Year: 1875

We should be glad to know to
whom credit should be given for the
beautiful thoughts so eloquently writ
ten out below


"On December hight, after the
little brood were all abed, a mother
sat thinking over what she had ac-
complisl,ed in the last year. To her
it seemed to have been one of fruit.
less effort, broken and disjointed She
had done nothing but keep the house
and family, and even this seemed to
have been but indiflerently done.
Yearnings she had for something bet
ter, to be conscious of some unity of
purpose, some comfortable assurance
of what was duty.


That night in her dreams she was
traversing vast plain, where no trees
were visible save those that skirted
the distant horizon, with a wreath of
golden clouds resting upon their tops
Before her, travelling towards that
distant light, was female with little
children about her, sometimes in her
arms, sometimes at her side, and as
she journeyed on she busted herself
caring for them. Now she soothed
them when weary, now she taught
them how to travel, and now she
warmed them of the pitfalls and
stumbling-blocks in the way. She
talked to them Of that golden light
which she kept constantly in view
and toward which she seemed hasten.
ing with her little flock


But what was most remarkable
all unknown to her, on two golden
clouds floating above her reposed two
angels. Before each was a COLDER
book and pen of gold. One ange
with mild and loving eyes peerel
constantly over the right shoulder
and the other over the left. They
followed her from the rising to th,
setting of the sun; they watched
every word and look and deed, nc
matter how trivial. When it was
good, the angel over the right shoul
der, with glad smile, wrote it dowl
in his golden book i; when evil, how
ever slight, the angel over the lef
shoulder wrote it down in his book


He kept his sorrOwful eyes upon her
until he found penltence for the evil


then he dropped tear upon his rec
ord and blotted it out. and both an
gels rejoiced.


"TO the lOOkers-on it seemed tha
the traveller did little worthy of suct
careful record. Sometimes she die
but bathe the weary feet of her chill
dren, yet that was recorded in th,
golden book sometimes she did bu


wait patiently to lure back some littl


truant who had taken step in th


wrong direction, and that. too, wa


sci down by the angel over the righ,
Sometimes, with he. eyes fixed upol


the golden horizon, she became S,


intent on her own PROCESS as to lie


the little pilgrims at her side Ian


gushing or stray; then the ange


over the left shoulder wrote it dow
in his book, but followed her wit


sorrOwing ewes, seeking to blot it Ou
if, wishing to hasten on her journey
, she left the little ones behind, tina
Y too, the sOrrowing angel recorded.
T "The sympathies of the dreame
! were warmly excited for the travele
n and with beating heart she quicker
A ed her steps. that she might Overtak
= her, tell her what she had seen, el
treat to be watchful, faithful, and p
. q tent Of her life's work, for she ha
. herself seen that its results would a
y e known when these golden bool
ir should be unclasped. Eager TO wal
'r her Of this, she gently touched be
=, ~ The traveller turned, and she reco
y, nized. or seemed to recognize, herself
ir 1t may and it may not be that Il
IN angels keep such record as this. b.
al it is certain that every act of Il
'e mother is written upon the heart


the child and reflected in bis face al
a character. That is the golden boz
is in which all mothers are evermo
d. writing, not with literal golden pc
ut but with little deeds of kindne:


little words of love"