lly into N., and even N.N.W.,
driving the brig ashore on the sand at about twenty minutes before
six o'clock. John Wallen, a native of Finland, and Charles Holdorsen,
a native of Sweden, were drowned alongside, in attempting to lower a
boat, neither being able to swim, the squall very dark, and the noise
of the breakers drowning everything. At the same time John Brown,
another of the crew, had his arm broken by the falls. Captain Trent
further informed the _Occidental_ reporter that the brig struck
heavily at first bows on, he supposes upon coral; that she then drove
over the obstacle, and now lies in sand, much down by the head, and
with a list to starboard. In the first collision she must have
sustained some damage, as she was making water forward. The rice will
probably be all destroyed: but the more valuable part of the cargo is
fortunately in the afterhold. Captain Trent was preparing his
long-boat for sea, when the providential arrival of the _Tempest_,
pursuant to Admiralty orders to call at islands in her course for
castaways, saved the gallant captain from all further danger. It is
scarcely necessary to add that both the officers and men of the
unfortunate vessel speak in high terms of the kindness they received
on board the man-of-war. We print a list of the survivors: Jacob
Trent, master, of Hull, England; Elias Goddedaal, mate, native of
Christiansand, Sweden; Ah Wing, cook, native of Sana, China; John
Brown, native of Glasgow, Scotland; John Hardy, native of London,
England. The _Flying Scud_ is ten years old, and this morning will be
sold as she stands, by order of Lloyd's agent, at public auction, for
the benefit of the underwriters. The auction will take place in the
Merchants' Exchange at ten o'clock.

_Further Particulars._--Later in the afternoon the _Occidental_
reporter found Lieutenant Sebright, first officer of H.B.M.S.
_Tempest_ at the Palace Hotel. The gallant officer was somewhat
pressed for time, but confirmed the account given by Captain Trent in
all particulars. He added that the _Flying Scud_ is in an excellent
berth, and, except in the highly improbable event of a heavy N.W.
gale, might last until next winter.

"You will never know anything of literature," said I, when Jim had
finished. "That is a good, honest, plain piece of work, and tells the
story clearly. I see only one mistake: the coo