ther. And yet it was so.
What a power there is in God's word, as it flows into and rests in the
minds of innocent childhood."

Tears were in the eyes of the wife and mother, as she lifted her face
and gazed with a subdued tenderness, upon the countenance of her
husband. Her heart was too full for utterance. A little while she thus
gazed, and then with a trembling joy, laid her hand upon his bosom.
Angels were in the chamber where their dear ones slept, and they felt
their holy presence.

Hallowed, ay, hallowed! not alone in prayer,
But in our daily thoughts and daily speech;
At altar and at hearthstone--everywhere
That temple-priests or home-apostles preach.
Oh, not by words alone, but by our deeds,
And by our faith, and hope, and spirit's flame,
And by the nature of our private creeds,
We hallow best, and glorify _thy_ Name.
Nature doth hallow it. In every star,
And every flower, and leaf, and leaping wave,
She praises Thee, who, from Thy realm afar,
Such stores of beauty to this fair earth gave.
But these alone should not Thy love proclaim--
Our hearts, our souls respond--"_All hallowed be Thy Name_."

THE HAPPY NEW YEAR

"Happy New Year, papa!" The sitting-room doors were thrown open, and a
sweet little girl came bounding in. Her cheeks were all aglow. Smiles
played around her cherry lips, and her eyes were dancing with sunny
light.

"Happy New Year, my sweet one!" responded Mr. Edgar, as he clasped the
child fondly to his heart. "May all your New Years be happy," he
added, in a low voice, and with a prayer in his heart.

Little Ellen laid her head in confiding love against her father's
breast, and he bent down his manly cheek until it rested on the soft
masses of her golden hair. To her it was a happy New Year's morning,
and the words that fell from her lips were heart-echoes. But it was
not so with Mr. Edgar. The cares of this world, and the deceitfulness
of riches, had, like evil weeds, found a rank growth in his heart,
while good seeds of truth, which in earlier life had sent forth their
fresh, green blades, that lifted themselves in the bright,
invigorating sunshine, gave now but feeble promise for the
harvest-time.

No; Mr. Edgar was not happy. There was a pressure on his feelings; an
unsatisfied reaching out into the future; a vague consciousness of
approaching evil. Very tenderly he loved his little one; and as she
l