Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-03-17

blend with the faith. No, no; my doubts are or mySelf--my unworthiness, my Ht- tleness, my poverty of the spirit. What can do to cope with the task? How can become preacher to humanity How shall l drive home the religion divine? Iow shall impel men to follow the Mas ter9 The work is so sublime and so in- significant What can I do?'' .sl The preacher heard him. It seemed that his features were familiar, and his voice was not strance
 'Oh, doctor, I do not care for books when struggling men and weak women and tender children are to be uplifted. I do not wish for fame. I do not look for success, measured by large congrega- t1on, princely salary and growing reputation. would have that prophets ideal realized in my life Let the spirit of God rest upon me, however lowly my portion, the spirit of wisdom and under standing. Let me not judge after the sight of my eyes, nor reprove after the hearing of my ears. These words of Isaiah always occur to me, doctor. made them the text of my graduation sermon at the seminary few weeks ago. D.
 "Hs graduation sermon," thought the preacher. "Why, it was my very text when graduatedp'
 ''Oh, doctor! dectorI' the young man cried, as the tears started in his eyes, pardon my impulsiveness. I do not wish to be faithless to r,y ideal So many start we'll and fail. I want to translate that text into life. There is so much to be done, and so few to do it. Don't you re- call those lines from Lowell?
 ''The Lord wants reapers; oh, mount up
 Before night comes and says, Too later
 Stay not for taking scrip or cup,
 The Master hunPerS while wait,
 ''Those lines-those lines,'' said the preacher to himself: ''they were always in my memory. Why do hear them nows Have waited for scrip or cup while the Master has hungered?''
 'I know no greater curse, doctor" con- tinued the young man, with his cheeks all afame with enthusiasm, 'sthan to have my unfulfilled ideal rebuke me as grow old. To have the specter of the unreal ized around me; to hear the accusing voice of opportunity misspent and advantages misapplied; to eelthat have been dis loyal and cowardly, and bent only on my own advancement while religion has hun gered-the thought would drive me wild And 1 have come to you, good sir, for kindly counsel. Tell me what I shall do You sympathize with me. You, too, once were young like myself.'
 ''You have come to me-to me-for counsel." the preacher exclaimed. rising from his chair and advancing. ''Do you know how faithless I have been to my youths ideal? Oh, spare me-spare mel
 The preacher ewolze Was it but a revery, after all? Had his youth come back to accuse him, like in Jean Paul Richter's dream?
 "Edith! Edithr' he exclaimed, tearing aside the curtain, and folding her. as she came, in a passionate embrace. "Edithl Edith!' you shall never sigh again. It is still day for us. It is not too late, thank Godr'
 He told her of hisswrestling spirit and his victory. And when the next Sabbath dawned he preached as he never had preached before. People noted the differ ence; he felt it; and with the seed of humility planted anew in his soul, his work grew to lovelier and more enduring proportions.-Rev, A. s. Isaacs in Harp er's Bazaar.