"And so the trust-deed is lost?" said the lawyer, as his client concluded his statement: “Ah, I have heard something of this before; and I am sorry for Mr. and for all concerned. It is strange that people will be so careless. However, Sir, your course is clear; you have no occasion to trouble yourself about the deeds. My advice is”

To what the worthy lawyer's advice tended did not appear; for his junior clerk, who had overheard the conversation, had written on a slip of paper, and put it into the hands of his principal, "The trust-deeds of institution are with the remaining papers of Mr.

Henderson's estate in the outer office."

"Eh? What?" exclaimed the lawyer, starting from his seat: "Impossible! you can never mean that—you must be mistaken."

"No, Sir," replied the young man: "I saw them yesterday."

"Go and fetch them-go and fetch them at once. I cannot imagine that you can really be right-I never had the deed to my knowledge."

The young gentleman did as he was requested, and— In half an hour afterwards our old friend Stevenson received another visitor-the lawyer just mentioned.

"I wish you joy, Sir, with all my heart," said he. "That trust-deed which I know has caused you so much uneasiness, is in my possession; and, I am prepared to prove, has been so for more than twenty years, though I was as ignorant of it as you, Sir; and how it got into my hands, or why it was put there, I cannot conceive."

'May I ask where, and how was it found?” inquired

Mr. Stevenson, in a voice agitated with the excess of his varied emotions.

66

Ah, that is just one of those odd chances which sometimes turn up in this strange world of ours."

"Rather say providences, Mr.

"Well, providences, if you will: but thus it was. It was only yesterday that I happened to want a box for the papers of Brown's bankruptcy; and I cast my eyes round the office for a spare one, and seeing that of Henderson's-which to my certain knowledge had not been opened for nearly twenty years, I thought we might venture to tie up the few remaining papers, and make free with the case that contained them: and, in doing this, my clerk saw this deed, and, thinking that it had in some way to do with Henderson's estate, he packed it up with the rest. But why it should have been there, I cannot imagine."

“I think I can tell you then, Sir," said Mr. Stevenson;" that right of road to his house

"True, true; I see it now: yes, Mr. Henderson was a shrewd man, and knew what business was. I believe he was one of the trustees of your charity, and, as such, the deed came into his hands: and so, to make assurance doubly sure, he retained the deed to secure his own rights and then he died suddenly; and his papers came into my hands as his executor; and and it was my carelessness, after all, which has done the mischief."

:

The voice of thanksgiving and praise ascended that evening from the habitation of the righteous; and this

was the burden of the song "The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?- In the time of trouble he" did "hide me in his pavilion; in the secret of his tabernacle" did "he hide me: he" hath "set me upon a rock. I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord."

S.

FLOWERS.

BY MRS. SIGOURNEY.

FLOWERS! flowers! that by the wayside spring, So delicate and wild,

With what a strange delight they fill

The maiden wreaths them round her brow,

And 'mid that shining braid
How fair the violet's eye of blue,

And the faint rosebud's shade!
Upon her polish'd neck they blush,
In her soft hand they shine,
And better crown her peerless charms
Than all Golconda's mine.

Above the floating bridal veil,
The white camelia rears
Its innocent and tranquil eye,
To calm young beauty's fears;

And ever as her heart recalls

The memories of that hour,
Twin'd with the heaven-recorded vow
Will seem that stainless flower.

The matron fills her crystal vase
With gems that Summer lends,
And gladly decks the festal board
For groups of joyous friends.
Her husband's eye is on the taste
With which she wreathes his bower,

And richer is his praise to her

Than earth's most precious flower.

Frail flowers! we call them prone to fade Ere one brief season flies,

Yet down the smitten strong man falls,

And in a moment dies.

Time wears away the arch of rock,

And wrecks the ancient throne;

But here they are, unchanged, as when On Eden's breast they shone.

Most dear and beautiful they are
On youth's unclouded plain,
But yet we never know their worth

Till life is in its wane.

Then grows their love a deeper thing,

When our lone pathway tends Down 'mid the perish'd plants of hope, And graves of buried friends.