crowded into the boats, and the last sailor was cutting the rope. I
cried out, and prayed them to take us with them; but my voice was
drowned in the roar of the tempest, nor could they have returned for us
through waves that ran mountains high. All hope from their assistance
was lost; but I was consoled by observing that the water did not enter
the ship above a certain height. The stern, under which lay the cabin
which contained all that was dear to me on earth, was immovably fixed
between two rocks. At the same time I observed, towards the south,
traces of land, which, though wild and barren, was now the haven of my
almost expiring hopes; no longer being able to depend on any human aid.
I returned to my family, and endeavoured to appear calm. "Take courage,"
cried I, "there is yet hope for us; the vessel, in striking between the
rocks, is fixed in a position which protects our cabin above the water,
and if the wind should settle to-morrow, we may possibly reach
the land."

This assurance calmed my children, and as usual, they depended on all I
told them; they rejoiced that the heaving of the vessel had ceased, as,
while it lasted, they were continually thrown against each other. My
wife, more accustomed to read my countenance, discovered my uneasiness;
and by a sign, I explained to her that I had lost all hope. I felt great
consolation in seeing that she supported our misfortune with truly
Christian resignation.

"Let us take some food," said she; "with the body, the mind is
strengthened; this must be a night of trial."

Night came, and the tempest continued its fury; tearing away the planks
from the devoted vessel with a fearful crashing. It appeared absolutely
impossible that the boats could have out-lived the storm.