h in this book of fame.

A few years since, a young man, being ambitious to place his name above
all others, was very near losing his life in the attempt. After much
fatigue he climbed up as high as possible, but found that the person who
had before occupied his place was taller than himself, and consequently
had placed his name above his reach. But he was not thus to be
discouraged. He opened a large jack-knife, and, in the soft limestone,
began to cut places for his hands and feet. With much patience and
industry he worked his way upwards, and succeeded in carving his name
higher than the most ambitious had done before him. He could now
triumph, but his triumph was short; for he was placed in such a
situation that it was impossible to descend, unless he fell upon the
ragged rocks beneath him. There was no house near, from whence his
companions could get assistance. He could not long remain in that
condition, and, what was worse, his friends were too much frightened to
do anything for his relief. They looked upon him as already dead,
expecting every moment to see him precipitated upon the rocks below and
dashed to pieces. Not so with himself. He determined to ascend.
Accordingly he plies the rock with his knife, cutting places for his
hands and feet, and gradually ascended with incredible labour. He exerts
every muscle. His life was at stake, and all the terrors of death rose
before him. He dared not look downwards, lest his head should become
dizzy; and perhaps on this circumstance his life depended. His
companions stood at the top of the rock, exhorting and encouraging him.
His strength was almost exhausted; but a bare possibility of saving his
life still remained; and hope, the last friend of the distressed, had
not yet forsaken him. His course upwards was rather oblique than
perpendicular. His most critical moment had now arrived. He had ascended
considerably more than two hundred feet, and had still further to rise,
when he felt himself fast growing weak. He thought of his friends, and
all his earthly joys, and he could not leave them. He thought of the
grave, and dared not meet it. He now made his last effort and succeeded.
He had cut his way not far from two hundred and fifty feet from the
water, in a course almost perpendicular; and in a little less than two
hours, his anxious companions reached him a pole from the top, and drew
him up. They received him with shouts of joy, but he himself was
completely exhaust