The sea had risen to such a height that no boat could approach the sufferers; and their friends on shore were unable to reach them with the ropes and bladders thrown out for their rescue. The writers of this little narrative, being well acquainted with and highly valuing some of these poor men, visited the bereaved widows and their children two or three days after the catastrophe, and were so much instructed and interested in the recital which they gave, and by their earnest endeavours to recognise the hand of the Most High in this heavy calamity, that they are induced to put a few of the particulars before the public eye, believing that these may be the means, under the Divine blessing, of benefiting survivors, more especially those who are engaged in like occupations, or who are in any way exposed to the dangers of the sea. George Lisle, jun., was one of the best men in the village, modest and gentle in his demeanour, but foremost in every good work; a main support of the Sabbath-school; one of the leaders of the Temperance reform; a man with an eye and a heart ever open to the temporal and spiritual necessities of his neighbours, and administering to their need as far as lay in his power. He was often deeply distressed at the wickedness around him-at the intemperance, the swearing, and the neglect of sacred things; and his prayers and labours were incessant, that the hearts of his neighbours might be turned from their evil ways, and that they might be led to the cross of Christ. Often, when he was out at sea, and his lines were cast, would he sit at midnight and muse like the fishermen of old upon the wonders of redeeming love, fervently praying not only that himself and all dear to him might be truly conformed to the image of their Saviour, but also that all might repent, and turn from their evil ways and live. About a week before his death, he attended a meeting at Monkseaton, a neighbouring village, in which, speaking of his own Christian experience, he made use of the following simile: -When a pilot, on the stormy deep, has charge of a vessel, running for the harbour, with what anxiety his every movement is watched by those on board-how attentive are they to his call-every eye beaming with hope and joy, in the prospect of meeting friends and reaching their happy home! Under the guidance of Jesus, the good pilot, such, he said, was the situation of his own soul- 4 Hard toiling to make the blest shore, And sorrow and sin are no more." Upon entering the cottage of this excellent man, the wail of distress was most touching. His beloved wife was left with five young children. She wrung her hands in anguish of spirit; for he was then lying a corpse, and the intensity of her grief had been increased by her not only having been a spectator of his dying struggles, but also having witnessed the disaster that deprived her of a father-in-law, a brother, and two uncles. The sad scene seemed ever before her. After becoming more composed, she related many interesting particulars of the solemn event. They rose early, she said, on the fatal morning, and had breakfast about six o'clock. She afterwards went on the beach, to gather up some small coals that had been washed on shore, and gathered three kraels full. She was carrying her basket up the bank, when her husband saw her, and ran to her assistance, and then said he would go and see about the boat, as some of the men were talking of going to pilot some vessels in the offing. She begged him not to go if the sea were too high. He replied, "No, he did not mean to," but came back and said the morning was beautiful, and that they had determined to go; and he asked for a neck-handkerchief, which she tied round his neck, and accompanied him to the gate. At parting, he turned round and smiled. She then went into her cottage, and the family were about to partake of some coffee, when suddenly they heard a shriek from the shore, and ran out upon the cliff on which their house stands. From thence they discovered a boat in great danger. Mary ran to the beach, and along the rocks, and there beheld her husband and another man struggling in the water, and drifting out to sea. George Lisle, jun., had lashed himself to the mast of the boat, and for a time was floating in still water. The whole village was in commotion at this time, and the people chiefly on the shore. were making a great effort to get out the boats, and a coble was placed on a cart, to expedite its passage over the sands; but the cart was overturned, and, "O then," poor Mary exclaimed, "it was too late-he got among the broken waves.' They threw some lines to him, floated with bladders; but he could not reach them. He waved one hand and then the They other; but at last his strength failed him, and he bowed his head and died. The poor widow said the people held her back, or she would have thrown herself into the sea to try to save him. When the boats were launched, they could not get near the spot, on account of the broken waves. This sad history was related with deep emotion, and many outbursts of most tender sorrow. "Had the Lord not seen meet to support me," she said, "I should have lost my senses -I should have gone distracted. Our hearts were locked together. As long as we were together, all was right. We have had our ups and downs, like other people; but we have never known what it was to want a meal. I never told him when the purse was light, for fear he would go to sea when there was danger. I always made the most of what we had, and we were always contented. O, if I had my jewel again, I could live on bread and water. He was always kindalways so good and true to me; but his appointed time was come, and they could not save him." When she became more calm and composed, she related several interesting little circumstances, among which was the following:-About two weeks before her husband's death, as they were sitting together, he said to her, "Mary, do you love your Saviour better than you love me and the children ?" She answered, "I do love my Saviour very much; but how can I love him, whom I have never seen, so well as I love you, whom I embrace daily?" He replied, "Oh, but Mary, this should not be. I love my Saviour better than all, and why cannot you?" She also related that he went to a prayer-meeting the evening before the awful day. When he came home, he looked thoughtful; but she said to him, as usual, *What will you have for your supper ?" "O Mary," he replied, "I think I cannot take any to-night." "What is the matter?" she said; "you look dull." "O no, Mary; but we have had such a glorious meeting. It was in the room where we lived when we first married, and where we lost the dear infant; and that came into my mind; and O how earnestly I prayed!" All the neighbours who spoke of this meeting seemed to have been impressed with George Lisle's fervent manner; they said that he dwelt particularly on death, and that his soul seemed poured forth in very earnest supplication. One of them remarked that he twice repeated, "Lord, if it be thy will to call us suddenly hence, through thy mercy, we are ready." Previous to this meeting, his wife observed that he took a candle and went into the other room. Thinking he stayed long, she went in, and found him on his knees, in prayer. In allusion to this circumstance, one of his companions afterwards remarked: "No wonder, we found him in such a state of mind at the meeting. Surely the words of his Divine Master must be applied to him: 'Blessed is that man whom his Lord, when he cometh, shall find watching."" Mary Lisle also related some very striking circumstances connected with the last Sabbath her husband spent on earth. He prevailed on his whole family to go to chapel in the afternoon-father, mother, and sisters, all but one, who was left in charge of his aged grandmother and the very young children. The evening text was from Prov. xxi. 1st verse: -"Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth." There was also a prominent reference to the text, Job xiv. 1 and 2:-"Man that is born of a woman is of few days and full of trouble. He cometh forth as a flower, and is cut down: he fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not." The hymn that was sung was also strikingly appropriate, commencing: "How short is life! how sure is death! Our days, alas! how few! This mortal life is but a breath; 'Tis like the morning dew." &c. A few interesting particulars may also be given respecting George Lisle, sen. He was a noble-looking man-the very picture of a fine old pilot-brave, and venturesome almost to a fault, and liking to ride the waves for the very love of his profession. In early life he was impressed on board a man-of-war, and remained in this service a considerable time. He became addicted to intemperance; and for many years after he settled on shore, he gave himself up to this vice. In 1838, he was induced to sign the temperance pledge, and was one of the first converts to that cause in Cullercoats. The change thus produced in his character was most striking, to which his family bore testimony in their increased happiness, his aged mother-in-law once remarking, "Our home is now like Heaven upon earth.” On one occasion, his life was placed in great jeopardy from his love of strong drink. He had been piloting a vessel into Shields, and was returning home in a coble, in company with his son George and one or two others, all being intoxicated except George. The boat was upset, and the whole were precipitated into the water. His son was the means of his rescue from a watery grave on this occasion. He bore up his father from sinking, and finally succeeded in drawing them all into the boat. In subsequent years, George Lisle has been known often to allude to this event as a providential deliverance, and, with much solemnity of feeling, to contrast the state of mind in which he then was, with that which he was afterwards favoured to attain; and humble thankfulness seemed to be the covering of his spirit in the remembrance of such mercy. He had at times to mourn over seasons of unwatchfulness, and deep was his humiliation when made conscious that he had yielded to the tempter; but of him it may with truth be observed, "that having been forgiven much, he loved much;" and he was enabled to lay hold on the hope set before him, and to fly to the "fountain opened for sin, and for uncleanness." The fruits of a living faith were also to be seen in him; and as opportunity presented, he gladly co-operated with some pious men of the village in establishing a Sabbath-school, and in the promotion of other benevolent objects. The Temperance cause especially claimed his warmest regard and assistance. Gratitude for the benefits it had been the means of conferring on himself and family, led him to give its advocates his cheerful and earnest support. He united with them in seeking to bring in others of the neighbourhood to attend the meetings, and to sign the pledge, and thus to partake of the same good fruits of which he had himself so largely tasted. His house and his heart were open to the reception of strangers, and he took great delight in Christian communion. He attended the little chapel diligently, and encouraged his family and neighbours to do the same. On the last occasion, he pointed out the following hymn to his daughter, and requested her to unite with him in singing it, which, in connection with the event which was so soon to follow, appears strikingly appropriate. "Jesus, lover of my soul, Let me to thy bosom fly; Safe into the haven guide: |