d not like that."

"You don't mean to say that you or any one likes being here?"

"Oh, no; I don't mean to say that. But things are better than they were
once: and they may be better again."

"I shall not live to see that," groaned Johnny.

"No; nor I. But it is something to think of."

"D---- it," said Johnny, "I am not the better for any good that does not
happen to me, nor to any body I know."

"Are not you?" said neighbor Smith. "Well, now, I am."

And so she was to the end. She died in that infirmary, and not very long
after. When the Morells' letter came, it was plain that they had enough
to do to take care of themselves. So she did not let them know,--in her
reply, written by the hands of the schoolmaster,--where she was. The
letter was so cheerful that they are probably far from suspecting, at
this moment, how she died and was buried. As "from the abundance of the
heart the mouth speaketh," there was so much in her letter as rather
surprised them about her hope and expectation that the time would come
when hearty work in the vigorous season of life should secure its easy
close; and when a greater variety of employment should be opened to
women. There was more of this kind of speculation and less news and
detail of facts than they would have liked. But it was a household event
to have a letter from Miss Smith; and the very little children,
forgetting the wide sea they had passed, began shouting for Miss Smith
to come to them just (as it happened) when her ear was closing to every
human voice.

ON THE ATTEMPTS TO DISCOVER THE NORTHWEST PASSAGE.

There are some peculiarities of style in the following performance,
which is by no means devoid of eloquence, and which derives a certain
interest from the efforts now being made to discover the fate of Sir
John Franklin. The author is GEORGE STOVIN VENABLES, LL. D., of Jesus
College, Cambridge.

THE NORTHWEST PASSAGE.

"And now there came both mist and snow,
And it grew wondrous cold;
And ice, mast high, came floating by,
As green as emerald.
And through the drifts and snowy clifts
Did send a dismal sheen:
Nor shape of men, nor beasts we ken--
The ice was all between--
The ice was here, the ice was there--
The ice was all around:
It crack'd and growl'd, and roar'd and howl'd,
Like noises in a swound."

COLERIDGE. _Rime of the Ancient Mariner._

The secret wonders of the gloomy North bid