Wilmington journal. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1844-1895, 1872-05-03
RATAs OF ADvE : TI-1se :

each well-known, weIl-loved scene. rotanr
anxiously just how those tree-boughs stood
out against the sky, or that hill climbed to-
ward the sunset. He studied every little
| flower, every fern the children gathered !:
for all creation seemed 10 take for him !
new beauty and worth. Most of all he
| studied their dear home faces. His wife
| grew used to the dim wistful eyes follow
ing her SO constantly; but the children
wondered why papa liked so well to keep
them in sight; why did he not read or
study any more.
There came time at last one SUNDAY
morning, when the brilliant summer sun
shine dawned for him in vain.
''Is it bright day, dear?'' he asked,
hearing his wife moving about the room.
every bright, William"
"Open the blinds, please, and let the sum
shine in at the east windows"
Mary Spencer's heart stood still within
her, but she commanded her voice, and an
swered steadily:
"They are open William. The whole
room is full of light"
''Mary, cannot see; the times come. I
am alone in the darkness"
"Not alone, my love-" she cried i'm a pas-
sion OF grief and pity, and tenderness.
Then she went and sat down beside him
on the bed, and drew his head to her
bosom, and cOmforted him, just as she was
wont to comfort her children. After a time
her tender caresses, her soothing tones.
seemed to have healed his bruised, tortured
heart. lie lifted up her head and kissed
her, his first kiss from out the darkness in
which he must abide, and then he sent her
away. think every soul, standing face
to face with an appalling calamity, longs to
be for space alone with its God.
Three hours after the church bells rang,
no min nicfo l.
walked out of their dwelling, save that now
he leaned upon her ann. 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, nc spoke To the wondering con-
gregation.
''Brethren, stand before you as one OH
whom the Fathers hand has fallen heavily.
L am blind. ] shall never see you again in
this wOrld-you, my children-for whose
souls L have striven so long. L have looked
my last 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 l may lose
nOne.'
There was not a fearless face among
! those which were lifted tsward 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
audlbly, but the minister was calm. After
d moment he said:
.'My brethren, us far us is possible, the
services will proceed as usual"
Then in a clear voice, in which there
seemed to his listeners ears some unearthIy
sweetness, he recited the one hundred and
thirteenth Psalm, commencing:
'Out OF the deep have l called upon
Thee o Lord; Lord, hear my voice.
Afterwards he gave out the first line of a
hymn, which the congregation sang. Then
he prayed, and son said who heard him,
tie eyes closed on earth were surely be-
holding the beautiful vision, for he spoke
/ as son beloved, whose very soul was full
OF the glory Of the Fathers presence.
The sermon which followed was such an
one as they had never before heard from
his lips. There was power in it, "A fervor,
tenderness which no words of mine can
| describe. 1t was the testimony of a living
witness, who has found the Lord a very
| present help i'll the time OF trouble.
When all was over, and he came down
the pulpit stairs, his wife stood again at the
foot, and he took her arm and went out
silently. lie seemed to the waiting con-
gregatiOn as one set apart and consecrated
by the amounting of Il special sorrow, and
they dared not break the holy silence
around him with common speech.
The next afternoon Il committee from
the chiiTch Went to Line parsonage. Mrs.
Spencer saw them coming and told her
husband.
''It must be- he said, '.to ask nv advice
in the choice of my successor"
81 think they might have waited one
day ?" she cried, with 4 woman's pas
sionate lmpatience at any seeming forget
fu!ness Of the claims given him by his years
Of faithful service.
The delegation had reached the door by
that time, and the minister did not answer
her. She waited on the men into the
study and left them there, going about her
usual task with a heart full OF bitterness
1t was natural, perhaps, that they should
not want blind minister, but to tell him
so now, to make the very first pang of his
sorrow sharper by their thanklessness, it
was too much.
An hour passed before they went away,
and then she heard her husbands voice
calling her, and went into the study pre-
pared to sympathize with sorrow. She
! found him sitting where she had left him
with such look Of joy, and peace, and
lhanktulness upon his face as she had never
! expected to see it wear again.
''Mary," he said, There are some kind
hearts i'll this world. Aly parish want me
to stay with them, and insist on raising nv
salary a hundred dollars year.
"Want you to stay with them?'' she
cried, hardly understanding lis words.
! "1eS, L told them that could not do
them justice, but they would not listen;
! they believe that my very alliiction will
! give me new power over the hearts OF men :;
that | can do as much as ever. They
would not wait a day, you see, lest we
should be anxious about our future"
"And thought they were coming in in
decent haste, 10 give you notice TO go,'
! Mrs. Spencer cried, penitently. "How L
misjudged them. Shall | never learn
CHI lstian charity!
SO il was settled that the minister of
Montclair should abide with his people.
For three years more his persuasive voice
called them to choose the better way; and
then his own summons came to go up
| higher. In those three years lac had sown
more seed and Teaped more harvest than
! most men in long life time. lie did his
work faithfully, and was ready when the
hour came for him to go home. Just at the
last, when those who loved him best stood
weeping around h.; bedside, they caught
upon his face the Radiance of a light net of
/ this world. lie put out bis hands with
! glad cry
Il see, l see Out Of the dark into tho
! light y
And before they could look with awe anil
wonder into each others eyes tie glory hal
begun 30 fade, the outstretched hands fell
heavily, aud they knew that the blind
minister was gone ''past night, past day.
where for him there would be no more
! darkness.