"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
lay nestling against him, he could not help thinking of the time when
he was a child, and when the New Years were happy ones. Ellen loved no
place so well as her father's arms. When they were folded tightly
around her, she had nothing more to desire; so she lay very still and
silent, while the thoughts of her father wandered away from the loving
child on his bosom to his own unsatisfied state of mind.
"For years," he said within himself, "I have been in earnest pursuit
of the means of happiness, yet happiness itself seems every year to be
still farther in the distance. There is something wrong. I cannot be
in the true path. My days are busy and restless, my nights burdened
with schemes that rarely do more than cheat my glowing fancy. What is
the meaning of this?"
And Mr. Edgar fell into a deep reverie, from which he was aroused by
the voice of his wife, as she laid her hand upon his shoulder.
"A happy New Year, and many joyful returns!" she said, in loving
tones, as she pressed her lips to his forehead.
He did not answer. The tenderly spoken good wishes of his wife fell
very gratefully, like refreshing dew, upon his heart; but he was
distinctly conscious of not being happy.
So far as worldly condition was concerned, Mr. Edgar had no cause of
mental depression. His business was prosperous under a careful
management, and every year he saw himself better off by a few thousand
dollars. Always, however, it must be told, the number fell short of
his expectations.
"There is something wrong." Mr. Edgar's thoughts were all running in
one direction. A startling truth seemed suddenly to be revealed to
him, and he felt inclined to look at it in all possible aspects. "Why
am I not happy?" That was urging the question home; but the answer was
not given.
After breakfast, Mr. Edgar left home and went to his store. As he
passed along the street, he saw at a window the face of a most lovely
child. Her beauty, that had in it something of heavenly innocence,
impressed him so deeply that he turned to gain a second look, and in
doing so his eyes saw on the door of the dwelling the name of Abraham
James. There was an instant revulsion of feeling; and for the first
time that morning Mr. Edgar remembered one of the causes of his
uncomfortable state of mind. Abraham James was an unfortunate debtor
who had failed to meet his obligations, among which were two notes of
five hundred dollars each, given to Mr. Edgar. These had been placed
by the latter in the hands of his lawyer, with directions to sue them
out, and obtain the most that could be realized. Only the day
before--the last day of the year--he had learned that there were two
judgments that would take precedence of his, and sweep off a share of
the debtor's property. The fact had chafed him considerably, causing
him to indulge in harsh language toward his debtor. This language was
not just, as he knew in his heart. But the loss of his money fretted
him, and filled him with unkind feelings toward the individual who had
occasioned the loss.
No wonder that Mr. Edgar was unhappy. As he continued on his way, the
angry impulse that quickened the blood in his veins subsided, and
through the mist that obscured his mental vision, he saw the bright
face of a child, the child of his unfortunate debtor. His own precious
one was no lovelier, no purer; nor had her lips uttered on that
morning in sweeter tones, the words, "A happy New Year, papa!"
How the thought thrilled him.
With his face bowed, and his eyes upon the ground, Mr. Edgar walked
on. He could not sweep aside the image of that child at the window,
nor keep back his thoughts from entering the dwelling where her
presence might be the only sunbeam that gave light in its gloomy
chambers.
When Mr. Edgar arrived at his store, his feelings toward Mr. James
were very different from what they were on the day previous. All
anger, all resentment, were gone, and kindness had taken their place.
What if Mr. James did owe him a thousand dollars? What if he should
lose the whole amount of this indebtedness? Was the condition of the
former so much better than his own, that he would care to change
places with him? The very idea caused a shudder to run along his
nerves.
"Poor man!" he said to himself, pityingly. "What a terrible thing to
be thus involved in debt, thus crippled, thus driven to the wall. It
would kill me! Men are very cruel to one another, and I am cruel with
the rest. What are a thousand dollars to me, or a thousand dollars to
my well-to-do neighbor, compared with the ruin of a helpless
fellow-man? James asked time. In two years he was sure he could
recover himself, and make all good. But, with a heartlessness that
causes my cheek to burn as I think of it, I answered, 'The first loss
is always the best loss. I will get what I can, and let the balance
go.' The look he then gave me has troubled my conscience ever since.
No wonder it is not a happy New Year."
Scarcely had Mr. Edgar passed the dwelling of his unfortunate debtor,
when the latter, who had been walking the floor of his parlor in a
troubled state of mind, came to the window and stood by his child, who
was as dear to him as a child could be to the heart of a father.
"Happy New Year, papa!" It was the third time since morning dawned
that he had received this greeting from the same sweet lips. Mr. James
tried to give back the same glad greeting, but the words seemed to
choke him, and failed in the utterance. As the two stood by the
window, the wife and mother came up, and leaning against her husband,
looked forth with a sad heart. Oh, no! it was not a happy New Year's
morning to them. Long before the dawn of another year, they must go
forth from their pleasant home; and both their hearts shrunk back in
fear from the dark beyond.
"Good morning, dear," said Mr. James, soon afterward, as, with hat and
coat and muffler on, he stood ready to go forth to meet the business
trials of the day. His voice was depressed, and his countenance sad.
The business assigned to that day was a painful one for Mr. James. The
only creditor who had commenced a suit was Mr. Edgar, he having
declined entering into any arrangement with the other creditors,
coldly saying that, in his opinion, "the first loss was always the
best loss," and that extensions were, in most cases, equivalent to the
abandonment of a claim. He was willing to take what the law would give
him. Pursuant to this view, a suit had been brought, and the debtor,
to anticipate the result, confessed judgment to two of his largest
creditors, who honorably bound themselves to see that a _pro rata_
division was made of all his effects.
The business of this New Year's Day was to draw up as complete a
statement as possible of his affairs, and Mr. James went about the
work with a heavy heart. He had been engaged in this way for over an
hour, when one of his clerks came to the desk where he was writing,
and handed him a letter, which a lad had just brought in. He broke the
seal with a nervous foreboding of trouble; for, of late, these letters
by the hands of private messengers had been frequent, and rarely of an
agreeable character. From the envelope, as he commenced withdrawing
the letter, there dropped upon the desk a narrow piece of paper,
folded like a bill. He took it up with almost reluctant fingers, and
slowly pressed back the ends so as to read its face and comprehend its
import. Twice his eyes went over the brief lines, before he was clear
as to their meaning. They were as follows:--
"Received, January 1, 18--, of Abraham James, One Thousand Dollars,
in full of all demands.
"HIRAM EDGAR."
Hurriedly, now, did Mr. James unfold the letter that accompanied this
receipt. Its language moved him deeply.
"_Abraham James, Esq._,
"Dear Sir: I was not in a right state of mind when I gave directions
to have a suit brought against you. I have seen clearer since, and
wish to act from a better principle. My own affairs are prosperous.
During the year which has just closed, my profits have been better
than in any year since I started business. Your affairs, on the
contrary, are unprosperous. Heavy losses, instead of fair profits, are
the result of a year's tireless efforts, and you find yourself near
the bottom of the wheel, while I am sweeping upward. As I think of
this, and of my unfeeling conduct toward you in your misfortunes, I am
mortified as well as pained. There is an element in my character which
ought not to be there. I am self-convicted of cruelty. Accept, my dear
sir, in the enclosed receipt, the best reparation in my power to make.
In giving up this claim, I do not abandon an item that goes to
complete the sum of my happiness. Not a single comfort will be
abridged. It will not shrink the dimensions of my house, nor withdraw
from me or my family any portion of food or raiment. Accept, then, the
New Year's gift I offer, and believe that I have a purer delight in
giving than you in receiving. My best wishes are with you for the
future, and if, in anything, I can aid you in your arrangements with
creditors, do not fail to command my service.
"Most truly yours,
"HIRAM EDGAR."
For the space of nearly five minutes Mr. James sat very still, the
letter of Mr. Edgar before him. Then he folded it up, with the receipt
inside, and placed it in his pocket. Then he put away the inventories
he had been examining, and tore up several pieces of paper, on which
were sundry calculations. And then he put on his warm overcoat and
buttoned it to the chin.
"Edward," said Mr. James, as he walked down the store, "I shall not
return this afternoon. It is New Year's Day, and you can close up at
two o'clock."
It cost Mr. Edgar a struggle to write the receipt in full. A thousand
dollars was a large sum of money to give away by a single stroke of
the pen. Love of gain and selfishness pleaded strongly for the last
farthing; but the better reason and better feelings of the man
prevailed, and the good deed was done. How light his heart felt, how
suddenly the clouds were lifted from his sky, and the strange pressure
from his feelings! It was to him a new experience.
On the evening that closed the day, the first evening of the New Year,
Mr. Edgar sat with his wife and children in his elegant home, happier
by far than he was in the morning, and almost wondering at the change
in his state of mind. Little Ellen was in his arms, and as he looked
upon her cherub face, he thought of a face as beautiful, seen by him
in the morning, at the window of his unfortunate debtor. The face of
an angel it had proved to him; for it prompted the good deed from
which had sprung a double blessing. While he sat thus, he heard the
door-bell ring. In a few minutes the waiter handed in a letter. He
broke the seal, and read:--
"MY DEAR SIR: This morning my dear little Aggy, the light of our home,
greeted me with a joyous 'Happy New Year.' I took her in my arms and
kissed her, keeping my face close to hers, that she might not see the
sadness of mine. Ah, sir! the day broke in gloom. The words of my
child found no echo in my heart. I could have wept over her, if the
strength of manhood had not risen above the weakness of nature. But
all is changed now. A few minutes ago the 'Happy New Year' was flowing
to me from the sweet lips of my child, and the words went thrilling in
gladness to my heart. May the day close as happily for you and yours,
as it is closing for me and mine. God bless you!
"ABRAHAM JAMES."
Mr. Edgar read this letter twice, and then handed it, without a word,
to his wife.
The story, to which she listened eagerly, was briefly told. When Mr.
Edgar had finished, his wife arose, and, with tears of love and
sympathy in her eyes, crossed over to where he was sitting, and
throwing her arms around his neck, said, "My good, my generous
husband! I feel very proud of you this night. That was a noble deed;
and I thank you for it in the name of our common humanity."
Never had words from the lips of his wife sounded so pleasant to the
ears of Mr. Edgar. Never had he known so happy a New Year's Day as the
one which had just closed. And though it saw him poorer than he
believed himself in the morning, by nearly a thousand dollars, he was
richer in feeling--richer in the heart's unwasting possessions--than
he had ever been in his life.
[Illustration: God Be Merciful to Me a Sinner.]