THE following account of the rescue of the crew and passengers of a shipwreck like that of the steam-ship Stanley, off Tynemouth, on the fearful night of the 24th November last, is taken from an admirable and most interesting little volume, recently published, on the intrepidity and skill of our life-boat men. i A fine manly tone pervades the whole * " The Life-boat: A Tale of our Toast Heroes." By R. M. BALASTYNE. Illustrated. London: James Nisbet and Co, Price 5s.

book; and as stories of storm and shipwreck —of perils bravely encountered, and dangers narrowly escaped have always peculiar attractions for the young, we strongly recommend a perusal by them of this little volume:— " It would," says the author, "be a matter of some interest to ascertain how many of the inhabitants of this busy, thickly-peopled isle are aware of the fact that during every storm that blows while they are slumbering, perchance in security and comfort in their substantial dwellings, there are hundreds —ay, thousands—of hardy seamen all round our coasts, standing patiently in such sheltered spots as they can find, encased in oil-skin, and gazing anxiously out into the dark sea, regardless of the pelting storm, indifferent to the bitter cold, intent only on rendering aid to their fellow-men, and ready at a moment's notice to place life and limb in the most imminent jeopardy. . . . No individual in the land, however far removed from the coast, can claim exemption from the dangers of the sea. His own head may, indeed, be safe from the raging billow, but at any moment the sea may grasp some loved one, and thus wreck his peace of mind, or ingulf his property and wreck his fortune. . . . If we could, by the exercise of supernatural powers, gaze down on our shores as from a bird's-eye point of view, and take them in with all their stirring incidents at one glance; if we could see the wrecks, large and small—colliers with their four or five hands — emigrant-ships with their hundreds of passengers, beating and grinding furiously on rocks that seem to rise out of and sink into the sea of foam; if we could witness our life-boats, with their noble-hearted crews, creeping out of every nook and bay in the very teeth of what seems to be inevitable destruction ; if we could witness the hundred deeds of individual daring done by men with bronzed faces and rough garments, who carry their lives habitually in their hands, and think nothing of it: if we could behold the flash of the rockets, and hear the crack of the mortars and the boom of the minute-guns from John o'Groat's to the Land's End at the dead and dark hours of night, when dwellers in our inland districts are a-bed, all ignorant, it may be, or thoughtless in regard to these things; above all, if we could hear the shrieks of the perishing, the sobs and thanksgivings of the rescued, and the wild cheers of the rescuers; and hear and see all this at one single glance, so that our hearts might be more filled than they are at present with a sense of the terrible dangers of our shores, and the heroism of our men of the coast, we might contribute more largely than we do to the support of that noble institution whose work it is to place life-boats where they are wanted on our coasts, and to recognize, reward, and chronicle the deeds of those who distinguish themselves in the great work of saving human life." On getting alongside they found the wreck to be a very large ship. Its black hull towered high above them, and the great yards swayed with fearful violence over their heads. A single glance showed that she was crowded with men and women.

The grapnels were thrown, and Guv, starting up, seized the immense boat-hook used by lifeboats, and stood ready to hook on to the rigging.

He succeeded in fixing the hook, but a violent lurch of the ship tore the handle out of his grasp and cast him into the bottom of the boat. Just then a man was seen to run out on to the mainyard, and slip down by a rope close to the sea.

The boat sheered up towards him, and several arms were stretched out to save; but the boat glided away, and the succeeding wave ingulfed him. Only for a second, however: when it passed, the man was still seen clinging to the rope; the boat once again sheered up so close that he was induced to let go his hold. He dropped into the sea close alongside, caught one of the life-lines, and next instant was in the boat.

" All right! Give me the boat-hook," he cried, seizing the handle as he spoke, and affixing it, with the strength of a giant, to the chains of the ship.

The tone of this man's voice thrilled to Gur's heart. He sprang forward and seized him by the arm. One glance was sufficient.

"BAX!" " GUY!" There was no time for more. The astonishment of both was extreme, as may well be supposed, and that of Guy was much increased when he heard another familiar voice shout— "All right, BAX?" "All right, TOMMY; let them look alive with the women and children; get up a light if you can" There were others in the life-boat who recognized these voices, but life and death were trembling in the balance at that moment; they dared not unbend their attention from the one main object for an instant.

Some one in the Trident (for it was, indeed, that ill-fated ship) seemed to have anticipated BAX'S wish. Just as he spoke, a torch made of tar and oakum was lighted, and revealed the crowded decks, the raging sea that sought to swallow them up, and the life-boat surging violently alongside.

It was an appalling scene; the shrieks of the women and children, mingled with the howling wind, the rush of the waves on the ship's side, and the shouting of men, created a din so horrible that many a stout heart 'quailed. Fortunately the men who were the most active in the work of saving others were so taken up with what they were about that there was no room for thought of personal danger.

The first human being placed in the boat was a little child. Its mother, despairing of being saved herself, pressed through the crowd, held her little one over the side, and cried out, " Save my child!" BAX leaped on the air-chamber at the bow of the boat, and grasping the shoulder of a boatman with one hand, stretched out the other towards the child; but the boat swooped forward and brought him close under the chains, where a sailor held a woman suspended in his arm, ready to drop her into the boat when it should come close alongside. It did not, however, approach sufficiently near. The next wave carried them back, and enabled BAX to seize the child and lay it in a place of safety. The mother was soon beside it, and in a short time the boat was quite filled.