Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-03-17
THE NEW PREACHER.

Most people would say that it was no new preacher at all; he had the same eyes, nose, mouth and hair, was of the same height, and offered the same hands. But others who can read between the lines, and are thankful for the gift, de- clare that it was new preacher. He had gone through some experience. His soul had changed. He had been born again!
 The preacher sat in his cozy study in the afternoon hours. It was his ''den,'' where he was secure from all interrup- tion, and furnished with the luxury of a Sybarite. Soft rugs upon the floor, hand some vases on the low bookcases that en- circled the walls, rare etchings upon the easel, costly engravings on every side, a cabinet of coins in one corner, and a poem in marble in another-it was no wonder that he felt thrill of self-satisfaction as he glanced in every direction. And his sense of comfort was heightened by the roll of proof sheets on his desk-his latest work almost ready for publication. There was long row of volumes since his oc- cupancy of the pulpit, but this was to be his crowning effort, and to increase still further his fame.
 There were the books, the creations of his genius, on q long shelf all by them selves. The critics spoke highly of them; the public bought them; the learned world acknowledged their merit. History, biog- raphy, criticism, were his special fields. But his mind was so versatile that he could produce novels as well; and his poems had also rapid sale. As a popu- lar lecturer he always commanded large audience. His travels to the east and his discovery of the missing tractate of St. Theodosius had gained him the doctorate from three Old World universities.
 Yes, he had been singularly successful, and that. too, without stopping to any mean tricks. He was above sycophancy and self-advertising. He had made his way by hard pushing, by resolute work, by sheer stamina, he was wont to say. Not two decades in the pulpit, he had long outstripped preachers of his class in the seminary, and left them and older graduates far behind He was known as the eminent, the distinguished, and he en- loved the luxury of fame as only men of his character can. He had never done a low action; he had never driven over an adversary, but his talent and genius made a track for themselves from the very start.
 It must be confessed that the preacher, who was never idle, but always a miracle of industry, had one solitary failng-per haDs there were others-he loved to dwell l upon his success, and go over ill memory each step in his advancement. That after l noon he was just in such g mood, and his 1 pride was attaining fever heat. ''James!'' It was the voice of his wife l as she drew aside the heavy curtain that 1 shut off the 'den'' from the hall of the | parsonage.
 "Well?'' came querulous tone from the preacher, disturbed in his revery. 1.-The boy is here whom you wished to see."
 "What boys" he asked, in an impatient 1 tone.
 Don't you rememberP The boy for whom you were to secure situation. You cannot, surely, have forgotten it. !" There was shade of pain in her voice.
 ''Oh, lot him come tomorrow, Edith; I i cannot be bothered now. I have my thoughts busy enough with other matters. Let him come--say, this day next week. 1" "But, James," with gentle remon- strance in her tone-"James, his mother is destitute; she must have money"
 II cannot help it. Why am I always troubled by that class of people? It would tax the patience of Job or the purse ] of Croesus. Let him come next week; do you hear?'
 The preachers wife heard; she sighed as she turned away, and bade the boy l come the following week. Then seeing him to the door, she gave him trifie for l present needs.
 The preacher resumed his reverie, but found it difficult to regain his self-satis- 1 faction. His nature was keenly sensitive, and the slightest cause would often pro- duce the intensest jar. And now what had snapped asunder his pleasant fancies? ] What had veXed him at the moment of his exhilaration?
 It was his wife's sigh-low, tremulous, scarcely audible-which had penetrated his soul and ranked there, as if imbued with physical potency. It was the sigh of his wife, gentle. patient, uncomp1ain- ing, that had stirred him from his dreams. He rose from his chair. He paced np and down the room. He never sighed. Why should his wife sigh? And why should that sigh produce such inward ill9 Had he said aught unkind? Was he not al ways gentle to her?
 His wife's sigh! She was not looking so young. There were streaks of gray in her hair, and her cheeks were not so full and round His wife's sigh! Was it not her wealth that gave him leisure and in- dependence? Was it not her influence that had spread his fame? Did her sigh imply regret at her choice, or her bitter disappointment?
 The preacher had conscience, and il was making sharp fight. Jacobs con test of old with the wrestling angel finds its D., s,sallel in many an inward struggle o. the human soul. The preachers few minutes of agony seemed as long as tht hours to the patriarch, and he too pre- vailed, and his heart was changed, like tn, name of his prototype.
 stI would like to see him so muchl' The tones of fresh, strong voice fel upol his ear as the curtain was drawn asid, and young man entered.
 ssAh, doctor, could not resist the de
 sire to see you. have heard of you s
 often, and your books are well thumbe'
 It home. I have so much to say" Hi
 tagerness rang ont in every word.
 "You know have chosen the miufstr.
 for my vocation. Oh, doctor, feel g I united for the taskl My doubts are no
 of God, or religion, or the G1M Book, Q
 6B9 Uvely maaaitiioa5 aal aek3b etatfuA5 tha