A GLANCE AT BERNE.

ERN, in old German, or rather in the Suabian dialect, signifies a bear. It is built on a lofty sandstone promontory, formed by the winding course of the Aar, which almost surrounds it, flowing at the bottom of a deep gully, with steep and precipitous sides. The distant aspect of the town, planted on this elevated platform, 1600 feet above the sea, is very imposing, and its interior has a peculiarly solid and striking appearance, owing to all the houses being built of massive stone, almost all of them resting on arcades, which furnish covered walks on both sides of the streets, and are lined with shops and walls; but the lowness of these arches, and the thickness of the buttresses which support them, render the colonnades close and gloomy. The streets abound in fountains and rills of water, that run in all directions, cooling and purifying the atmosphere. One of these, called the Kinderfresser-Brunnen (Ogre's Fountain), received its name from a figure (probably Saturn) devouring a child, with others stuck in his girdle and pockets. Other fountains are supported by armed warriors.

The great charm of Berne is the view of the Bernese Alps, which the town and every eminence in its neighbourhood commands in clear weather. This is

beautifully seen from the Platform-a lofty terrace, planted with shady rows of trees overhanging the Aar, from which more than a dozen snowy peaks of the great chain are visible. There is not a more sublime sight than this view at sunset, especially at times when, owing to a peculiar state of the atmosphere, the slanting rays are reflected from the alpine snows in hues of glowing pink. The Platform itself rises 108 feet above the Aar; yet an inscription on the parapet records that a young student, mounted on a spirited horse, which was frightened by some children, leaped the precipice. The horse was killed on the spot, but its rider only received a few broken ribs.

The Museum, which is open to the public three times a week, and to strangers at all times by a small fee, contains one of the finest collections of the natural productions of Switzerland.

"THIRTEEN pounds a year!" said Kate Lawson, looking hard in her sister's face as she spoke, "thirteen pounds a year, why, it is a mere nothing for house rent, and then our expenses will not be much; surely, with even half-a-dozen pupils, we might manage to make a beginning." The other girl smiled feebly as she answered, "If we could believe Mrs. Toms, our succeeding is certain; but, someway, I have no faith in her, and doubt her friendship as much as I do her generosity; but as we must endeavour at something while we have funds to commence with, and as this appears the only opening, perhaps we had

better close with the man, and take the house before any one else anticipates our speculation."

The speakers were the orphan daughters of a Government officer, who, with the usual improvidence of his class, had lived not only up to his income, but beyond it; leaving his children nurtured in all the delicacy of independence, utterly helpless to meet the trials inevitable on its loss. With him had died not only their worldly position, but the absolute means of support; and though neither of the sisters were deficient in energy and perseverance, even these positive virtues, wanting a right direction and the government of prudence, became negatived in effect. The Mrs. Toms alluded to was the wife of a retired tradesman, upon the debtor's side of whose accountbook Mr. Lawson's name unfortunately figured; but, during his lifetime, they had compromised their claims as creditors, for the sake of being tolerated as acquaintance by persons in a sphere of society several shades of gentility above their own. Weak, vain, and deficient in mental qualities; in all the intricacies of cunning, and hard-handed dealings of selfishness, Mrs. Toms was a match for the most worldly wise; and finding that the Lawsons could be of no farther use in pushing her into the society it was her ambition to belong to, and knowing the strictly honourable principles of these young persons, it occurred to her that, in losing the advantages their acquaintance had previously been, there was no necessity for losing si f their small account, especially as they stil

few trinkets and articles of plate, which she imagined might very profitably (so far as she was concerned) be made the medium of paying their father's debt. She knew there was no law but that of their own integrity to enforce its payment, but it was upon this she calculated; and, actuated solely by these views, had moved them to take a step that, by bringing them in close proximity with herself, satisfied her that, if the speculation they proposed succeeded, she should be the first to profit by it; and if otherwise, and ruin brought about the sale of their effects, she still would have the first chance of having her claims attended to. Such was Mrs. Toms, whose turn it had now become to play the patroness, and to whose advice, in the absence of other counsel, and their anxiety to commence their new duties of self-support, they had unfortunately listened.

Every one remembers the severe winter of '40. Well, it was in the middle of the November of this year that the inhabitants of Elmstead first observed that a certain notice of disoccupancy, and a desire to receive fresh tenants, that had been posted for at least two years on the outside of a house belonging to John Thorndyke, the village blacksmith, had absolutely disappeared, as well as its duplicate from the gable end of the forge. Yes, the house was actually let, but to whom, and for what, no one appeared to know; report put into it a widow and her daughter, a new dressmaker, and a dentist, in succession, neither of whom turned out to be the