The Evansville daily journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ia. [i.e. Ind.]) 1848-1862, 1853-01-10
THE. sfEp.MoTHER,s DREAM.

Martha Howett had succeeded, after much
trouble and confusion. in getting the children
started for school. There were four of them
under the age of ten years. Martha was no:
their mother. She had died two years before,
and for eighteen months these children had
been left to the care of such persons as the
father could get to keep his house. During
this time all family government had been SUBJ I
yerted; and the children, naturally active,
restless and impatient Of restraint, had &C
quired habits of disobedience, and a contempt
of all authority, which rendered their future
training exceedingly difficult. Martha had
entered the family as the wife ofther father,
with the determination to be a good morher
to these little orphans. They were pretty
and interesting, and she thought she could
love them and that it would be pleasant
task to train their young and tocile spirits in
the paths of wisdom and holiness But she had
had no conception ofthe task on which she
had entered. She was pnacquainted with the
children, and knew little of the "line upon
line and precept upon preeept," which is
necessary in training them; and when she
found them disobedient, se;f-willed, and uE-
grateful, she felt like giving up in despair.
She had succeeded, said, in getting the
children started for school. William, the
oldest, had refused to 60, preterring to join
party of boys who were going a-fishing; and it
was not till after he had been severely pun
ished that he had submitted to her authority.
1t was during this encounter that the boy had
told her she was like all step-mothers, a ty-
rant, and he meant to run away when he
should be a little older.
This remark had wounded her most deeply.
She seated herself in large armed chair COW
cred her face with her hands, and wept the
! bitterest tears which ever had been wrung
from her heart. Gradually she grew calm,
and then she resolved to examine herself
closely. She looked back over few months
during which she had the care of these young
immortals, and inquired il she had always
mingled frmness, wisdom, and tenderness in
all her conduct towards them. Had she
shown mothers forbearance towards their
faults, and the wafm and overfowing tender
ness by which mother controls and con-
quers the heart of her child! Her heart &C
cused her ofmany things. Not OF an inten-
ton to do wrong; but she had neglected, in
prayerful confidence, to seek help OF God in
this great work. She had not guarded her
own spirit, but had suffered the impotence
she felt TO manifest itselfin her actions. She
felt afraid that she h d especially failed il re-
gard TO the oldest. He was wafm-hearted
but impatient ant and highspirited Child, and
gave her more trorb!e than all the rest. She
sometimes felt something like aversion to-
wards him in her heart, and she acknowl-
edged to herself, that this might have often
shown itself in her manner and tone, if not in
words. With bitter advertisement, she
knelt and prayed for strength and wisdom
from above. She soseup with new purpose,
to devote her life 10 the work beforeher, but
with many misgivings, lest when she had
done all, her labor would be in vain.
i Exhausted by the intensity of her emotion,
she threw herself On bed, and soon wentto
sleep. She seemed to bestandng at the foot
OF high and rugged mountain, whose tbp,
above the clouds, was bathed in perpetual
sunshine, and glorious with the beauties of an
unfading spring. She saw on the side OF the
mountain, a straight and narrow path, Which
led directly to the top, hut entering il, or
crossing it in thousand directions, were
other paths, wirder and less precipitous, and
} seemingly more pleasant; bat as she traced
, their courses on the mountain side, she OBJ
r served that not one Of them Ted to the top;
some terminated in dark aud gloomy valleys,
where the rays oil the sun never seemed to
, fall; others n the verge of precipices, which
! overhung chasms, whose fearful depth the eve
5 could not measure.
/, She lifted her eyes towards the top of the
mountain, and raw amid the groves of ever.
green, trees loaded with delicate and fragan,
flowers, being Of angelic beauty, and heart
strains OF soft, enchanting music. She stood
, gazing with wonder and admiration on the
strange spectacle before her, when she fell
a soft hand touch her own, and looking down
e she saw her four children standing beside
1 her. Again she raised her eyes to the SUNNI,
5 of the mountain, and saw amid the shining
thfcng one whom she knew to be the mother
q of the little ones at her side. She fixed on
them look OF melting tenderness. mingled
with anxiety and sorrow; and then she hearc
her name, and bid her lead them up to her.
Immediately she resolved to commence
= the ascent. Calling the children, she pointed
f out to them the narrow way i'm which they
4 were to walk; but they could not see it. Sh.
directed their eyes to the top of the
mountain, and told them of all its glores
;, but they saw nothing. Then she entered The
t path and babe them follow her. She bro
0 ceeded short distance, and looking bacl
IT she saw that instead of obeying her, they
n were wandering On the side of the noun
4 tain, chasing the butterflies over slipper,
e sleeps, and gathering flowers ON the Drinks o
l. frightfu precipices.
IS A feeling of encouragement came owe
n her, and she was about 10 sit down il
It despair, when she raised glasce to the to-
), of the mountain, and beheId the mothe
st leaning forward with outstretched arms, ans
1t all the host Of shining ones regarded her witt
dee pest anxiety. She felt a new impulse
and bringing back the little wanderers from
Is their dangerous paths, with gentle care, sh
le placed their feet again in the narrow way
~ YEARLY and cautiously she proceeded upward
. sometimes leading them by the hand. some
Oh times carrying them in her arms up tn
steepest accents. iffor moniont she relaxe
at her vigilance, they were sure to turn asid