Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1870-09-28
THE MINISTER OF MONTCLAIR.

1t was no use the letters danced before
his eyes, the world seemed wavering and
uncertain in those days. He laid his book
down and began to think of the great trou
BE which was shutting him in. When the
black specks first began to dance between
lin and his paper, months ago, he had not
thought about the matter. 1t was annoy
ing, to be sure, but he must have taxed
his eyes too severely. He would work a
little less by lamplig ght-spare them a while
and he should be all right. So he had
spared them more and more, and yet the
specks kept on their elfn dance and now,
for weeks, the conviction had been growing
on him slowly, that he was going to be
blind. He had not told his wife yet-how
could he bear to lay on her shoulders the
burden OF his awful calamity? Oh, it was
too hard
And yet, was it too hard? Dared he say
50? he, Gods minister-who had told 9TH
cr sufferers so many times, that their chas-
Jennings were dealt out to them Icy kind
Fathers hand, and that they should count
all that brought them nearer to Hin as Joy
Gus, not grievOus.
Yet, speaking after the manner of this
world, his burden seemed greater than he
could bear. What could he do-a blind,
helpless man? He must give up his work
iu lite-let another take his ministry-sit
helpless in the darkness, Heaven only knew
how long. Could he be thus resigned?
Then suddenly fash of hope kindled
his sky. There might be help for him.
This gathering darkness might be some
thing which science could remove. He
would b sui Of that before he told Mary
And then he became feverishly Impatient
lie must know al once, it seemed to him
he called his wife and tol her, with man
ner which he tried to make calm, that he
WAS going out of town the next morning, or
little business. She wondered that he
was 50 uncommunicative-it was not like
him-but she would not trouble him with
any questions. She should know It all
some time she knew; still she thought
there was something strange in his way Of
speaking.
The minister strove hard for tl.e mastery
OF his own spirit, as the cars whirled HIM
along the next morning, towards the tribu-
nal at which he was to receive his sentence.
He tried to think of something else, but
found the effort vain. So he said, over and
over, as simply as child, one form of
words:
Father, whichever way it turns, Oh,
give me strength to bear it.
Holding fast to prayer, az to an anchor,
he got out of the cars, and went into the
street. What curious mist seemed to
surround all things! The houses looked
like spectres through it; the people he met
seemed like ghosts. He had not re allied
ms defective vision so much at home where
It had come on him gradually, aud all OBJ
Jects were so familiar. Still, with an effort
he could see the signs on the street corners,
and find his way.
He reached at last, the residence of the
distinguished oculist for whose verdict he
bad come. He found the parlor half filled
with people, waiting Ike himself He was
asked for his name, and sent in a card on
which was written. Rev. William Spencer
NontcIair. Then he waited his turn He
dared not think how long the time was, or
what suspense he was in. He just kept his
simple chiid's prayer III his heart, and stea
died hiuself with it.
The time came for him at last, and he
followed the boy who summoned him into a
little room shaded with green, with green
furniture, and on a table vase of flowers
lhe stiffness of the cool scented air refresh
Ell him. He saw dimly, as he saw every
Thing that morning, tall, slight man, with
l AIna face and quiet manners, who addres
>ed him by name, invited him to sit down,
anu then inquired into his symptoms with
>nch tact and sympathy that he felt as if he
WIS talking with friend. At last the doc
Tor asked him to take a seat by the window,
and have his eyes examined. His heart
Beat chokingly, and he whispered under his
breath:
Thy will Oh, God, be done; only give
NE strength" "
Dr Gordon Eas silent for a moment OF
tNo-lt seemed ages to Mr.. Spencer Then
lie said, with the tenderest and saddest
voice, as he felt to the utmost all the pain
he was inficting:
l cannot give you any hope. The mall
~ly Is Incurable. You will not loose your
sight Just yet, bat it must come soon.'
The minister tried to ask how long il