Peninsula enterprise. [volume] (Accomac, Va.) 1881-1965, 1905-08-12

nave looked ike MS BrandIhtner Ol
great grnndfather2 II | inherit my
physical traits from my grandfather
and he in turn from his grandfather
why, In the same way, cannot trace
back my spiritual nature and those
higher yearnlngs after the better and
noblsr life and my holier desires-tract
them back generation after generation
to some remote progenitor? Why can
not hear that faroff voice pleading
with me to be good and true? Jack
Londons noble st. Bernard dog heard
'The Call Of the Wild" pleading with
him TO become a wolfish king, to lead
on his hungry pack to destroy the elk
or !he moose caught In the northern
SHOWS My friends, we, too, may hear
the uirange ancestral voices within us.
We k1ow that the voices OF our Chris
tian forefathers and foremothers, per-
haps a hundred years dead, are now
calling to us to live the Christ life and
TO walk with God Yoices-myriads of
volces-are about us. voices celestial,
voices demOniacal. ancestral voices
which call US up as well as evil voices
which call us down!
AS we place the palms Of our hands
as sounding boards back of our ears
we may hear other strange voices call
Ing Us TO the higher life. At first we
cannot make out what these voices
lre. We are In doubt whether we are
listening to silence itself or to voices
crying from long distance. We are
In doubt whether we hear any real
youpd, just as we used to be when, as
boys, we would place our ears close
to the railroad track to hear the rum
bling Of the oncoming train. At first
we would hear faint murmur, the
hum Of the rail, but the train would
come nearer and the rumbling would
grow louder and louder. So, when we
place our ears close to the side Of the
cradle, we seem to hear the voices Of
childhood days, the parental voices OF
the old homestead. These In chorus
are sounding "The Call Of the Good"
How long, how very long ago, in child
hood days, those voices first sounded!
Calls to the Higher Life.
How many years back can you re-
member those voices Of childhood?
"Oh," you answer, 81 can remember
back twenty, thirty, forty years ago.
l can remember clear back to the time
when was five years of age. l re-
member when my father sold his farm
and went to town and became a store
keeper. We had big yellow cat on
that farm, which was my playmate.
/ wanted to take that cat along to
town, but mother would not let me.
When ali the children, Of whom l was
the youngest, were piled into the wag-
on to leave the old house, | cried so
hard that mother at last relented and
said could take the cat. l remember
how | held that cat in my arms and
carried her to our city house" What,
cannot you remember farther back
than that? Oh, yes, you can, my broth
er l think today you can hear strange
"Voices of the Good" calling you to the
better life, which were whispered In
prayer over your cradle. Perhaps to-
day you can hear parental voices,
pleading with you for the better life,
which were whispered over you on the
day after you were born.
Many years ago when the Massaehu-
sets hills were covered with forests
and in the dark recesses Of the woods
the smoke from the Indian wigwams
was seen by the pilgrim colonlsts three
little white children were stolen away.
Searching party after searching party
went forth, but the lost could not be
found. Many years after there came a
rumor to the coast that three young
maidens were living with an Indian
tribe In the interior Of the state. The
father and mother of one Of these sto-
len children went to this tribe, but
when they arrived there they could not
tell their own daughter from the other
white maidens. Their daughter was
stolen when a baby; now she was a
grown girl. Finally the mother sat
down under a tree and began to sing
the old lullaby with which she used to
Groom her darling to sleep. No sooner
did the mother begin to sing that lula
by than one Of the young girls stopped
In her work to listen. Then she crept
up nearer and nearer to the singing
woman. Then with a bound she ran
and placed her head in the white won.
ans lap and in the Indian dialect sob |
bed "Motherl My mother! My lost |
Ind found mother" Ah, yes, 1t was the |
voice Of the cradle that called her to |
ler mothers side And so today you |
and | hear strange voices that are |
THE Call of the Good" They /
are the voices of prayer, Of love, Of
tenderness with which our mothers and |
our fathers gave US to God when we |
we're very little children. Friends, can
lot you hear these voices? Just put !
your hand TO the back Of your ear and |
n Gods name listen. Yes, those voices, |
hose loving voices, those voices of pa
'ental prayer, of early childhood, ut
cred perhaps over our cradles, are now
falling Us to the higher life.
The Call of the Living.
But we do not have to listen to "The
Call Of the Good" In echoes alone. We
10 not have to hear this call to the
'etter life simply in the voices of dead
ncestors and In parental pleadings
nd the wooings of childhood hours.
We can hear it also in the good deeds
4 the consecrated men and women
vho are conspicuous everywhere
round us. All, how many we can
ear If we are only willing to open
ur ears and listen to them!
Nobilities and sacrifices Of human
lie for the good Of their fellow men
re everywhere sounding enter the
hysician's office, and what do find?
Mean, contemplate, selfish and blood
hirsty vampires" says some cynic.
The doctors, as a class, will not only
rain Won Of vour blood hut they will |