brated man was a dutiful son, an excellent husband and father, and also a just and liberal master. We need not, then, inquire what sect he belonged to. He settled, at the close of his life, at Tapton, near Chesterfield, and his days were spent quietly amongst his dogs, his rabbits, and his birds; and though delicate in health, owing to years of hard work and anxiety, he must have had a good constitution. He died of an attack of fever, on the 12th of August, 1848, at the age of 67. It is well known that Mr. Stephenson several times refused knighthood in this country, and though the King of the Belgians made him a Belgian knight, he said "I am still simply GEORGE STEPHENSON." Not long before his death he was heard to say, "I have mixed with a greater variety of society than perhaps any man living. I have dined in mines amongst miners, and I have dined with kings and queens, and with all grades of nobility, and have seen enough to inspire me with the hope that my exertions have not been without beneficial results-that my labours have not been in vain."* His loss would have been more severely felt by the public if he had not left behind him a son worthy of his father's great and good name. This son, who worked in a mine with his father, is now a member of parliament, eminent for his skill and talent as an engineer, and esteemed by all who know him. H. J. W. LESSONS FROM NATURE. "There are tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything."-Shakespere. SPRING-THE TREES. What sayest thou, Tree, through thy tongues, the young leaves, And with small birds building under thy eaves? "I see the swallows and martens come "Over sea and land from their winter home; "I see all around me fresh flowers spring free "Neath my shade, and I mark the gold-barred bee *Few men have seen such wide-spread and valuable results to their inventions in their lifetime, and no one can travel by a railroad without acknowledging the great talent and perseverance of George Stephenson. แ Gathering sweet food through the live-long spring-day, "And the meadows alive with lambs at play: "I hear all the woods and the gardens ring THE BROOKS. What page ope the brooks to the bright spring sun, THE STONES. Frowning, and lifting your grand heads so high, "Look at its many coils, fold within fold 66 Forming a circle. Once, pearly and bright, "Over primeval oceans it floated in light, "As its sister, the Nautilus, sails in the bay "Preach, stony Ammonite!" "God, whose high will "Turned me to stone, keeps the Nautilus still; "To show, that though thousands of years since my birth, "Have past in their cycles o'er oceans and earth, "The God who created earth, ocean, and sky, "On the throne of His love holds his power on high." ALL ARE GOOD. There's good in Spring's trees, with their light green tongues, J. A. OLD NURSE'S STORY. (Concluded from p. 49.) WELL, the distribution of the gifts was going on merrily enough, when in came a housemaid to say that her mistress requested me to carry up a tea-tray to the drawing-room door. "It's too heavy for me to lift," she added, "and if you could just spare a minute. "I'll come and welcome," said I, glancing at Miss Celia, "only-you won't get down any more things from off the tree, while I'm away; will you, Miss Celia? I can't bear to see your muslin sleeve going so near those lighted tapers." "I can take care of myself," said the young lady, tossing her head. 66 Yes, but just to please me, you won't, will you, Miss ?" "Perhaps I shan't, and perhaps I shall," returned Miss Celia, winking at her brother as much as to say, "What a tiresome, cross old thing she is." Well, the housemaid began to look impatient, and I didn't like to keep her waiting any longer, so I followed her out of the room and carried up the tray. I had scarcely given it into her hands, however, when I heard a scream, and somehow my mind misgave me at once as to what was the matter. As fast as my old legs would carry me, I ran to the room where I left the children, and there was a scene-oh, such a scene! I think I see it now. The room door had been flung wide open, and some of the girls were rushing out into the hall, others were in the room flying about in a frantic way, and all wringing their hands and shrieking at the top of their voices, yet none of them, not even Master Herbert, able to do a thing to help Miss Celia, who was running towards the door with the upper part of her dress on fire, and her face looking quite wild with fright. How I managed it I don't know, but in an instant I had caught up the hearth-rug, and, throwing myself in the poor child's way, I flung it round her, and am thankful to say that I soon succeeded in extinguishing the flames. In another instant the room was full of people; ladies and gentlemen from the parlour, and servants from the kitchen, all came running to inquire what could be the matter; and louder than all was poor Mrs. Nelson's voice, exclaiming in a distracted way, "My child, my child, what's happened to my child? I will pass," she added, as they hesitated to let her, for Miss Celia's arm was badly burnt. "I will pass, and know what the accident has been." But when she saw the state of her daughter's arm, she became so faint, that some one-Mrs. Fortescue, I believe had to take her out of the room, and I saw nothing of her for a long time, as I had to take charge of poor Miss Celia, while Mr. Nelson ran off for a doctor. Curiously enough, the accident had happened in the way I so much dreaded,-the young lady's sleeve had caught fire from a lighted taper, just as she was in the act of standing on a chair, and taking down a pincushion from off the tree. It was a sad end to the Christmas treat, was it not? and I could not help pitying the poor school-girls for having their enjoyment so completely spoilt, though as to what became of them I really can hardly say; I believe, however, that one of the servants took charge of them, and I know they all reached their homes in safety, and that we sent after them the next day all the Christmas gifts which they, in the bustle, had left behind. When the doctor had been and had dressed Miss Celia's arm, we grew more comfortable, for he evidently did not think very seriously of the burn; as, however, he seemed a little afraid that fever might follow, it was arranged that I should stay and sit up with her that night, for she slept by herself, and she was not fit to be left alone. Well, all was quiet in the house at last, even Mrs. Nelson had retired to rest, and I was sitting watching Miss Celia, who had fallen into an uneasy sleep, when the room door opened very, very softly, and Mrs. Fortescue came in. The light of the night-lamp fell full upon her face, and for the first time I saw her well. "Don't be frightened," she whispered, for I started up, and had nearly uttered a cry. "I was anxious about my niece, for I heard her moaning just now, that was all; but what is the matter? I fear you're over tired, I would have sat up myself, if—” My dears, I could contain myself no longer! "Oh ma'am, don't you know me," I said. "I'm Kesia Morris !" “Kesia Morris !" cried she, "what, my old nurse: is it possible!" She stretched out her hands, I caught them in both mine; and so, after all these years, I stood face to face with my own dear Miss Emily Elliot again. Miss Emily Elliot she was, however, no longer; she was now Mrs. Fortescue, and a widow. "Ah, nurse," said she presently, "and is it really you? I wonder I shouldn't have known you.' "I'm not surprised at that myself, ma'am," said I, "I'm a good deal aged since we parted." 66 we have both And I'm altered too," she said, known a great many changes since then." And the tears came into her eyes, as she thought of the last great change, which had made her a widow. I could not help crying a little, too, from sympathy; and, taking her by the hand, I led her to the fire (for the night was bitter cold), and there we sat down together, she crying still, with her head upon my shoulder, while I gently stroked her hair, and comforted her, as I used to do when she was a little child. Oh, how often she had come, and, with her head upon my lap, had poured out to me her childish griefs! her brothers had been quarrelling, perhaps, and she could not bear to hear them, or Fred had pulled her white kitten's tail, and had made her cry; or, greatest of all, her canary had been found lying dead at the bottom of its cage. Poor dear! she had always so tender a heart, but now, in her sorrow for her husband's death, she had learnt, I know, to seek for comfort where alone it may at all times be found. Well, after a bit we grew calmer, and were beginning to talk to each other in the lowest whispers, when Miss Celia suddenly started in bed, "Oh inama, I blew it out!" cried she. up Mrs. Fortescue and I were instantly at her side, both feeling rather frightened. "Hush, love," said her aunt, gently, "you were dreaming, I think." No,-yes-I think I was," said Miss Celia, "about the magic lanthorn, you know,"-" who's that?" And she looked, in a bewildered way, at me. |