With a hurrying step on the wilds afar,

And a pale and troubled mien.

But the sons of the land which the freeman tills
Went back from the battle toil

To their cabin homes 'midst the deep green hills,
All burdened with royal spoil.

There were songs and festal fires
On the soaring Alps that night,
When children sprung to greet their sires
From the wild Morgarten fight.

CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF EVENTS IN THE EARLY HISTORY OF SWITZERLAND.

THE CANTONS OF SWITZERLAND WITH DATES OF

ENTRANCE INTO THE SWISS FEDERATION.

The numbers affixed to each canton show the order in which they stand according to rank in the Swiss Confederation of 1815. Many changes have taken place in the constitution of Switzerland and the groupings of the cantons in a league for the purpose of mutual protection since the formation of the first confederation in 1307, and civil wars and commotions have frequently been caused by religious disputes. Sometimes one part of the country has been in subjection to another, as the Pays de Vaud, which was long annexed to Berne. Again, Neufchatel has for a great many centuries been considered Swiss territory, but the sovereigns of Prussia have claimed it since 1702, when it passed into the hands of Frederick I., by inheritance from William III. of England, who was his uncle and bore the title of Prince of Neufchatel, and it was not until 1857, that the Prussian kings were induced to give up substantial claim to the land, retaining the title derived from it.

GOD ABOVE AND BEFORE ALL.

FRANCIS QUARLES.

This poet, whose writings, in their quaint conceits and extravagances as well as in depth of religious feeling, bear a striking resemblance to the poems of Crashaw and George Herbert, was born in Essex, in 1592, and for a short time bore the office of cup-bearer at the Court of Queen Elizabeth, and was subsequently secretary to Archbishop Usher. His poems might have been written by a Puritan, as far as strictness of life and expression of moral sentiment are concerned, but he was loyal to Charles I., and so fell under the ban of Cromwell and his supporters. He died in 1644. His best-known work is the "Divine Emblems," consisting of a series of moral and religious poems illustrated by coarse but curious engravings.

[The following poem is a quaint but beautiful homily on the value of every part of creation as the work of God, sanctified by His presence, and the comparative worthlessness of the greatest of God's blessings if not accepted and enjoyed as the gifts of the great Giver of all good things. Even heaven, says the poet, would not be an object of desire to him, if God were not there. To enjoy life itself, the relations of life in their variety, and the creatures created and given to us for our use, how necessary is it to pause before word and deed, and consider gravely how the saying of the one or the doing of the other is compatible with obedience to God's wish and will and written word. Could we do this, we should have less regret for the past and more settled peace in times present and to come, and know the happiness that must be the lot of all who by precept and practice show that they have indeed found that God is above and before all.]

G

I LOVE and have some cause to love—the earth;
She is my Maker's creature; therefore good:
She is my mother, for she gave me birth;'
She is my tender nurse-she gives me food;
But what's a creature, Lord, compared with thee?
Or what's my mother, or my nurse to me?

I love the air,2 her dainty sweets refresh
My drooping soul, and to new sweets invite me;
Her shrill-mouthed quire sustains me with their flesh,
And with their polyphonian3 notes delight me :
But what's the air, or all the sweets that she
Can bless my soul withal, compared to thee?

I love the sea: she is my fellow-creature,
My careful purveyor;4 she provides me store;
She walls me round,5 she makes my diet greater;
She wafts my treasure from a foreign shore:

But, Lord of oceans, when compared with thee,
What is the ocean, or her wealth to me?

To heaven's high city' I direct my journey,
Whose spangled suburbs entertain mine eye;
Mine eye, by contemplation's great attorney,"
Transcends the crystal pavement of the sky:

Inasmuch as all are the children of Adam, who was formed of the dust of the earth (see Genesis i.). The origin of man is betokened by the Hebrew name Adam, which means "red earth."

2 Compare the following couplet by the present Archbishop of Dublin, Richard Chenevix Trench:

All noblest things are yet the commonest: every place
Hath light and air and God's abounding grace.

3 Pol-y-pho-ni-an, having great variety of sound. From the Greek modus (pol-use), much, and own (fo-ne), a voice.

4 Pur-vey-or, one who provides anything beforehand for any need or necessity. From the French pourvoir, to provide.

5 Speaking of the sea, as an Englishman, Great Britain being an island. 6 Compare the description of the New Jerusalem given in the Revelation of St. John the Divine, ch. xxi.

7 At-tor-ney, one who acts in the place of another. From the French tourner, to turn, the substitute turning to the execution of the business for his employer. The eye by aid of thought and fancy seems to see things which are not visible; thus it is when we speak of "seeing by faith." Abraham by faith saw far into futurity, for Our Saviour told the Jews, "Your father Abraham rejoiced to see my day: he saw it, and was glad.”

But what is heaven, great God, compared to thee?
Without thy presence heaven 's no heaven to me.

Without thy presence earth gives no refection;
Without thy presence sea affords no treasure;
Without thy presence air 's a rank infection;
Without thy presence heaven itself 's no pleasure:
If not possessed, if not enjoyed in thee,

What 's earth, or sea, or air, or heaven to me?

The highest honours that the world can boast
Are subjects far too low for my desire;
The brightest beams of glory are at most
But dying sparkles of thy living fire :

The loudest flames that earth can kindle, be
But nightly glow-worms if compared to thee.

Without thy presence wealth is bags of cares ;
Wisdom but folly; joy disquiet-sadness:
Friendship is treason, and delights are snares;
Pleasures but pain, and mirth but pleasing madness:
Without thee, Lord, things be not what they be,
Nor have they being when compared with thee.
In having all things, and not thee, what have I ?
Not having thee, what have my labours got?
Let me enjoy but thee, what further crave I ?
And having thee alone, what have I not?

I wish nor sea nor land; nor would I be
Possessed of heaven, heaven unpossessed of thee.

KILLED AT THE FORD.

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW,

The first of American poets, the author of one of the best of the metrical versions in English of the Italian poet Dante, and the writer of some prose works, of which the most popular was Hyperion," was born at Portland, a seaport of Maine, U.S., in 1807. After travelling in Europe

at the termination of his University career, he returned to America, and became professor of modern languages at Bowdoin College, Brunswick, where he had graduated. This post he held till 1835, when he accepted a similar post at Harvard College. In 1869 he again visited Europe, and received the honorary degree of Doctor of Civil Law (D.C.L.) at the University of Oxford. His best poems of any length are "Evange line" and the "Song of Hiawatha ;" his most valuable contribution to our stock of foreign authors in an English dress, his translation of Dante's "Divine Comedy."

[The following poem is based on an incident of the great Civil War between the Northern and Southern States of America in 1861-5. Some pickets have been posted at night round a position occupied by Union troops, and the patrol goes the rounds to see that all are on the alert. One of the troopers, a favourite with his comrades, and perchance the only son of a widowed mother, is shot by a Confederate scout, and falls from his saddle dead, with a bullet through his heart. By a beautiful exercise of poetic fancy, the writer seems to see the poor lad's mother fall as if stricken by the same bullet, killed by a consciousness that she had lost all she loved best on earth, imparted by some mysterious agency that we cannot comprehend, try how we may -an agency which appears wondrously marvellous when we consider the finite power of man, but no marvel at all when we remember that with God all things are possible."]

HE is dead, the beautiful youth,

The heart of honour, the tongue of truth,
He, the life and light of us all,

Whose voice was blithe as a bugle call,

Whom all eyes followed with one consent,

The cheer of whose laugh, and whose pleasant word,
Hushed all murmurs of discontent.

Only last night, as we rode along
Down the dark of the mountain gap
To visit the picket 1-guard at the ford,
Little dreaming of any mishap,

He was humming the words of some old song :—

1 Pick-et, an outpost, or small guard of out-lying sentinels. In its original sense it means a stake or peg driven into the ground for the purpose of securing a horse by the bridle or halter. From the French piquer, to pierce. The horse cannot move away, and the guard, because the men dare not leave their post, seems tied to the spot much after the same fashion.