Two New Years' Days.

UNDAY evening in the vicarage of Rockingham was always a quiet and hallowed season. The sermons on which the care of a week had been

expended had been preached; the sick had been visited during the intervals of Divine worship; and when Dr. Sterling reached home, at about a quarter past eight, he felt that he had done what he could to give a happy and helpful sabbath to his congregation. It was his habit to lengthen out the Sunday evening at home as long as he could. It was his own sabbath, he used to say; a time of refreshing from the presence of the Lord, in which a jaded mind and body were recruited for fresh service. He would settle himself down in his easy chair while the children sang softly soothing hymns, or perhaps read a psalm to him, or questioned him about something which they could not quite understand in his sermon. Very simple, most informal, affectionately homelike he had always found the end of the sabbath to be. He was, as the rule, punctual to a minute in his place; but to-night-New Year's night of all nights in the world-he was late. His slippers were before the fire, the piano was open, and hymn-books were on the table ready for use. Blanche and Rosa were sitting close to their mother, and their burly brother Fred, who had come up from college to spend Christmas at home, listening to the wintry wind without, kept going to the window, wondering what could have kept his father out beyond his time.

"You may be sure, my boy, there is some good reason for it," said his mother, gently; "with him, you know, his Lord and Master's work is first and chiefest; and since his delight in that work is so deep and fervent, we should be joyful rather than sorrowful at any cause which keeps him from us; though after this hard day's work——

A well-known rat-tat at the door caused the wife to spring from her chair; and in a minute or two Dr. Sterling was in his usual place. His face, always grave, to-night was un

usually so. He sat down in his chair and covered his face with his hands, and answered in monosyllables to the questions of his wife and children, who saw him looking ill. “What is the matter, dear?" asked his wife, affectionately -"you look so pale."

"Do I? It is not because of any anxiety or illness, I assure you; the fact is, I have been freed from a great trouble, and I am overjoyed, and joy sometimes affects a man of my temperament more keenly than grief."

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"You and our organist, dear papa," said Blanche, with an arm thrown tenderly around his neck, seem to have been smitten with the same pleasant complaint. Did you ever hear such a triumphant rendering of the 'Hallelujah Chorus' as that with which he favoured us to-night?"

"It startled me," said Rosa, "because all the year we have had nothing but melancholy dirges, papa-that I often feel in the church as though I were in a sick room, where a poor creature was moaning in pain."

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My dear," said her good father, gently, "he was in pain, and could do no other than give vent to his sorrow in the melancholy strains you speak of. It was his only language, but one most touching, most eloquent; and I always understood it."

"Then the burst of triumph with which he ended the service to-night," said Blanche, "was, I hope, the end to his troubles; and we will hope that, though it is deep mid-winter, in his case, poor fellow, the time of the singing of birds has come." Her father made no reply, but gently kissed the rich auburn tresses which formed a veil over his face.

"Are you too tired, my dears," said Dr. Sterling, presently, "to hear a story of real life? Fred, my boy, it will do you no harm; there are so many unfortunate people in this world, dear Fred, whom you and I have solemnly vowed to help to the utmost of our ability. I have preached three times to-day, besides catechising the children and visiting the sick; but it will be a pleasure to me to talk a little more, if you, my dears, do not mind listening."

His two girls immediately sat themselves down at his knee, and the mother gave a stir to the fire, which shot forth a ruddy blaze. Fred leaned back in his chair, and looked steadfastly at the fire. It was some moments before he could speak; then he began as follows:-"Last New Year's Day, my dears, you will remember did not fall on Sunday; -but, nevertheless, it has been our custom here for many years to hold a devotional service on that day, that, in our own minds, we may mark the line dividing one year from another, strengthen each other in pure and holy resolves for the future by confessing the sins of the past, and by imploring help from on high to aid us in what the hidden future might have in reserve for us. You and I, my children, had seen the old year out and the new year in upon our knees; and early in the morning, before the dawn of day, I went on before you to the schoolroom where the service was to be held. The lamps were flickering in the keen east wind, and snow was being scattered like morsels; the nipping blast impeded progress at almost every step; but, resolutely braving it, I at length arrived at our destination in our comfortably lighted room, where a small congregation had already assembled. Sitting near the stove, as near to it as possible, was a young man who forcibly arrested my attention. That he was hungry and unhappy, I could see at a glance; but, meanly dressed as he was, he looked the gentleman; and there was a certain something, I cannot say what, which instinctively induced me to hold out my hand to him. He was in the most threadbare attire, but it was as clean and neat, perhaps, as a good wife could make it; but his face and figure, both of which ill accorded with his faded garments, seemed with touching pathos to say, 'I am not what I once was; I have had a fall in life.; if there is a heart within you, pity me; help me.'

"A happy new year to you, my friend,' I said, feelingly. 'God calls us to new hopes and to new resolves on this happy New Year's Day, however dreary it may be in the world outside.' I said the words without any deep thought,

just as I might have said them to anybody at the beginning of a new time; but, as I said them, he trembled like one of our leafless trees in the garden with a dark, hard sky above it. He caught hold of my hand, and I feel still the tear which dropped on it that morning as he held mine in his own. You will remember, my dears, we were without an organist at that time, and we had no singers,' as the saying goes; and although I love music as much as you and Blanche do, Rosa, I cannot set a tune, and my churchwardens and lay helpers are in the same state of musical incapacity. There was the harmonium open, but there was no one to play it, and I was afraid that we should have to begin without any service of song. The room was tolerably well filled when I entered the desk; and, trusting that some one would be able to lead the singing, I gave out Charles Wesley's noblest hymn:

'Come on, my partners in distress,

Ye travellers through this wilderness.'

'Will some one be so kind as to set the tune ?' I asked. There was no response, but after the lapse of about a minute the young man with whom I had shaken hands, without the slightest self-consciousness, walked up to the instrument and gave what Blanche would call a 'majestic' chord. My dears, I can't sing; but I know what good singing is, and good playing too. I had not listened to this young man a minute before I understood that he was an artist, and that he could talk in music more forcibly than you and I, Fred, can talk in words. His introduction to the tune seemed to breathe the very spirit of that snowy New Year's morning. It was the dawn struggling to show itself through the dark; it was the cheerful rustling of morning saying to the night, 'You have lasted long enough; let us have a little sunshine and hope. We want to live anew ; to forget the things which are behind, and to press forward unto those which are before.' He was on my mind both in the prayer I offered and the little address I delivered. I merely said a few words upon the precious text, 'I will go

in the strength of the Lord God; I will make mention of his righteousness, and of his only.' I pointed out how this could be done through the merits of our blessed Lord's atoning sacrifice, and endeavoured to make all my hearers sensible of the great love which their Father in heaven had for each and all of them, and of the directing and overruling providence which numbered the very hairs of their heads. At the close of the service I laid my hand kindly on the shoulder of the young organist and asked him to speak to me. 'What is it?' I said, when we were alone; 'is it right between you and God?'

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It's all wrong, sir,' was the mournful response. 'I did love God; I sometimes hope I love him still; but I seem cast away from his presence.

I have not read my Bible for months; I have not really prayed, myself, during all the year, although I have joined in the prayers of others; life has been very bitter to me, and I have seen my widowed mother and sisters wanting bread. This morning I thought I would come here, in the hope that the Lord would meet and he has met with me.'

me;

"I looked into the poor fellow's face, and saw a sorrow which I felt to be sacred, and I sat down and wept; I really could do no other. 'Mr. Holland,' I said, presently, 'we are in want of an organist; will you kindly give us your services for such remuneration as we can offer? There are many in the congregation who will be glad to become your pupils; and things may yet take a brighter turn with you. Play for us to-day, and come and take tea with me this afternoon. Now, don't say a word of thanks; but in the intervals of Divine service lift up your heart to God, and determine to begin the year in his strength. You have said you have not read your Bible for months; read it to-day. You have given up prayer; begin to pray to-day. What a real joy it will be to your heavenly Father to see you do these things!'" "You dear, good papa!" said Blanche, tenderly, kissing his hand and laying her head upon his knee.

My dears," her father went on, in a gentle voice, “God