Gothard, into a valley on the other side. They were near a village, when a great avalanche of snow shot down from the summit of that enormous mountain, and buried them both. A little dog, belonging to the Colonel, which followed behind them, escaped this sad fate. When the little animal saw its master all at once disappear, it began to howl most piteously, and scratch away at the snow as fast as it could. But its poor little paws could do very little to lessen such a great heap of snow. As soon as it saw that all its trouble was in vain, it ran back to the convent on the mountain, in which its master had passed the previous night. Here it barked with strange friendliness at the monks, drew them by their clothes, ran to the door, came back again, looked towards the door, and barked again, howled and scratched, and in this way made the monks understand its urgent desire that they should go with it. The animal continued thus entreating them a whole day and a whole night. At last the next morning, the monks became more attentive to the dog's supplications and went with him. He led them to the place where the new snow lay. Then he scratched, barked at the monks, and wagged his tail, quietly waiting for their help. Now they guessed what the animal desired. They brought the necessary tools, and after a tedious amount of work, they found the two buried men after they had passed thirty-six hours beneath the snow. They were still living, but had, as may readily be imagined, suffered unspeakable anxiety. They had constantly heard during this time the barking and scratching of the dog. In the church of St. Oswald at Zug, where

this lord of Brandenburgh is buried, his carved tomb is to be seen, and the wise and faithful dog is lying at his feet.

How sad the din and strife that rise

When angry thoughts breed angry cries!
But quiet song and gentle word,
Should only from our lips be heard.
We'll remember all the week,

Softly sing, and gently speak.

We know when Christ our Lord was young,
No angry word e'er crossed His tongue;
And when He grew no more a child,
His voice was loving, soft, and mild.
So should we be mild and meek;
Softly sing, and gently speak

But we have other duties too;
We must not only speak, but do;
And gentle hands and quiet feet,
For little children's ways are meet.
We should practise what we know,
Softly step, and gently go.

Our Saviour's ways thus best we keep,
For lovingly He led His sheep,
And when His foes were raging by
He gently gave Himself to die.

We should here His likeness show

Softly speak, and gently go.

The country in which we live is called England, that is to say, the land of the English. But it was not always called England, because there were not always Englishmen living in it. The old name of the island was Britain. And we still call the whole island in which we live Great Britain, of which England is the southern part and Scotland the northern. We call it Great Britain, because there was another country also called Britain, namely, the north-western corner of Gaul (that is France); but this last we now generally call Brittany. The two names, however, are really the same, and both were called in Latin by the same name.

In the old days then, when the land was called only Britain, Englishmen had not yet begun to live in it. Our forefathers then lived in other lands, and had not yet come into the land where we now live; but there was an England even then, namely, the land in which Englishmen then lived. If you look in a map of Denmark or of Northern Germany, you will see on the Baltic Sea a little land called Angeln; that is the same as England. I do not mean that all our forefathers came out of that one little land of Angeln ; but they all came from that part of the world, from the lands near the mouth of the Elbe, and that one little land has kept the English name to this day.

It is a long time, 1400 years and more, since our forefathers began to come from their old land by the mouth of the Elbe, and to live in the Isle of Britain. And when they came here, they did not come into a land where no men were dwelling, so that they could sit down and live in it without any trouble. They found a land in which men were already living, and they had to fight against the men whom they found in the land, and to take their land from them. The men whom our forefathers found in the Isle of Britain, were not men of their own nation or their own speech. They were the men who had lived in the land for many ages, and they were called by the same name as the land itself, for they were called the Britons. But our forefathers called them by another name, for they spoke a tongue which our forefathers did not understand, and in Old-English those who spoke a tongue which could not be understood were called Welsh. So our forefathers called

D

the men whom they found in the land the Welsh. And the children of those men, the children of the men who lived in the Isle of Britain before our forefathers came into it, we call the Welsh to this very day.

The different nations of the world have not always lived in the same countries in which they live now. Many of them have moved about a great deal, and have gone into new lands, as Englishmen now often go and live in Canada, or Australia. Very often one nation has gone and conquered the people of another country; that is, it has overcome them in battle, and perhaps driven them quite out of their land; or perhaps it has only made them subject to the conquering nation or to its king; or perhaps only part of a nation has done this, while another part has stayed in its old land. Thus it often happens that we find people in quite different parts of the world speaking the same languages, or languages nearly the same, while people who live close together speak languages which are quite different. This is nowhere plainer than in this Isle of Britain. As I said, we came into this island from another land, and we found other men living here, and the children of those men whom we found here, live in our island to this day. So you will find, and, if you think a moment, you will see that it is not wonderful that it is so, that the other languages which are spoken in Britain are quite different from English, while languages which are much more like English are spoken much further off.

There are now three languages spoken in the British Islands,-our own tongue and two others.