A RESCUE IN MID-OCEAN.

t is a common belief at the present day that our sailors are no longer the same bold, kind-hearted fellows that they were before the introduction of steam and other modern improvements. From time to time, however, a brief account of some splendid act of heroic daring, performed on the high seas, finds its way into the newspapers, and proves that, after all, Jack is of the same race as the men who, in bygone days, won for England the proud title of "Mistress of the Seas."

Recently, while the Cunard steamer Parthia was crossing the Atlantic from America to England, her passengers had an opportunity of witnessing a genuine feat of derring-do of the old heroic kind. It was a Sunday afternoon, and for some hours the barometer had been steadily falling, a sure sign of a coming gale. Overhead the blue sky was dotted with white clouds, but away to the south and west the heavens were of a dull leaden colour.

About four o'clock, true to the indications it had given, the storm burst. The fury of the wind raised a tremendous sea, and after running for a time, it was judged prudent to bring the Parthia head on to the waves. All the passengers were ordered below lest they should be washed overboard, and the hatches were securely battened down to prevent the cabins being flooded. Every now and again the crew on deck were waist deep in water, as the steamer dipped her bows into the sea and took great surging waves on board.

For six hours the vessel lay-to, and during all that time the tempest raged with undiminished fury. The wind screamed and whistled mournfully through the rigging, and the mountainous waves dashed themselves with tremendous force against the sides of the ship, throwing the spray as high as the masthead At ten o'clock the gale moderated, and the steamer once more resumed her voyage. The night passed without further incident, and when the sun rose next morning out of the heaving waters it gave promise of a fair day.

Meanwhile a far different scene was being enacted on the angry ocean some miles away. A sailing ship was being tossed about like a plaything. One by one her sails were blown to ribbons, her planks sprung a-leak under the continued pounding of the waves, and as the vessel slowly settled down the crew gave themselves up for lost. As the water-logged hull tumbled about in the trough of the sea, they expected that she would go down every moment, but day broke and found them still afloat, looking for help in every direction and finding none. Assistance was, however, at hand.

All this time the Parthia had been steadily steaming on her homeward voyage. About nine o'clock in the morning the look-out man reported that a vessel was in sight. As the steamer approached, it became apparent to all on board that the ship was in distress. She lay low in the water, her rigging was all in a tangle, and upon the deck twenty-two wretched, pale-faced men could be counted, watching the steamer with wistful gaze. All these had to be saved, and every man on board the Parthia knew that this could only be done at the risk of the lives of those who went to their assistance, for a heavy sea was still running.

Few things are more perilous and difficult than lowering a boat during a storm in mid-ocean. The most seamen-like smartness may fail to save the frail fabric from being dashed to pieces against the iron side of the vessel, and even if the boat succeeds in getting away, the utmost skill is necessary to prevent her from being upset. Everyone of the Parthia's crew knew the danger, but not one of them shrank from the duty which faced them.

"Volunteers for the wreck!" shouted the captain, and in response to his summons eight men sprang forward and scrambled into the lifeboat. The third officer stepped into the stern, and took the rudder lines in his hands. Every man sat silent and ready while the boat swung from the davits. Calmly the order was given to lower, and the boat sank swiftly down to the water. As she rose on the crest of the next wave, the blocks were unhooked, and in another moment she was making for the wreck.