ND now the hour drew on apace when the bells from the old church-tower would ring forth their joyous peal upon the frosty night to welcome the Anniversary of the Saviour's birth. The ships lay still and deserted at their anchors, and from seamen's firesides ashore rose the sound of joyous

voices as they ate and drank the good things of the season, and thanked God they were together at the happy time; and the great fire at the Ship and Compasses' threw up its glare upon the red curtains of the windows, and cast upon them the shadows of the merry, boisterous crew, laughing, dancing, and singing within. And the lights sparkled round the seductive glories of the shops, and the boys spent their ha'pence and gnawed from an orange in one hand and a tough lump of cake in the other, and stamped their cold feet upon the hard ground, and were altogether as happy as hardy boys could be who never knew want, and were able to appreciate the delights of such a holiday.

6

And at last they had all gone home, and the shops were shut up, and the oil-lamps at the corners flared and flickered in a rising wind, and a great stillness had fallen, which the party at the Ship and Compasses,' and an occasional laugh from a distant fireside, only served to intensify; and the snow came down fast, and covered the earth with a newer mantle, and one by one the Christmas logs grew dim and cold, and the happy circles of faces had kissed each other, said Merry Christmas-God bless you,' and gone to bed; and first one, and then another, solemnly falling upon the keen air, the bells sounded preparatory to the joyous one, two, three, four, five, six,' which would presently wake such inhabitants as had fallen into their first sleep, and tell them Christmas was here.

The Walters family had spent an indifferent evening, and should have gone early to bed on that account, but, strangely, they chose to be among the last to seek their couches, and it was

within half an hour of midnight when, kneeling down among his children, the Captain offered to God his gratitude for the mercies enjoyed, and, in broken tones, prayed for the safety of those they had lost.

Hark! Not to the bells! no! To some other sounds, faint at first, but growing distinct, and coming nearer and nearer !

Voices shouting, cheering—a wild, cxuberant cheering and coming rapidly nearer.

The Captain's prayer was hushed, and his good wife, she knows not why, has drawn herself to his side, and, still kneeling, lays her head upon his shoulder, with her hand pressed firmly over her wildly throbbing heart. The shouting comes nearer, and the two children utter a frightened sob, and rising from their knees, run to their father's side.

Nearer the shouting. Oh, how they cheer! "Three more for the lads-three more for old Sam-three for the Cap'en-hip, hurrah!!!'

Mother, Mother, my dear soul, don't be so upset! It mayn't be-it mayn't be

My boys

she almost shrieked, springing to her feet. She ran to the door, unbolted it; and then, as it flew open, from pressure of hands from without, fell into the arms of her son Joe.

Harry occupied a shoulder each of two men who walked side by side with him; and a hundred pairs of eyes, spite of darkness, time, sunburn, and scars, had recognised in these two, Sam Crawley and the maintop-man, Jenkins.

Joy is hard to paint, and I cannot describe it. Joe had come home from a Spanish prison, and without his bit of gold lace; but grown a foot, his father said, if he had grown an inch. It is matter of history that, in return for the humane and generous treatment by Lord Collingwood of the prisoners taken at Trafalgar, the Governor-General of Andalusia opened his grim prisoners and set his English captives free.

Joe Walters died, not so many years ago, a retired Commander, with the rank of Captain in Her Majesty's Navy. Of his career as seaman, officer, and beloved Commander, I may again write for the readers of Sunday.

GEORGE HEWETT.

ATHER! Father!' urged the lad; 'step a

very eyes! See, it's up to your waist now!'

Hush, lad! Thy father could never hold up his head again if he let them lads drown for want of a light to show 'em the way, and thou'rt a poor son of mine to ask it. Down on thy knees, lad, and pray the Lord that the light may be the means of saving others, even if thy father's dead hand holds it aloft at last.'

'Then I'll drown with thee, Father,' and springing down the boy waded into the water and stood by his brave father's side.

'Back, sonny! back to thee place!' commanded Ezra, sternly. God makes no call for thy life. Back! and be a good son to thee mother if I should be allowed to see home no more. God be praised! here's one!'

At this moment, wading through the water, and drawing himself along by projections of rock, the first man rescued by the light emerged from the darkness.

There's six or seven more seen the light, Ezra,' said this man in a weak voice; but I dunno if they can bear up,-the water runs at you out of the turnings like a mill-race; I was took off my legs twice. Be you holding on there, Ez, to save the lot? You'll be drownded, man!' "The Lord knows best, mate. Did you see

nothing of my two poor lads?' 'Nothing!'

At this juncture a second man, and presently a third, came slowly out of the darkness into the rays of the lamp. Each as he marked his deliverer said, 'God bless thee, Ezra!' and with last atoms of strength climbed to a place of safety; but they had had a bitter struggle for life, and while they invoked blessings on the man who was drowning before their eyes in furtherance of his glorious work, none offered to take his place.

The water had risen to Collins' armpits by this time, and there was deep silence in the mine; nothing in the semblance of human cry floated any longer in harmony with the bubbling tide through the dark galleries; and the rescued men on the ledge whispered together that the

waters would 'snuff Ezra's candle out directly,' and there was no longer any life to save.

'Ezra, Ezra, my mate!' said one, will thee rashly throw thy life away? Come up here, man; thee ca'st save no more. Listen; there's ne'er a voice to hear, nor have been this ten minutes past.'

'Aye, listen; but there is a cry, faint and far off; a pitiful, lonely, agonized cry of 'Father, Father, Father!' at the sound of which Ezra Collins, who had stood like a rock hitherto, raised his arms aloft with the bitter cry, 'Merciful Lord, help me to save my child!' and throwing down the lamp into the whirling waters struck out swimming through the darkness towards his drowning boy's voice.

There is little more to tell. When, after much delay, the 'kibble' was lowered by temporary machinery from the pit's mouth, the lights of the rescuing party shone upon a strange scene, and their ears listened to a strange story. Three men and a boy, sole survivors of close upon thirty who had gone into the mine hale and hearty that morning, attributed their safety to the noble act of Ezra Collins, who had afterwards gone to search for one of his boys whose cry for help they had all heard.

The kibble nearly touched the water as they got into it, or were rather lifted in to be taken to the surface, and as it began to rise one of the survivors, snatching a lamp, flashed it over the tide.

'There he is!' cried two or three voices in a breath.

And there he really was,-Ezra Collins, with his boy clasped to his cold breast. Both dead: their bodies rising and falling gently upon the flood that had drowned them and so many more beside.

Surely that life is a precious life; so bravely, so unselfishly rendered up to the keeping of Him who gave it? And surely, in the day when the Lord rendereth unto every man according to his work, shall Ezra Collins stand in the ranks of that noble army who praise their Lord, wearing the martyr's crown!

H. G.