NEW-YEAR'S DAY EW-YEAR'S morning! Most of you did not hear the clock strike the last hour of 1881. Perhaps some of you turned drowsily in your warm bed as you heard the cheery rap which announced the arrival of father and mother, and the older brothers and sisters, who had been to the Watch-night Service, to watch the Old Year out and the New Year in. It may be that some of my older readers were present at that solemn, yet happy service. When I was a child I used to think that the worn and wrinkled Old Year, and his fresh young successor, actually appeared in some mysterious way before the eyes of the congregation. No such sight as that, however, has drawn so many from their homes at this late hour. They come simply to spend in prayer and thought the last hours of the Old Year, and in order that the first moments of the New Year may be given to God, and that the kindly feelings they have been cherishing may be expressed in the hearty hand-shake, and the warm good wishes for the opening year with which each greets his neighbour. When you are older you will learn to look upon the Watch-night Service as one of the most precious in the year. Every civilized nation ushers in the New Year with special ceremonies. Perhaps the most curious takes place in far-off China. It is known as the Feast of Lanterns. Every house exhibits a number of variouscoloured lanterns, having six sides. The framework is of wood, richly gilded, and over this is stretched a covering of fine, transparent silk, on which flowers and figures of men and animals are painted in brilliant colours. These lanterns are very costly, some of them being valued at five hundred pounds of English money. These, however, are much too large to hang from the windows. They are equal in size to a small room, and Chinese men and women pass in and out, greeting each other by the bright light of the torches which are fastened in the walls. You will see, from the picture, that they do IN MANY LANDS. not shake hands as we do, but salute each other with profound bows. Of course this New-Year's Feast has a religious meaning, but you will agree with me that the poor Chinese, notwithstanding all this gaudy display, are far less happy at the close of their New-Year's ceremony than the Methodists of Old England returning from their simple, but sacred Watch-night. Doubtless some of you are thinking of friends far away, and on the other side of the world, to whom they would gladly offer friendly greeting. New-Year's day is already far advanced with them. Instead of the chill air of winter's midnight they are inhaling the balmy breezes of a bright summer's evening. A dashing ride across the wooded prairie shall be their New-Year's treat. In their own way, the Australian settlers will welcome the New Year as warmly as the old folk at home, who sit roasting chestnuts by the blazing fire; and, when they reach their journey's end, and joyously tender NewYear's greetings to the lonely dwellers in a solitary cottage, their salutations will be more refreshing than the most elaborate New-Year's card inscribed, 'With the Compliments of the Season.' Some of us are this day remembered by friends or relatives in another British colony; and some stricken hearts will sadly turn to the land where, a year or two ago, ruthless war snatched from them the young and brave and dearly-loved-the sunny South African country. There the walls display wreaths of the delicate mimosa and the climbing geranium; and the graceful arum and gay gladiola take the place of the red and white holly and misletoe, emblems of joy and purity. The family circle gathers in the wide verandah to listen to the twiceread budget of Christmas letters from the old country. The servants, too, are enjoying their Christmas in the open-air, and the little half naked black children come in for their share of the feast. Everywhere, from hot Africa to frozen America, the New Year brings, to young and old, joy and hope, kind CLIMBING AND FALLING. thoughts and neighbourly deeds. In the right-hand corner of our picture you see a Canadian welcoming friends from a distance. The ground is thickly crusted with ice and snow, but this does not deter the happy little company from driving merrily across the frozen ground in their pretty sledges, drawn by a train of well-fed, active dogs, whose bells tinkle merrily as they dash along. The cold is so great that travellers are muffled to the eyes; but what matter if the biting air penetrate even through the thickest wraps? Is not the heart within far too warm to be chilled out of its feeling of kindliness, goodwill, and hope? At last the door of the far-offhome is reached, and regardless of the cold, kind hands assist the benumbed travellers to alight, and loving voices wish them New-Year's blessings. And by the blazing fire inside is a table loaded with gifts, each neatly labelled with the name of one of the guests; for in North America New-Year's gifts are universal. In the left-hand corner of our picture 3 we have a glimpse of New-Year's day among the snowy heights of the Pyrenees. There three merry French children have left their little hut on the mountain-side and are greeting all their neighbours with a carol. Their sweet childish voices are so bewitching that they need not fear lest the basket they carry with them should be long unfilled. These carol-singers do not expect money, but each thrifty housewife chooses from her store some gift to gladden the hearts of the little ones. Sometimes sweetmeats are given, sometimes a cake of white bread, considered a great luxury by the peasants, whose food all the year round is common black bread, coarser than any that you see in England. Many little hearts, the world over, are beating high this New-Year's morning with bright hopes; and let yours, dear children, be filled, too, with earnest prayer and holy purpose, so that this first day and first Sabbath of the New Year may long be remembered as a time of great and lasting blessing. CLIMBING AND FALLING. 'Fain would I climb, but that I fear to fall.' PERHAPS Some of you have heard the story with which our picture and motto are connected, but, whether new or old, it is full of interest to us all, especially now that the New Year lies before us. How often in the past we have tried to mount upwards, and to be and do better than ever; sometimes our foot has slipped, and instead of climbing we have fallen. But if we have manfully picked ourselves up again, our fall has only made us more wary. The old Romans consecrated the first month in their year to Janus, the god who had two faces: one looking backwards over the trodden pathway, the other peering into the unknown. Let us hope that the earnest, eager eyes turned towards the New Year may be all the more watchful because of the mistakes of the Old One. Now for my story. Go back with me three hundred years, and take a peep at the splendid court of 'Good Queen Bess.' So brilliant is the dress of the company, that you are quite dazzled; here is a young dandy in buff-coloured shoes adorned with jewels; there another in crimson cloak and satin vest. Some are chatting gaily, saying many soft words of flattery to the young Queen; others, with graver brow, discuss the latest news from Spain. In a windowniche apart from the company, stands a tall, handsome man, intently occupied in cutting on the pane with a diamond-ring. Ever and again the Queen casts a side glance at the corner where he is at work. His thoughts have been full of her ever since the day when he spread his new cloak in the muddy way, that she might pass over without soiling her delicate shoes. This young man is a climber, and the heights he seeks to scale are dangerous. He, a subject, would win the hand and share the throne of a Queen. He starts back at his own daring, but he will scratch his thoughts on the pane; perhaps she may see the line he has written. So Walter Raleigh writes: 'Fain would I climb, but that I fear to fall.' In due time, underneath it, in a woman's hand, appear the words: 'If thy heart fail thee, do not climb at all:' words which the young courtier might have interpreted to mean, Your misgivings are right. For State reasons it is best that you should think no more about this climbing.' Now, boys and girls, would not Sir Walter's words often express your own thoughts about your plans for the future? If those plans are selfish and grasping, remember Queen Elizabeth's words as a warning. One greater than she has said, 'Seekest thou great things for thyself? seek them not.' Your hearts may well fail you if you are seeking only to 'get on' at the expense of others, or at the risk of 'a good conscience.' Then, indeed, you may soon find yourself in slippery places.' But there are times of climbing when fear of falling should not check you. That is a cowardly, slothful spirit, which says in the affairs of daily life, 'I dare not try.' When you struggle (and I am sure some of you are struggling more than we grown-up people think sometimes) to overcome a bad habit, or to gain an honourable position, resolve that if you do fall, you will not lie grumbling and moaning, but rise and try the harder. When William Carey, the noble missionary, was a boy, his love of adventure often brought him into trouble. One day he was climbing a tree of unusual height, when he fell heavily, broke his leg, and was for months confined to the house. When at last he was able to walk freely, he started off into the garden. When asked what he meant to do there, he answered firmly, 'I'm going to see if I can't climb that tree!' He went and did it. 'The world belongs to the brave,' says the German proverb. Let us try above all things, 'OVER THE SEA AND FAR AWAY to be brave and persevering this year in the greatest battle man can fight-the struggle against sin. One thought more. Day by day we are graving, as with a diamond pen, our thoughts and purposes, graving them for the eye of the King Eternal. Will He discourage those who tremble as they try to climb up 5 the Hill Difficulty to the Palace Beautiful? 'OVER THE SEA AND FAR AWAY.' BY R. A. AND E. S. WATSON. N the midst of a wide sea lay an island, not very large, but beautiful as any fancy could paint. Green shores of elastic turf, gemmed with flowers, and shaded by splendid trees, sloped down to a sandy beach, where the rarest shells and sea-weeds might be found with little trouble, and where the gentle waves, just tipped with summer foam, crept in with a low sweet murmur that seemed to tell of wonderful things 'over the sea and far away.' On this island lived a number of boys, who sought for shells and pebbles upon the yellow beach, explored the woodland glens, and sometimes climbed the sides of the great hill in order to gaze across the sea, and get a glimpse of other shores, which faintly showed themselves far off. Very dim were those distant shores; scarcely to be known from clouds, for a golden haze always hung upon the waters all round the island, and often as the boys climbed the mountain, and looked eagerly across the shining ocean, they could never tell quite plainly what lay beyond the mist. Only they fancied that they could see sometimes a great range of jagged mountains, and the towers and domes of a fine city, and now and then they could discern objects that seemed like a flock of white-winged birds hovering over the waters, but which the boys somehow knew to be fleets of ships, sailing for trade or for war across the world. None of the boys now on the island had ever left it. Others who once lived on it had gone away, but none ever came back, and every day those who were still there 6 'OVER THE SEA AND FAR AWAY. but no one meant to stay any longer than he could help. And how were they to go? How had those gone who had left the island already? There were a number of small boats scattered about the island, not only on the beach, but also higher up amongst the trees, and even here and there on the ridge above a glen, far away as it would seem from the water; yet the boys knew that at times the tide, gentle as it was, rose very high, and no doubt it would reach all the boats in turn, and so they would all get a chance of leaving the island. For these little boats-just made to carry one-could not be moved by the boys' hands. They tried often to loosen one, and drag it to the water's edge, but always found it impossible to do so, and had to wait until the slow-seeming tide swelled. far enough to reach the tiny canoe. Then the boy who had carefully watched his opportunity might spring in and be carried away, away from the happy, flowery island, over the dim, wide-reaching sea, never to come back again. None of the boats had oars, so a boy who wished to go in a certain direction took care to make oars for himself, and perhaps a sail, so that he might be able to guide his boat. Yet often those who seemed the most impatient of all to get away, did the least to prepare for the journey. 'Come!' said one boy, Mark, to another called Eustace, one day, 'Let us go to that valley where we saw the tree that would make such good oars, and cut it down. It is time ours were made. The boats on this steep bit of shore may be reached by the tide any day, and we should be very much vexed if we were not ready to go, because this is the side of the island from which we saw that fine city the other day.' 'I don't feel sure that we saw it from here,' said the other. 'Look there! Don't you see the towers shining through the mist, and a dome that seems to be covered with gold, it is so bright!' I think I see a pier and a lighthouse,' said Eustace. 'Come along, and let us get those oars made to-day!' So away they went, and while they were hard at work with axe and saw two other boys came through the wood. You fellows are mighty busy,' said one of them. 'You ought to be busy too, Guy. You have no oars yet, I know.' 'What does it matter? a deal of good one pair of oars will be out at sea. You may as well save your trouble, for you'll just have to go where the current takes you.' 'I don't believe in that either,' said his companion. Notice a current that is going the way you want to go, and then wait for a boat that floats off on it; that's the best way.' The least trouble, you mean, Louis. But suppose you stuck on a reef somewhere; how could you get off without oars?' Well, there's something in that. Perhaps I had better have a pair after all. Will you help me to get some wood, Guy?' Not I. I'm going up the hill to have a look round; there's less mist than usual today. Come, Louis.' And he sauntered on. Louis hesitated, looked after Guy, and then at the other boys. 'There's plenty of wood here for you as well as for us, Louis. Far better prepare now; you can look about as much as you like when your oars are made. Guy will repent his laziness when it is too late.' Louis was persuaded, and the three boys worked away very industriously for two days, cutting, shaping, and polishing the oars which were to assist them on their voyage across the unknown sea. Several other boys-Bertram, Hugo, Paul, Godfrey, and Harold were also making oars, and were more or less diligent, but Guy only lay in the sun and mocked them, and Ralph and Ronald spent most of their time in gathering fruit and eating it. There was time enough yet, they always said. Yet they might have seen that every time the tide flowed out some boat went with it, and the number of those left became fewer. |