some kind of inscription, but were not more successful in the search than hosts of antiquaries who had gone before us. Faint traces of characters are alone visible on the broken marble slabs which face the podium. It is understood that the building was erected in the reign of the Emperor Titus, nearly 1800 years ago. Our next visit was to a singularly beautiful relic of art, which has lately been exposed to view at a short distance from the amphitheatre, on ground a little more elevated. This is the fragment of a Roman theatre, which had for centuries been partly buried in rubbish, and partly engrossed in some mean domestic structures. The principal objects now standing exposed in the midst of the excavation are two marble columns of the Corinthian order, surmounted by a portion of elegant entablature. had formed pillars of the scene, others for a similar purpose being destroyed, and lying in pieces on the ground. Part of the flight of stone seats for the audience is also entire, with some portions of walls used for the orchestra and the support of the stage. These After visiting some other antiquities in Arles, we embarked in a steamer on the Rhône, and ascended to Beaucaire, whence we took a railway-train to Nîmes. Here the remains of a Roman amphitheatre, fully more complete than that at Arles, engaged our attention. The whole town and neighbourhood abound in relies of antiquity of a stupendous class. The sight of one object, the Pont du Gard, being the remains of a Roman aqueduct across the river Gard, alone repaid us for much discomfort in travelling through the hot lime-dust region of Southern France. It is situated on the road from Nîmes to Avignon; the highway being carried along a modern bridge attached to the ancient structure. Having, as we thought, done ample justice to these interesting classical memorials, we returned up the Rhône, and in due time arrived safely in Paris. 'Ye gentlemen of England who live at home at ease, The HIS, like many other sing-song statements or implications, is not quite true. gentlemen who live at home at ease do think frequently of those dangers, and they do that which seamen too often neglect-they try to devise means for warding off or lessening them. Sailors are a peculiar class of men; they have a sort of Mohammedan fatalism about them which gives them a dislike to talk of impending perils, and somewhat paralyses their preventive measures. Captains and seamen are annoyed at any questions about danger put to them by passengers; and they would rather hide than exhibit such things as life-buoys and life-boats, and No. 69. 1 lightning-conductors. In so far as this springs from a desire not to foster nervous terror, it is a judicious plan; but the jolly tars cannot be quite acquitted of a little recklessness, in respect to the adoption of preventive or curative measures in moments of wreck; while shippers and shipowners are still more to blame in the matter. It is no part of the object of the present tract to harrow the feelings of the reader by a successive series of shipwreck narratives. The taste for that class of reading is somewhat morbid, and requires rather to be checked than encouraged. Every one is familiar with the details of a greater or lesser number of celebrated shipwrecks. There was the wreck of the Méduse French frigate off the coast of Senegal in 1816, when 140 men died out of 150 who attempted to escape on a raft. There was the wreck of the Alceste British frigate among the Philippine Islands in 1817, when the crew were so wonderfully saved by the admirable discipline maintained by Captain Maxwell. There was the loss of the Royal George at Spithead in 1782, when Admiral Kempenfeldt and 900 other persons were drowned. There was the loss of the Kent Indiaman, and the miserable sufferings of the crew. Instead of dwelling on such calamities as these, we think it may be more useful to connect the details in some way with a description of various means of rescue or prevention, now available to those who go down to the sea in ships.' Life-boats, life-buoys, buoyant garments, boat-lowering apparatus, life-rockets, cliff wagons, lightning-conductors-all are worthy of our notice, to the extent that they become practically available; and all are undergoing gradual improvement. If we give a few shipwreck narratives, they will be associated in some way with the want of these provisions. Among the lamentable proofs that large steamers are no more exempt than sailing vessels from the perils of the sea, is that afforded by the wreck of the Queen Victoria steamer, just as she was reaching the end of her voyage from Liverpool to Dublin. This sad event occurred in February 1853. The steamer arrived within sight of the light-house at Howth in the dead of the night, with 120 persons on board. There are two light-houses at Howth; but a thick fall of snow obscured the view; and under a feeling of doubt concerning the identity of one which was visible, the officers ran on towards shore at a higher speed than was prudent, and the ship struck with fearful violence. passengers, some of whom were in bed, were roused in the wildest confusion; and one of those heart-rending scenes ensued which we are unwilling to dilate upon. Nearly seventy persons were drowned. The starboard-quarter boat was speedily laden with people; but from some ill contrivance or management of the suspension ropes, the boat tilted over, and all on board perished. The larboard-quarter boat was then laden and lowered, and this would have been swamped also, for a plug-hole had been left 2 The open; but a lad on board thrust a finger into the hole, and kept it there until the boat safely reached the shore. In this, as in too. other cases, many the boats and their tackle were ill fitted for the services required of them-a matter on which we shall say more presently. If we needed proof that the finest ships, and vicinage to our steam-ship basins, are no bars to the wrecking power of a high sea, the sad disaster of the Duke of Sutherland would furnish proof indeed. This vessel, as many of our readers will well recollect, plied to and fro between London and Aberdeen, with speed and regularity; it was built of iron, and was furnished conveniently and elegantly. On the 1st of April 1853, the steamer arrived at the harbour of Aberdeen, after a successful voyage from London, bringing twenty-eight crew and twenty-four passengers. She arrived in broad daylight; but as the harbour of Aberdeen is difficult for ships coming from the south, she waited outside or off the harbour until a signal was given that the state of the tide permitted her to enter. A heavy flood from the river Dee, and a stiff breeze from the south, baffled the captain in his endeavour to enter at the right point, and the hapless ship struck with tremendous force against some rocks lying seaward at the head of the pier. Turning broadside on to the waves, the steamer lay a helpless log on the water. In a few minutes, the pier was crowded with thousands of spectators, some of whom reached within a very few yards of the vessel. She had grounded midships, and being built of iron, she began to break up within ten minutes after having struck. Several of the crew lowered one of the paddle-box boats, got into it, were capsized, and were pulled ashore one by one by the spectators. A life-boat, meanwhile, went out to the sinking ship, but could not get close to it on account of its swaying so fearfully to and fro. The wretched passengers endeavoured to jump from the ship into the boat; some fell into the sea and were drowned, some jumped into the boat and were brought to land. The boat tried to make a second venture, but was beaten back by the waves and surf. A fishing-boat next tried to render aid, but the terrible sea swamped it, and seven additional lives were sacrificed. One of Captain Manby's machines (described in a later page) being near at hand, it was hauled out; and after a few failures, a rope was shot athwart the yet remaining portion of the poor ship, and most of those still on board were rescued. No persons are believed to have been actually drowned in the ship itself, but many lost their lives in the varied attempts to reach the shore. Much comment was made at the time on the insufficiency of the various life-preserving contrivances at Aberdeen, and on the want of heroism displayed by most of the crew; but this is a matter on which we will not touch. No one can tell, unless he has shared the calamity, how the mind becomes unhinged in a moment of sudden danger, and how cool determination becomes overturned. The statistics of our shipwrecks are startling, far beyond what most persons would imagine. During the year 1850, there were 692 vessels, of 127,188 tons burden, wrecked belonging to Great Britain, or nearly two per day; of these, only four were steamers. The number 692 relates to British vessels wrecked in every part of the world; but if we change the point of view, and consider the vessels of all countries which were wrecked on the British coasts, we find the number to be 681. Of these, 277 were total wrecks; 84 were sunk by leaks or collisions; 16 were abandoned; and 304 were so stranded and damaged as to require them to discharge cargo. About 780 lives were lost in these wrecks. The sad story differed very little from this in 1851. There were in that year 701 vessels wrecked on the British coasts, involving a loss of 750 lives-351 were total wrecks; and 153 of the wrecks occurred in the month of September alone, which happened to be very stormy. The year 1852 gave a still worse account. There were no less than 1100 wrecks, and 900 lives lost. The three years 1850-1-2 present, then, this gloomy picture-that in 1095 days there were 2482 ships wrecked within the British seas, and 2430 lives lost by these wrecks: more than two ships and two lives every average day throughout the three years. Nor do the numbers for 1853 afford any room for congratulation. The busy scenes of our ports, owing to the Australian excitement and other causes, have been quite unexampled, and have been accompanied by a full measure of calamities. Some particular gales have strewed our coasts with wrecks. On the 31st August and 1st September 1833, 61 British vessels were lost on the sands in the North Sea and on the east coast of England. In the gale of 13th January 1843, no less than 103 vessels were wrecked on the coasts of the United Kingdom. In the gales of 1846, as many as 39 vessels got ashore in Hartlepool Bay alone. In the single month of March 1850, not less than 134 vessels were wrecked on our coasts. In September 1851, the monthly number was increased to 153, or more than five a day. But all this was fearfully excelled by the catastrophes of October and November 1852; within thirty days, 300 vessels were lost or damaged on our coasts, with a loss of 217 lives. If we take collisions and slight accidents into account, the numbers are much higher. In 1851, a parliamentary paper was published, giving a list of all the wrecks, accidents, and collisions recorded on the books at Lloyd's during the four years 1847-48-49-50: four years of calamities to British ships on the high seas and on maritime coasts. What a list it is, occupying 193 folio pages! The number considerably exceeds 13,000-not, of course, all shipwrecks; but an aggregate of wrecks, collisions, and other accidents, of which, however, two-thirds may be regarded as of a serious character. If distributed equally, they would amount to nine per day, or one in less than three hours-a ratio certainly deserving of national attention. The tremendous snow-storm, preceded and followed 4 |