of the many voiced waters, as they dashed their
giant waves against the ill-fated bark, that groaned and trembled
beneath their mighty pressure.

Mingling with the tumultous groans of troubled nature, arose a fearful
cry, from lips white with fear.

The solemn voice of prayer went up, and there were none to scoff, when
the aged man bent his knee, and lifted his heart to God in prayer,
beseeching him, for Jesus Christ's sake, to have mercy upon their
souls. Many prayed in that hour of trial that never prayed before.
It was an hour that closed the scorner's lip, and made the most
profligate feel he was in the presence of a prayer-hearing God.

The bell, as if by some mysterious agency, commenced tolling, and its
sad knell sounded through that long night, over the bosom of the lone
sea. It was the same bell that rang so loud and clear on the day of
the boat's first departure from New York; but now how different are
the tones as they mingle with ocean's wail, and the fearful shriek of
the howling blast.

It was like the changes that come over us so often, as we toss upon
the tide of life, and buffet its adverse storms.

Many, ere morning dawned, found a watery grave.

It is not my intention to particularize, but draw the contrast of the
first and last night the beautiful boat tossed upon the mighty deep.

Perchance the same eyes that witnessed her departure from the shore,
anxiously watched her return that morning, and the anticipated
greeting of many a dear friend burned bright in many a heart, but was
soon--very soon--to be forever extinguished, as the loved, expected
form was even then buried beneath the ocean wave. Many a mother had
prepared the sumptuous thanksgiving breakfast, for a long-absent
expected son, who, perchance, was offering up his thanksgiving anthem
before the throne of God.

Hoary age and helpless infancy fell alike, before the destroying
angel, and there were vacancies in almost all the relations of life.

How often it is thus with those who sail in life's frail bark, out
upon the ocean of time. The morning may be calm and serene, and the
golden sun shed his glad beams upon our joyous pathway, or the pale
moon may walk forth in her beauty, accompanied by all the hosts of
twinkling stars, to gladden the night, while gentle winds sigh around
our dwellings, and we may pass on in the sunshine and the calm. But
clouds will arise, tempests will come, for the waves and billows of
human passions wil