The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1872-06-27


at you. I want to learn your fac
by heart"
"Ate you going awav?" she asked
after while, for his fixed, silent
mysterious gaze began to tortur
! her.
'Yes, dear, am going, into tn
dark"
sTo die?' she gasped.
"Yes, to die to everything tha
makes up q mans life in this world,
he answered bitterly.
tMary, / am going blind. Thinl
what that means. Alter a few NOR
days, 1 shall never see you again o
oar children, or this dear beautiful
| home where we have lived and loveC
each other. The whole creation i
only an empty sound forever! {
God I! how can I bear it."
''Is there no hope?" she said witt
curious calmness, at which she her
self was amazed.
"None. It was my GRAND tt
town to-day to find out. I have fel
it coming on for months, but
heped against hope, and now ]
know. o Mary, to sit in the dark
ness, until ny death dayl striving
for a sight Of your dear face! 1t il
too bitter, and yet what am I say
ing? Shall my Father not choose
His own way to bring me to the light
of Heaven? I must say, l will say
His will be DONE"
Just then the children came run
ming in; boyish, romping Will; shy.
merry little May.
"Hush dcars," the mother said
softly, "papa is tired. You had bet
ter run out again"
"NO, Mary, let them stay" he IN
terpOsed, and then he said so low
that his wife's ears just caught the
whisper, Il cannot see them too
much in this little while, this little
while"
o how The days went on after
that! Every day the world looked
DINNER to the minister's darkened
eyes. He spent almost all his time
trying to fix the things he loved in
his memory.
1t was pitifu1 to sec him going
around over each well-knOwn, well
loved scene noting anziously just
how these tree-boughs stood out
against the sky, or that hill climbed
toward the sunset. Ee studied
every little flower, every fern the
children gathered; for all creation
seemed to take for him new beauty
end worth. Most of all he studied
their dea~ home faces. His wife grew
used to the dim Wistfnl eJyes that
followed her so constantly; but IL
children wondered why papa liked
so we'll to keep them in sight; why
did he not read or study any more.
There came at last one Sunday
morning, when the brilliant summer
sunshine dawned for him in vain.
''Is it a bright day, dearY he ask
cd hearing his wife moved about the
room.
every bright, William"
open the blinds, please, and let
the sunshine in at the cast windows"
Mary Spencer's heart stood still
within her, but she commanded her
voice, and answered steadily.
"They are open William. The
whole room is full of light"
'Mary, 1 cannot see; the times
come. I am alone in the darkness"
''Not alone, my love-" she cried in
- ,,,-~s1u 81 0-,.iaF o1I 1,ifvr opI
Then she went and sat
down beside him on the bed, and
drew his head to her bosom, and
him just as she was wont
to comfort her children. After
time her tender caresses, her soOth-
inc tones, seemed to have healed his
bruised, tortured heart. He lifted
up her head an kissed her, his first
kiss from out the darkness in which
he must abide, and then he sent her
away. I think every soul, standing
face to face with an appalling ca
lamity, longs to be for a space alone
with its God.
Three hours after the church bells
rang, and as usual, the minister and
his wife walked out of their dwel
ling, save that now he leaned upon
her arm. In that hour of seclusion
he had made up his mind what to
do. They walked up the familiar
way, and she left him at the foot of
the pulpit stairs, and went back to
her pew in front. He grOped up the
stairs. and then rising in his place
he spoke to the wondering congre-
cation.
'Brethren, l stand before you as
one on whom the Fathers hand has
fallen heavily. I am blind! / shall
never see you again in this world
YOU, my children-for whose souls 1
have striven so long. ! have looked
my last time on your kind, familiar
faces on this earth-see to it that !
miss none of you when my eyes are
unsealed again in heaven. Grant,
o Father, that of those whom Thou
hast given me may lose none"
There was not a fearless face
among those which were lifted to
ward him, as he stood there with his
sightless eyes raised to Heaven, his
hands Outstretched as if to bring
down on them the blessing for which
he prayed. Some of the women
sobbed audibly, but the minister was
calm. After a moment he said:
"My brethren, as far as is posi-
Bile. the services will proceed as usu-
al"
Then, in a clear voice, in which
there seemed to his listeners cars
some unearthly sweetness, he recited
the 18th Psalm, commencing
"Out of tie deep have called up
on Thee, o Lord; Lord hear my
voice"
Afterwards he gave out the first
line Of a hymn, which the congrega
ton sang, he prayed, and some said
who heard him that the eyes closed
on earth we're surely beholding the
beautiful vision, for he spoke as
son beloved, whose very soul was full
of the glory of the Fathers presence.
rF,E.- --.-..,,,, r-ht.h f0iinuraA graE