An amusing episode occurred with regard to a would-be suicide in the early part of one winter. A strong, athletic fellow, who had been a teacher of swimming at one of the London public baths, but who had lost position, had become homeless, and was quite on the down-grade. Half drunk, he found himself on the banks of the Lea, where the water was deep and the tide strong. Suddenly he called out, "I'll drown myself!" and into the water he went. The vagabond could not have drowned had he wished, for he was as much at home in the water as a rat. It was a moonlight night, and a party of men from Hoxton had come for a walk and a drink. One was a little fellow, well known in the boxing-ring. He also could swim a little, but not much. He heard the cry and the splash, and saw the body of the man lying still on the water. In he went, swam to the body, and took hold of it. Suddenly there was a great commotion, for the little man had received a violent blow in the face from the supposed suicide. A fight ensued, but the swimmer held a great advantage over the boxer. A boat arrived on the scene, and both were brought ashore exhausted. The swimmer recovered first, and was for making off, but was detained by the friends of the boxer, who, being recovered, walked promptly up to the big man and proposed a fight to the finish. This was accepted, but the little man was now in his element, and the big man soon had reason to know it. After a severe handling, he was given into custody for attempted suicide and assault, and appeared next day in the police-court, with cuts and bruises all over his face. The charge of attempted suicide was dismissed, but the magistrate fined him twenty shillings for assault. "Look at my face." "Yes," said the magistrate; "you deserve all that, and a month beside." I give these examples of manly pluck to show that, in spite of all the demoralizing influence of slum life, and in spite of all the decay of manhood that must ensue from the terrible conditions that prevail, physical courage still exists among those born and bred in the slums, under the worst conditions of London life. MORE SLUM HEROES. But higher kinds of courage are also manifested. Who can excel the people of our slums in true heroism? None! If I want to find someone that satisfies my ideal of what a hero should be, down into the Inferno of the slums I go to seek him or her. It is no difficult search; they are to hand, and I know where to light on them. The faces of my heroes may be old and wrinkled, their arms may be skinny, and their bodies enfeebled; they may be racked with perpetual pain, and live in dire but reticent poverty; they may be working endless hours for three halfpence per hour, or lie waiting and hoping for death; they may be male or they may be female, for heroes are of no sex; but for examples of high moral courage--a courage that bids them suffer and be strong--come with me to the slums of London and see.