ON the 3rd of November last, during the gale which produced such devastating effects on the coast of Suffolk, and on other parts of the east coast of England, a Swedish brig, the Vestor, was driven ashore near Orfordness, on the Suffolk coast. The beach at the spot was steep, so that she came within a few yards of the shore; but the sea beat so heavily over her, that it soon became evident she would not hold long together. All therefore that could be done was to endeavour to rescue her crew, which could only be attempted by their leaping into the midst of the surf, and being helped, through it by persons rushing into it to their assistance from the land.

In such cases, the manner in which those on the shore are able to assist is by going partially into the surf with a line fast to them, the other end of which is held by the bystanders on the land; or it is done by several linking hand to hand (forming a chain as they term it), when those who go furthest into the surf are supported by those who have a firmer footing on the shore.

Yet this is a service often attended with much danger, however short the distance from the vessel to the shore, and so it proved in the present instance.

Intelligence of the brig being ashore had been speedily conveyed to the Coast-guard station at Orford, two miles distant; and the officer in charge immediately started "for the spot, accompanied by THOMAS CABLE, a boatman belonging to Aldborough, and then doing temporary duty as an extra man' in the Coast-guard force at Orford. CABLE had three or four different times previously assisted in saving the lives of shipwrecked crews, and was noted for his unflinching courage and disregard of personal risk on such occasions. A record of his gallant conduct will be found in the account of the wreck of the Friendsbury in the 5th No. of this Journal. Alas, poor fellow ! it pleased God that this should be his last service in the sacred cause of humanity.

Being, we presume, a more active man than his officer, and being impelled by his usual desire to be quickly on the spot where his services might be useful, he speedily left him far behind. On reaching the fatal spot a rope was fastened round his body, and a young Swedish lad was soon within his grasp, and saved from the merciless waves; he had again plunged into their midst to the rescue of the captain of the vessel, but it was not to be—the thread of his own life was spun—his power to do good or ill in this world of trial had ceased. The rope that had been fastened around him broke; a receding wave drew him under the bottom of the vessel, at the moment raised from the ground, and which then falling upon him, crushed him in an instant! The officer of the Coast-guard had not yet arrived at the spot ere a messenger had reached him, and he had learned that the eye which but a few minutes before had looked into his own was closed in death that the heart which so shortly before had beat in unison with bis, though not yet cold, had ceased to throb for ever—that the limbs which but now had exceeded his own in strength and swiftness, lay broken and motionless—that a cottage home had lost its head and support, and that a happy wife was enrobed in the desolate garb of widow- hood, bereaved of her stay and support in this world, with five helpless children left too soon to brave the storms of life, deprived of their chief earthly protector and friend.

We can scarcely conceive a more affecting instance of the uncertainty of human life— of the inscrutableness of God's dealings with us, who, on this temporary stage often suffers evil to prosper, and virtue to be ex- tinguished whilst in the very act of exerting itself. Yet is it not calculated, also to awaken other feelings than those of com- miseration and melancholy ? Life is short at the longest. A little sooner or a little later seems scarce to matter much when viewed side by side with eternity. Not to live long but to live well should be the chief ob- ject of all human ambition. Brighter and holier is a short path, lit up with sunshine and flowers, than a long and dreary road through a bleak and barren wilderness. So, a short life is long enough to perform many noble acts—to do our duty to God and man; whilst the longest life may be spent in the worship of self and the pursuit of sensual gratifications, which is nothing less than in the service of the devil.

Now we know not what, in other respects, was this poor man's daily life. We know not what religious or moral advantages it may have pleased God to bestow on him; or to what account he may have turned them; but this much do we know, that He had planted in his breast a noble impulse to serve his suffering fellow-creatures, and that he did not " bury it in a napkin." A few words will shortly sum up all we know or care to know of his humble history: A short life—some noble acts—and a noble end. How many of the marbled and monu- mented dead cannot boast of so proud an epitaph on their tombs! Youthful readers, be ye high or low, rich or poor, God has planted within you some germ of His spirit: be careful that you nip it not in the bud. He has lit up within you some spark of heavenly light; pray that you may quench it not. He has granted you many opportunities to improve whatever good gifts He has endowed you with; be- ware that you throw them not away.