But its time came; in that cursèd breach,

By Heaven! the French fought well, But on through blood and fire we went;

In yells and shrieks it fell.

I swear it warms my blood again,

Although my hair is grey,
To think of how we beat Marmont

On Salamanca's day;
And 'twas a sight to see, my friends,

When our great captain, mid
The rescued city's tears and shouts,

Rode into freed Madrid.

Somehow, at Burgos we were checked;

At times the greatest are;
One failure he could well afford;

'Twas there I got this scar.
A winter more, and then for France

We marched; he knew it well, And, rising in his stirrups, cried,

"To Portugal, farewell.” For France! for France ! but hold, good sirs,

King Joseph stopped us here;
Well, red Vittoria swept our path,

And left the roadway clear.
And, long before November passed,

We rolled back Soult's advance;
We poured through St. Sebastian's breach,

And trod the soil of France.

We won Toulouse, and, winning that,

We heard that all was won;
Seven weary years of war were gone;

Our work and his was done.
We little thought he yet would meet

A greater than he'd met;
We never dreamed he had to win

His sternest victory yet.

But so it was; a year passed by,

And, passing, proved it true;
And I was with him once again

At far-famed Waterloo.
And I-I heard his “ At them, men !”

When the Old Guard seemed to yield;
I shared in that last charge that swept

The French from his last field.
And so they say that he was one,

Not made for love but fear-
A cold, stern man, who stood alone :

All this I smile to hear.
Ask those that fought through that great war,

Bled, conquered, by his side,
And who'll not name his name with love,

And speak of him with pride!
I name his name to honour it;

In glory let him rest;
More than all other things I prize

This medal at my breast.
Why, friends ? Because it tells that I

Some honour bore away,
With him whom, with a people's grief,

St. Paul's received thau day.
Oh, well may England honour him!

Till all earth's days are done,
The world knows well the deeds he did-

The deeds of Wellington.

HOW MOUNTAINS ARE MADE.

WILLIAM LEIGHTON JORDAN. move-ments [L. moveo, to move], motions, changes of position. ex-ten-sive [L. ex, out; tendo, to stretch], large, occupying a great deal of space. for-ma-tion (L. forma, shape], production; the act or man. ner of making. rude (L. rudis, unskilled], rough, rugged. In examining the outer crust of the earth, endeavouring to discover signs of movement, and the nature and causes of the movements which take place, suppose that, after traversing the mountains and plains of Europe, you at length set off to look at the most extensive of all mountain ridges, which is that which extends almost from pole to pole along the western coasts of North and South America.

You traverse the pampas, where the land is for the most part slightly undulated, so that in riding over it the horizon is constantly changing, and the eye is ever on the alert as objects appear or vanish in the distance. After passing San Luiz, you traverse a series of undulations, which give to the country the appearance of a succession of huge ocean rollers pressing forward in parallel lines towards the mountains.

You cannot fail to be struck with the peculiarity of the scene. They are a series of undulations upon a much greater undulation, for the land falls again before reaching the mountain. When yet two hundred miles east of that mountain-range you may catch sight of it, as its snowcovered peaks

fling back the rays of the rising sun. You pass through the ruins of the city of Mendoza, which but five years ago was destroyed by a comparatively slight movement of the outer crust of the earth. At length you. commence to mount the eastern slope of the huge mountainridge.

You may glance eagerly from mountain to mountainfrom valley to valley-districts of gravel, districts of sand, districts of earth, stratified masses, and unstratified masses. You may glance at all, vainly endeavouring by inductive steps to learn the process of their formation; all appears crude disorder and confusion. As the keen winds rush by, perchance they laugh a derisive laugh, and the vast mountain-ranges--rugged, stern, and inhospitable-frown in silent, majestic disdain.

Here man is scorned. The rude mountains frown and the angry winds rage, as if threatening destruction to all who dare to venture here. But man shall triumph yet; for as you stand upon a narrow ridge which rises like a wall fourteen thousand feet above the sea, and on your right and left snow-covered peaks tower upwards nine or ten thousand feet higher, there, stung by the failure of your efforts, by the paths of induction, you boldly rush upon the dizzy heights which are traversed by the dangerous paths of deduction. With a vigorous effort you fing imagination back through time, and let it place you in an age between which and the present countless ages have intervened.

You then find that not only the mountains but the whole

continent has fallen away from beneath you, and there now lies below you one vast expanse of water. The water is deep, out below there is a hard, stratified ground, beneath which the interior of the earth is in a state of liquid heat, but gradually cooling, and as it cools the hardened surface is compelled to bend in graceful curves in order to suit the decreasing size of the globe. By this bending the water becomes of unequal depths, deepening in parts as it becomes shallow in other parts.

At length, immediately below you a ridge of dry land appears ; this, then, is the birth of the South American continent-it continues gradually to rise, throwing off the water to the east and west. There then lies the Pacific, and there the Atlantic ocean. The bending upwards and downwards in the same easy graceful curves continues as long as the * surface remains sufficiently pliant; but at length becoming more hard and brittle as the strain still continues, it cracks with a tremendous crash, the rent extending north and south almost from pole to pole.

Up to this moment the surface has yielded gradually to the power of gravitation, offering great resistance. "But once broken, this resistance is gone ; and gravitation, acting with unchecked power, crushes and grinds the broken edges together with a force scarcely conceivable by the mind of man. Enormous masses of what had once been horizontal strata are now perpendicular, or even reversed. The smashing and grinding of the broken edges by the overwhelming lateral pressure caused by gravitation, leaves scarcely a trace of the former stratified order, but leaves mass piled on mass in vast confusion, forming this huge mountain range along the course of the crack.

And more than this, the outer crust of the earth had hitherto been in a great measure self-supporting, its weight resting upon itself laterally in all parts, so that the interior parts of the earth were in the same measure relieved from ihe weight of its inward pressure. That is, inward pressure had been changed to lateral pressure in proportion as the hardening surface of the earth offered increased resistance to the power of gravitation. But when the hardening surface of the earth becoming more brittle had bent upwards