers right ahead," is startling and alarming. Still more so the quick tinkling of the bell which announces to the seaman that his ship is on fire. These sounds, however, whilst they make the pulse throb with unwonted rapidity, are calls at once to exertion. Every one has his station to go to, his prescribed duty to attend to, and the knowledge of personal danger at once rouses all our energies to cope with it. Indeed, the very weakness of our nature, our selfishness, and regard for our personal welfare, often tend to nerve and strengthen us, and make us act as if fear were a stranger to our bosoms, when in truth it reigns supreme there.

any

The cry of "a man overboard," however, whilst it carries with it no sense of personal alarm, depresses and unmans one more, perhaps, than other. "Who is it?" is our first interrogatory, and one that can seldom be immediately answered, although on it may depend the fate of brother, son, or dearest friend. "Can he swim?" is usually the second hurried question put, although the power of swimming in such circumstances is

frequently only a power to prolong one's agony,

not to aid in our preservation.

66

"He long survives who lives an hour

In ocean self-upheld."

But what is one hour, when a long, dark winter's night, perhaps, is closing in on the poor cast-away? He may struggle bravely for existence, as one who strives and tugs for life, and is by force subdued;" but long before the heavy hours of darkness wear away, and the dawn of another day breaks upon the world, eternity will have dawned upon him, unless some merciful interposition of Providence is vouchsafed in his favour. Such a display of the Divine mercy in man's necessity I am about to relate.

The sun had just set on a wild and threatening evening in the middle of November 184-, when H. M. steamer V- passed some leagues to the N. W. of Ushant, on her way to Lisbon.

The vessel was battling bravely against a fresh S. W. breeze, and diving bows under every moment, as she encountered the heavy sea which the wind, acting against a strong ebb tide, invariably makes in the chops of the Channel.

The people had not long been piped down from quarters, and some were below, some solacing

66

themselves with a whiff of tobacco, others grouped about the deck discussing the events of the past day, or prophesying those of the coming night, when the cry of a man overboard gave a sudden check to conversation, caused the ashes to be dashed from the pipe, and the half-sleeping man to start to his feet, and concentrated the thoughts of that little community, but lately so varied, upon one painful subject.

It was yet light enough to discern objects plainly; and thus the lieutenant in charge of the watch, Mr. M, quickly caught sight of a man struggling in the water in the wake of the vessel, and, calling out to the first lieutenant, who stood near him, "there he is," sprang at once into the

sea.

It was a generous impulse; but poor M had sadly miscalculated his powers as a swimmer, or his resolution; for no sooner did he find himself immersed, than all recollection apparently of the object for which he had plunged into the waves vanished from his mind; he was only alive to the danger of his own position; and, calling piteously for aid, he made at once for the vessel.

Almost at the instant that M— leaped from Mthe taffrail, C—————, the first lieutenant, rushed to the fore part of the quarter-deck and shouted