Thomas County cat., 1888-04-05

rom his chair. He paced up and
down the room He never sighed.
Why should his wife sighf And why
should that sigh produce such inward
ill? Had he said aught unkind? Was
he not always gentle to herP
His wife's sigh! She was not look.
ing 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 independence? Was
it not her influence that had spread his
fame? Did her sigh imply regret at
her choice. or her bitter disappoint-
ment?
The preacher had conscience, and
it was making a sharp fight. Jacobs
contest of old with the wrestling angel
finds its parallel in many an inward
struggle of the human soul The
preachers few minutes of agony
seemed as long as the hours to the
patriarch, and he, too, prevailed. and
his heart was changed. like the name
of his prototype.
Il would like to see him 50 much!''
The tones of fresh strong voice fell
upon his ear as the curtain was drawn
aside and young man entered.
"Ah, doctor, I could not resist the
desire to see you. have heard of you
SO often. and your books are well
thumbed at home. have so much to
say" His eagerness rang out in every
word.
"You know l have chosen the min
istry for my vocation. Oh, doctor. I
feel SO untitled for the task! My doubts
are not of God, or religion. or the Good
Book. or the lovely traditions and as
sociatiOns that blend with the faith.
No. no; my doubts are of myself my
unworthiness, my littleness, my pow
erty of the Spirit. What can 1 do to
cope with the task? How can 1 be-
come preacher to humanity? How
shall drive home the religion divine?
How shall l impel men to follow the
Master? The work is so sublime and
l SO Insignificant What can do?''
The preacher heard him. 1t seemed
that his features were familiar, and
his voice was not strange.
"Oh. doctor. 1 do not care for
books when struggling men and weak
women and tender children are to be
uplifted. I do not wish for fame.
do not look for success. measured by
a large congregation. princely sal
ary and a growing reputation. would
have the prophets ideal realized in
my life. Let the spirit of God rest
upon me, however lowly my portion,
the spirit of wisdom and understand.
ing. Let me not judge after the sight
of my eyes. nor reprove after the hear
ing of my ears. These words of Isaiah
always occur to me. doctor. l made
them the text of my graduation SER
mon at the seminary few weeks ago.
l."
His graduation Sermon" thought
the preacher. ''Why. it was my very
text when graduated!'
"Oh. doctor! doctorr' the young
man cried, as the tears started to his
eyes, pardon my impulsiveness.
do not wish to be faithless to my ideal
So many start well and fail. l want
to traverse that text into life. There
is SO much to be done. and so few to
do it. Don't you recall those lines
from Lowell?
:" THE Lord wants reapers: oh, mount up
Before night comes and says: ''Too
Stay not for taking scrip or cup.
The Mas ter hungers while ye watt"
''Those lines-those lines" said the
preacher to himself; "they were al
ways in my memory. Why do hear
them now? Have 1 waited for scrip
or cup while the Master has hun
gered?"
Il know no greater curse. DOCTOR"
continued the young man. with his
cheeks all aflame with enthusiasm,
ethan to have my unfulfilled ideal re-
buke me as 1 grow old. To have the
specter of the unrealized always around
me; to hear the accusing voice of OPP
portunity misspent and advantages
misapplied; to feel that 1 have been
disloyal and cowardly. and bent only
on my own advancement while re-
ligion has hungered - the thought
would drive me wild. And l have
come to you. good sir. for kindly coun-
sci. Tell me what / 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 l have
been to my youths ideal? Oh. spare
me-spare me-
The preacher awOke. Was it but
revery. after all? Had his youth come
back to accuse him, like in Jean Paul
Richter's dream?
Edith Edith 7" he exclaimed, tear
ing aside the curtain. and folding her.
as she came. in passionate embrace.
Edith! Edith! you shall never sigh