A LEAP FOR LIFE.

As the supervisor of inland revenue at Aberystwith, Mr. Miller, his nephew, and two professional gentlemen, geologists, were examining some strata of rocks in the cliffs between Aberystwith and Llanrhystid, they proceeded along a narrow ledge of projecting stone on the face of the cliff, about 120 feet above the level of the sea, which providentially happened to be at full flow. In passing round a projecting angle, "which for ages has frowned upon all below," the professors and the revenue officer had rounded the point, and the young man was about doing so, when the rock suddenly breaking under his feet, he was whirled round with his face toward the sea, and as he descended he seized with one hand the ledge beneath his uncle's feet, whilst he extended the other hand to him, and it was firmly clasped by the revenue officer, who held him suspended for full five minutes, during which time he with great difficulty maintained his position, there not being more than six inches to stand upon. At length a breathless pause ensued, whilst Mr. Miller gazed on a rugged projection of rock about ninety feet below them, and on which he concluded the unfortunate youth was inevitably doomed to be dashed. But the uncle (who calls himself "an awful coward,") at length said, with all the calmness imaginable, Tom, there is but one way for it; I'll save you, or we will both perish together!" and with a firm voice, he commanded the young man to loose his hold of the rock, which was mechanically obeyed, with a faint reply, "Yes, uncle." At this awful moment Mr. Miller horizontally sprang into the air, carrying the young man with him; and such was the force with which he leaped, that the shock caused them to perform several somersets over each other as they descended linked together. With the rapidity of a flash of lightning they disappeared beneath the foaming billows, having cleared the craggy ledge, which projected more than six feet from the perpendicular of the point over which the youth was suspended. To the delight of

their companions, who where momentarily horror-struck they rose above twenty yards apart, buffeting the heavy swells of the flowing and returning waves; at length they struck out for a rock that lay about seventy yards in the sea, on which they were seated, and from which they gave three hearty cheers. Their companions attempted to procure their rescue by obtaining a boat, but owing to the breach in the ledge, found it impossible, and had to proceed onward for more than three hours before they were able to extricate themselves. To their delight, the geologists. then found that their brave and dauntless companions had once more committed themselves to the deep, had swam to an accessible part of the cliff, and returned to Llanrhystid, where, with the exception of the loss of hats, the officer's boots (which he had taken off on first starting on the ledge), and a few slight cuts and bruises, they appeared not a whit the worse for their perilous adventure.— Weichman.

FOLLY OF NEGLECTING RELIGION.

"I MEAN to have religion before I die," said a young man to a pious friend who conversed with him on the subject of his soul's salvation. Like many others, he was unwilling to "scek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness," and vainly hoped that he should have time to do so in the future. Thus he lived a few brief

years, when he was suddenly called to the eternal world. His sickness was short, attended with severe pains and delirium. This state of body and mind utterly precluded that intended preparation of soul for heaven, which he confidently contemplated. Thus he gave up the ghost. But where is he? important question!

Reader, art thou, like the youth alluded to, living in the neglect of religion, and dreaming that there will be time enough for to prepare for heaven? If so, pause and consider that God, in his word, and by his Spirit and providence, calls upon you to-day to make this preparation. Therefore, "to-day if ye will hear his voice, harden not your heart."

There are many and weighty reasons why you should do this. First, it is your duty-God commands it. Second, it is for your personal happiness. Third, it will qualify you for more extensive usefulness. If you neglect religion now, you may never have an opportunity to seek it. The brittle thread of life may be severed in an instant, and you are lost, for ever lost! But should you live many years, you may not be able to obtain salvation, after having refused the present opportunity. God says: "My Spirit shall not always strive with men." He may say to you as he did to one anciently: "Ephraim is joined to his idols; let him alone." Dear reader, if God should say this of you, what could you do to obtain salvation? Are you a professor of religion, and have you idols in your heart? If so, you are also in danger. Oh, be warned, be entreated, by all the mercies of God, and in view of the eternal interest of your soul, to seek salvation now, to-day, with all your heart; and heaven, with its untold stores, shall be your rich, your everlasting reward.-Zion's Herald.

THE LITTLE HERO OF HARLEM.

Ar an early period in the history of Holland, a boy was born in Harlem, a town remarkable for its variety of fortune in war, but happily still more so for its manufactures and inventions in peace. His father was a sluicer—that is, one whose employment it was to open and shut the sluices, or large oak-gates, which, placed at certain regular distances, close the entrance of the canals, and secure Holland from the danger to which it seems exposed, of finding itself under water, rather than above it. When water is wanted, the sluicer raises the water more or less, as required, as a cock turns the cock of a fountain, and closes them again carefully at night, otherwise the water would flow into the canals, then overflow them, and inundate the whole country; so that even the children in Holland are fully aware of the importance of a punctual discharge of the

sluicer's duties. The boy was about eight years old, when one day he asked permission to take some cakes to a poor old blind man, who lived at the other side of the dyke. His father gave him leave, but charged him not to stay too late. The child promised, and set off on his little journey. The blind man thankfully partook of his young friend's cakes; and the boy, mindful of his father's orders, did not wait, as usual, to hear one of the old man's stories, but as soon as he had seen him eat one muffin, took leave of him to return home.

As he went along by the canals, then quite full-for it was in October, and the autumn rains had swelled the waters-the boy now stopped to pull the little blue flowers which his mother loved so well, and, in childish gaiety, hummed some merry song. The road gradually became more solitary, and soon neither the joyous shouts of the villager, returning to his cottage home, nor the rough voice of the carter, grumbling at his lazy horses, was any longer to be heard. The little fellow now perceived that the blue of the flowers in his hand was scarcely distinguishable from the green of the surrounding herbage, and he looked up in some dismay. The night was falling; not, however, a dark, wintry night, but one of those beautiful, clear, moonlight nights, in which every object is perceptible, though not as distinctly as by day. The child thought of his father, of his injunction, and was preparing to quit the ravine, in which he was almost buried, and to regain the beach, when suddenly a slight noise, like the trickling of water upon pebbles, attracted his attention. He was near one of the large sluices, and he now carefully examines it, and soon discovers a hole in the wood, through which the water was flowing. With the instant perception which every child in Holland would have, the boy saw that the water must soon enlarge the hole through which it was now dropping, and that utter and general ruin would be the consequence of the inundation which must follow. To see-to throw away the flowers-to climb from stone to stone till he reached the hole, and to put his finger into it, was the work of a moment, and, to

his delight, he finds that he has succeeded in stopping the flow of the water.

This was all very well for a little while, and the child thought only of the success of his device. But the night was closing in, and with the night came the cold. The little boy looked round in vain; no one came. He shouted -he called loudly-no one answered. He resolved to stay there all night; but, alas! the cold was biting, and the poor finger began to feel benumbed, and the numbness soon extended to the hand, and hence throughout the whole arm. The pain became still greater, still harder to bear, but still the boy moved not. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he thought of his father, of his mother, of his little bed, where he might now be sleeping soundly; but still the little fellow stirred not, for he knew that did he but remove the small slender finger which he had opposed to the escape of the water, not only would he himself be drowned, but his father, his brothers, his neighbours nay, the whole village. We know not what faltering of purpose, what momentary failures of courage, there might have been during that long terrible night; but certain it is, that at daybreak he was found in the same painful position by a clergyman returning from attendance on a death-bed, who, as he advanced, thought he heard groans, and, bending over the dyke, discovered a child seated on a stone, writhing with pain, and with pale face and tearful

eyes.

"In the name of wonder, boy," he exclaimed, "what are you doing there?"

"I am hindering the water from running out," was the answer, in perfect simplicity, of the child, who, during that whole night had been evincing such heroic fortitude and undaunted courage.

The Muse of History, too often blind to (true) glory, has handed down to posterity many a warrior, the destroyer of his fellow-men-she has left us in ignorance of the name of this real little hero of Harlem.