Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1904-10-08

beautiful parable of the good Samari
tan. They have been declaring that
mans neighbor belongs not to the
family which lives next door to him.
The only ncighbor who has claims he
would recognize IS the wife or child
who lives within the four walls of his
own house. He has been asserting that
mans chief duty in life Is to himself
and his own.
Can any good come out Of such a
NAZARETH" once read of u great
conqueror invading country of the
far east. One day he entered temple
where stood an idol so beautiful that
not one of his followers was willing to
destroy it. With an oath, the conquer
or said. IF you will not obey my COM
mands l will destroy 1t myself" He
lifted his battleaX. AS he raised him
self i'm his stirrups-for he had ridden
his horse into the temple-with n
mighty blow he shattered the idol into
a thousand pieces. Then. to his fol-
lowers surprise. he revealed the fact
that the inside of the idol was not a
vacuum. 1t had been filled with thou
sands upon thousands of golden coins.
which as lava bed burst from the
broken statue and rolled to the feet of
the western iconoclast. The iconoclast
who destroys the beautiful image of
charity and benevolence may think
that he, too. will be able to grasp the
wealth which it pours forth on the
needy and the suffering. but he will
be disappointed. The economy which
refuses to give help to those who need
proves Il canker to prosperity, and
those who withhold their charity come
to poverty. The command is that he
who loves God loves his brother also,
and the converse is true that he who
does not love his brother proves that
he does not love his God.
The Golden Rule with our ancestors
was a practically and not mere the
DRY. "Where are you going tonight.
mOther!" the father often asked. You
look tired. You ought not to be going
out tonight" Il know it," she would
say. but / must go. Our neighbor Is
very sick. am afraid she will not get
and spend the night with her. l have
fixed everything for breakfast. If
do not get back in time in the morning.
you can get along somehow"
The daintiest delicacies ever cooked
In the mothers stove were not for the
growing boys, with healthy. vigorous
appetites. They We're for the poor con-
MI 81 hn ,;S
day after day upon the neighbours We
randa in the noon sun. smiling at us
rs we trudged away to school. My.
how we cast longing eyes at those jel-
lies. We then ut times almost wished
we could he sick. ut least for n little
while. to get taste of them. And
how warm and comfortable the nit
tens looked which mother knitted for
the poor children living over the hill.
And when the farmer who lived down
In the valley was Frustrated with ty-
phoid fever and lay for month. hover
ing between life and death, don't you
remember how your father and the
neighbors took turns blowing his fields
and sowing his grain and getting in
his harvests? They say that that sick
man was once strong athlete. How
ever that may be. when upon his sick
bed he heard what his neighbors had
done and how they had kept the wolf
Of hunger from his door he cried like
little child. He became just such a
sick man as Ralph Conner depicted I'm
one of his backwoods tales.
Then the funerals of our fathers and
fOrefathers. They never allowed neigh
Dor to be buried like dog or friend
less pauper. as sometimes we do. No.
They literally practiced the gospel rule:
1T is better to go to the house of
mourning than to the house of feast
ing" When their neighbors wept, they
wept. When their neighbOrs were
lowered into their open graves. they
themselves held the ropes that gently
let down the collins. Was not their
way better than our way? We live
and breathe only for self Was not
the Christian helping hand our fore
fathers extended to the troubled ones
in their midst better than the icy
stare with which we regard our neigh
bors? We grumble in a street car be-
cause we have to wait for two min
utes while funeral procession, wend-
ing its way to the cemetery. is holding
us ut crossing. The Golden Rule
which our forefathers practiced should
never be allowed to slip out of our
lives. The sick man who lives next
door to us should be just as carefully
cared for and nursed by US as if he
was our own son.
Clubhouse Versus Home.
I deplore also the iconoclasm which
IL robbing this country of the sanctity
of home life. The iconOclast's prOfane
hands are ruthlessly laid upon our an
cestors' Sabbath observance and our
forefathers' doctrine OF do to others
as you would have them do unto you"
They go further than this Those same
profane hands are also snatching away
our ancestral home enjoyments as well.
They are saying to modern man: Man,
do not be an old fashioned granny DO
not think because your grandfathers
found most of their enjoyment in the
society of your grandmothers and Your
,pelac anI annts fhat vnt. haCa tn finI