the night, our sails flapping and beating in a frightful
manner. The boatswain and third mate exerted
themselves a great deal, but the men did not appear to know
their work. It immediately began to be whispered
about that we should never reach the end of our voyage
—the crew being a mixed medley of many nations,
having a very imperfect acquaintance with the English
language, and being consequently unable to understand
the captain's orders. About midnight we passed within
a stone's throw of some light and land which the passengers
supposed to be Holyhead. The weather continued
rough, and our confidence in the crew decreased every
minute, though we saw we had a splendid vessel under
us. A more beautiful ship I believe never sailed the
seas. During the night of Friday the weather moderated
a little, and when we came on deck next morning we
found the ship with top gallant sails, topsails, and lower
sails set. A person who came from Devonport with us,
Mr. Nicholls, said to us, 'the captain is doing wrong in
hoisting so much sail; we shall have more wind, and
the crew will not be able to take in sail should any
emergency arise.' The weather, as the day wore,
became boisterous and hazy, and about I think, ten
o'clock, the log line was thrown, when it was said we
were going five knots an hour, steering south-west by
west. About twelve o'clock a friend came down to the
cabin where I was, and said 'there's land close to us,
and they are afraid the ship will go ashore.' I
proceeded on deck, where a horrible scene of confusion met
my eye. Before us, at a short distance, rose the bleak
and rocky island of Lambay, round the base of which
the waves were dashing furiously, while the vessel, quite
unmanageable in the hands of her crew, was drifting
towards it with fearful rapidity. The deck was crowded
with passengers, male and female, who, perceiving their
danger, were in a state of almost frantic terror. The
captain attempted to wear the ship, but she would not
pay off, but continued to drift toward the rocks. He
then order the staysail and, I think, the spanker to be
set, which were done. The mate then directed the man
at the helm to keep her full, but it was no use. Just at
this moment I heard the chain running out with
the anchor; the first mate called out 'hold on,' but
both anchors were let go—they snapped like glass. And
now began a scene of the most frightful horror—some
running below to get what they could, others praying,
some taking leave of their friends, wringing their hands
and beseeching them for help. The vessel after striking
lay so close upon the rocks that several persons
attempted to jump ashore. The first person who jumped
on the island struck his head against the rocks, and fell
back into the water with his head frightfully cut, and
after struggling a short time, sank. The next person
who jumped from the vessel made good his footing, and
was followed by several others—I believe the Chinese
and Lascars belonging to the crew. They also
succeeded in making good their landing, and as soon as
they had done so scampered with all haste up the
rocks, never attempting to assist those on board. Several
now swung themselves on the rocks, which were but a
few feet from us. I managed to swing myself on shore,
and retained the rope in my hand. I passed the end of
it up to some of those behind, and by this means a great
many more were enabled to come on shore. To attempt
to paint the heart-rending scene on board the ship
would be impossible—wives clinging to their
husbands—children to their parents—women
running wildly about the deck, uttering the most heart-
rending cries—many offering all they possessed to
persons to get them on shore. Among some of the
earliest of the females who attempted to get on shore
were some young Irishwomen. Most of them lost their
hold of the rope, and fell into the sea. The doctor of
the ship, a most noble fellow, struggled hard to save his
wife and child. He had succeeded in getting about half
way to the shore on a rope—holding his child by its
clothes in his teeth—but just then the ship lurched
outwards, by which the rope was dragged from the hands of
those who held it on the lower rocks, and was held only
by those above, thus running him high in the air, so
that the brave fellow could not drop on the rock. Word
was now given to lower the rope gently, but those who
held it above let it go by the run, and the poor fellow,
with his child, was buried in the waves; but in a short
time he again appeared above the water manfully
battling with the waves and the portions of the wreck
that now floated about him. He at length swam to a
ladder hanging by a rope alongside the ship, and got
upon it. After he had been there a minute or two, a
female floated close to him; he immediately took hold
of her, and dragged her on the ladder, tenderly parted
the hair from her face, and appeared to be encouraging
her; but in another minute she was washed from his
hold, and sank almost immediately. He then got up
again into the ship, and tried to get his wife on shore,
but they both perished. He deserved a better fate!
The scene was now most truly awful. The most
desperate struggles for life were made by the wretched
passengers—great numbers of women jumped overboard,
in the vain hope of reaching land, and the ropes were
crowded by hundreds, who, in their eagerness, terror,
and confusion, frustrated each other's efforts for self-
preservation. Many of the females would get half way,
and then become unable to proceed further; and, after
clinging to the rope for a short time, would be forced
from their hold by those who came after them. Three
women only, out of 200, were saved. One of those had
got part of the way across when her legs fell and she
hung some time by her two hands over the foaming
waves; her husband then came on the rope, and
managed to assist her to the shore. Two men came on
shore with children tied to their backs; but of the whole
who fell into the water, none but five were saved. I
saw one fine girl, who, after falling from the rope,
managed to get hold of another one, which was hanging
from the side of the ship, and which she held on to for
more than a quarter of an hour, the sea every moment
dashing her against the side of the ship, but it was
impossible for us to render her any assistance. Some one
got a spar out, by which several got on shore; but it
soon broke, and now might be seen hundreds hanging
to the bulwarks of the ship, each struggling to get on
shore. I saw one young woman hanging on the middle
of the rope for some time by her two hands, but those
pushing to get on shore soon sent her to her doom. The
ship's stern now began to sink; the ship made a lurch,
and all the ropes were snapped asunder. The scene
now was most harrowing. Every wave washed off
scores at a time—we could see them struggle for a
moment, then, tossing their arms, sink to rise no more.
At length the whole of the ship sunk under water.
There was a fearful struggle for a moment, and all,
except two, who were in the rigging, were gone. The
coast guard, who had been apprised of the wreck, now
came up, but all they could do was to attempt to save
the two who were in the rigging. They managed to get
a line to one of them by fastening two lines, at the end
of each of which was a piece of wood, to a single
line, and guiding it from the rock to the spot where the
poor fellow was, so that he could reach it. They then
dragged him ashore. There was one fine young man left
in the top, but they could not reach him, and when he
saw them going away his cries were heart-rending. About
two o'clock the next morning the coast guard managed
to reach him, after he had been in the top fourteen
hours. You may fancy the poor fellow's joy at his
deliverance. We found we were on Lambay Island,
three miles from Rush and about thirteen miles from
Dublin. God grant that we may never witness such a
scene again."

SOCIAL, SANITARY, AND MUNICIPAL
PROGRESS.

Mr. Charles Dickens read his two Christmas books,
the "Carol," and the "Cricket on the Hearth," in the
town-hall of Birmingham, on the evenings of 27th, 29th,
and 30th of December. The receipts were paid over to
the funds of the New Institute at Birmingham. The
readings were attended by above six thousand persons;
the last evening being devoted to the working-classes.

A Gothic church, situated in Gordon-square, was
solemnly opened on the 1st inst., and intended to be the
cathedral of the Body of Religionists Founded by the
late Reverend Edward Irving. The service commenced