The Venerable was now a complete wreck, beating against the rocks, and
was expected to go to pieces at every surge; yet all this time was
she so near the shore that those on board were able to converse with
the people, whom the report of the guns had brought in great numbers
to the rocks. With much difficulty, they at last contrived to fling a
line on shore, which, being secured there, some of the crew attempted
to land themselves by it. The surf, however, broke with such violence
between them and the shore, although they were scarcely twenty yards
distant, that the poor fellows who made the attempt were either
drowned or dashed to pieces.

It was now past five o'clock on Sunday morning, the weather still
growing worse. The crew, with the exception of seventeen, had
succeeded in quitting the ship, and these nobly declared that they
would remain to share the fate of their officers. The situation of the
whole was indeed appalling, and sufficient to quail the boldest heart;
the sea breaking over them, the fore part of the ship under water, and
the rest expected momentarily to go to pieces. Under these
circumstances, the officers, feeling that they could be of no further
use on board, deemed it their duty to represent to the captain the
necessity of endeavouring to save their lives, they having one and all
resolved on sharing his fate.

This point being arranged, the hopes of life began to revive; but a
further difficulty presented itself, which seemed to render their
safety more problematical than ever. This was, who was to lead the
way. The pause had well nigh been fatal to them all. At length a
junior lieutenant, long known on board, and celebrated for his
courage, agreed to lead the way, the rest solemnly promising to