The Daily times. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1886-1889, 1888-03-10

often, and Your are well thhiiiDth
NJ home. nave so much to say His
eagerncss rang out IN every word.
"You know | have chosen the ministry
for my vocation. Oh, doctor. | feel 50
unified for the task My doubts are not
Of God, OF religion, or the Good Book, or
the lovely traditions and associations that
blend with the faith. No, no.; my doubts
are Of myself-iny unworthincss, my lit
tleness. my poverty Of the spirit. What
can I do TO cope with the task How can
I become a preacher 10 humanity How
shall I drive home the religion divine!
How shall / impel men to follow the Mas
ter The work is 80 sublime n | so IN
significant. What can ! do,'
The preacher heard him. 1t seemed
that his features were familiar, and his
voice was not strange.
"Oh, doctor, | do not care for books
when struggling men AMI weak women
| and tender children are to be uplifted. |
do not wish for fame. | do not look for
| success, measured by "A large congrega-
ton, a princely salary and n growing
reputation. would have that prophets
ideal realized in my life. Let the spirit
| OF God rest upon me, however lowly my
norton. the spirit Of wisdom and under
standing. Let me not judge after the
| sight Of my eyes, nor reproye after the
| hearing of my ears. These words OF
| Isaiah always occur 10 me, doctor. mado
| them the text Of my graduation sermon at
| the seminary a few weeks ago. -
His graduation sermon, - thought tho
/ preacher. "Why. it was my very text
when 1 ~graduatedp'
"Oh, DOCTOR doctorr' the young man
| cried, as the tears started in his eyes,
pardon my impulsiveness. | do not WISH
| TO be faithless to my ideal. SO many start
| well aud fol. | 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 Lowelf
The Lord wants reapers; Oh. mount up
Before night comes aud says. Too later
STAY not Tor taking scrip Of cup,
The Master hungcis while ye wait.
''Those ~lines-those lines" said the
preacher to himself; they were always in
| my memory. Why do hear them now
| Have | waited for scrip or cup While the
| Master has hungered;'
II know no greater curse, doctor" con-
| tinued the young man, with his cheeks all
| afame with enthusiasm, than 10 have
| my unfulflled ideal rebuke me rs J grow
| old. To have the specter of the unreal
| lied around me; to hear the accusing voice
of opportunity misspent and advantages
~misapplied; to feel that ! have been dis
loval and co%wardly, and bent only on my
own advancement while religion has hun
gered-the thought would drive me wild.
And / have come TO you, good sir, for
kindly counsel Tell me what ! shall do.
You %sympathize with me. You, too,
once were young like myself"
you have ONE to me-to me-for
counsell' the preacher exclaimed, rising
from his chair and advancing. do you
know how faithless | have been 10 my
youths ideali Oh, spare me-spare
me-
The preacher awoke. Was it but a
revery. after ALL Had his youth come
back TO accuse him, like in Jean Paul
Richter's dream
Edith Edith he exclaimed, tearing
aside the curtain, and folding her, as she
came, III a passionate embrace. Edith
Edith you shall never sigh again. 1t IS
still day for US. II is not too late, thank
GOd!i
He told her of his wrestling 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, hi:
work grew 10 lovelier and more enduring
proportions. Rev. A. 5. Isaacs IN Harp
er's Bazaar.