Peninsula enterprise. [volume] (Accomac, Va.) 1881-1965, 1902-11-08
NUr1BER I8

TOOul, WueTe lulS AulcIlNIh SVhtNI1dh
sat. Then Talleyrand SAID: "Slr,
have been exiled from France, and ex-
pect to cross the sea and nye in Ameri-
ca. | hear that you are an American
gentleman. Therefore craved an in
teryiew to ask you TO give me a few
letters of introduction to some OF your
friends in New York city" With that
the gentleman laughed horrible
augh As he retreated toward the door
he said: mo, Mr.. Talleyrand. l
cannot give you any letters TO my
friends in America. The reason is
that l have no friends in Amer
lea. | am the only man today
who was born in America, and who
has shed his blood for freedom, who
has not one friend in all America. NV
name, sir, is Benedict Arnold. | am
Major General Arnold Of his majesty's
service. | am Benedict Arnold, the
traitor" AS Benedict Arnold's youth
full sin followed him to his grave, so the
sin into which the youthful CONNER
cial traveller falls follows him to tho
grave. Oh, my young friends who
spend most of your life upon the rond.
l beg Of you to seek divine help ari
pray and continue to pray that yon
may overcome the daily temptations CT
the commercial travellers life.
How to Overcome sin.
would plead with each one Of yc,l
to consecrate yourself to the Divi@r
Masters service. so that you may over
come the besetting sins of life sv'' I'd
from home. You are not at hoa;
bad man. You have many tcndci tifs
which ought to bind you to a l.fe oi
purity and truth. In all probability
you have the same kind OF home Il -
as had the commercial traveller | orc
met upon the road. 1t was during q
long, tiresome journey. Toward thn
evening hour, as 1t gradually began ,
darken, closed my book and began
TO think about the mother Of my chill
dren and the little babies at home. |
said to myself "Ycs. the little white
nightgowns are now about TO be put
on; yes. they must be saying their
prayers about now; yes, | can almost
hear them say, God bless papa and
mammal" Then, looking across the
aisle, saw young man about my
own age open his satchel. He took
out Of that satchel little paper pack
age He began to unfasten the cord.
Then he exposed to view three or four
photographs and began to look long
and earnestly at them. | crossed the
aisle. Putting my hand upon the
young mans shoulder. | said. We'll
old fellow. have a wife and some ba-
bies too" Have your he answered
as his face lighted up with a smile.
Would you like to see miner Then
we talked about home. Then his eyes
became moist when he laughingly and
yet pathetically said. Let me show
you a letter | received this morning
from my baby" He held up an old
crumpled brown piece Of paper. over
which a little child's chubby finger
had scrawled n lot Of hleroglyphlcs,
which writing looked like lot Of hen
tracks In barnyard. Then turned
and said, You ought to he a good man
with such a family Of little ones"
eyes" he answered. II know | should.
and, do you know, feel that II 1t was
not for my lovely, consecrated home
md my wife's prayers and the thought
that my little children are every night
praying for me | might yield to the
many temptations of a commercial
travellers life. But every time | start
to do wrong my little children's arms
seem to cling about my neck as they
cry: Don't, papa. For your dear little
babies sake. don't SIM"
And so in that evening hour. as the
rain was speeding toward my destina-
ton for lecturing, felt as feel now.
felt that, though the average com.
merclal traveller has many sins bcset-
ting him. yet he is armored and bell
neted from the attacks Of temptations
" his absent loved ones prayers. The
average commercial traveller ought to
De true to his gospel faith when God
las given to him lovely, consecrated.
Christian home. Oh, ye knights CT the
grip, will you be true to the Christ
Who is pleading with you today to
,ow at his feet? VIII you be true to
Tesus on account Of the prayers Of
our loved ones even If your conscience
ellis you that no prayer is so apprO-
Driate for you as that Of the publican,
which you can utter in your own be-
alf?
copyright. 1902 Louis Klopsch. y. ~