The Iron Rule | Page 8

case where every feeling of his heart was at variance
with the command.
The struggle so early commenced between the father and his child, was
an unceasing one. The will of Andrew, which by other treatment might
have been bent to obedience, gained a vigor like the young oak amid
storms, in the strife and reaction of his daily life. Instead of drawing his
child to him, there was ever about Mr. Howland a sphere of repulsion.
Andrew was always doing something to offend his father; and his
father was in consequence always offended. A kind word from paternal
lips rarely touched the ears of the boy, and, but for the love of his
gentle mother, home would have been almost intolerable. Steadily,
against all opposition, chidings, and punishment, Andrew would seek
the company of his little friend Emily on every convenient occasion. To
avoid the consequences he would practice deception, and utter direct
falsehood without compunction or hesitation. At last, after a struggle of
two years, even the father became wearied and discouraged at the
perseverance of his child; and there came a suggestion to his mind, that
probably, to continue as he had been going on for so long a time, would
do more harm than good. It requires no little self-denial for a man like
Andrew Howland to yield in such a contention, and let the will of his
child remain unbroken. But, after a long debate with himself, his better
conviction triumphed over prejudice and the tenacity of a mind fixed in
its own opinions. He ceased to command obedience in the case of
Emily Winters, and therefore ceased to punish Andrew on her account.
Nevertheless, he rarely saw him in her company that the displeasure he
felt was not manifested by a frown, or some word that smote painfully
upon the ear of his child.
Possessing an active, independent mind, Andrew failed not to excite the
displeasure of his father in many ways. In fact he was always in
disgrace from some cause or other and the subject of angry reproof,
harsh judgment, or direct punishment. Often his conduct needed

reproof and even punishment; but he was the victim of such frequent
wrong judgment and unjust reproof and punishment, that by the time he
was eleven years of age, he looked upon his father more as a
persecuting tyrant than a kind parent, who sincerely desired his good.
An instance of wrong judgment and unjust punishment we will here
give.
As Andrew grew older and formed school boy associations, his
impulsive and rather reckless character brought him frequently into
collision with his companions, and he gained a reputation which was by
no means good. Every now and then some one would complain to Mr.
Howland of his bad conduct, when he, taking all for granted, would,
without investigation, visit the offence with severe punishment.
One day, when in his twelfth year, as Andrew was at play during a
recess in the school hour, a boy larger than himself made an angry
attack upon a lad much below him in size, and was abusing him
severely, when Andrew, acting from a brave and generous impulse, ran
to the rescue of the smaller boy, and, in a sudden onset, freed him from
the hands of his assailant. Maddened at this interference. the larger boy
turned fiercely upon him. But Andrew was active, and kept out of his
way. Still the larger boy pursued him, using all the while the most
violent threats. At length finding that he was likely to be caught and get
roughly handled, Andrew took up a stone, and drawing back his hand,
warned the boy not to approach. He continued to approach, however,
vowing, as he did so, that he would beat the life half out of him. True to
his word, and in self-defence, Andrew threw the stone, which struck the
boy full on the forehead and knocked him down. For some minutes he
lay stunned and half-insensible. Frightened at the consequences of his
act, Andrew sprung to the side of the fallen lad and tried to raise him up.
Failing in this he ran for the teacher, who was in the school-room. A
little cold water thrown into the boy's face revived him, when he went
home to his parents. The teacher made careful inquiries into the matter,
which satisfied him that Andrew was not very greatly to blame.
A short time after this occurrence, a gentleman entered the store of
Andrew's father, and said, with much excitement of manner,

"Mr. Howland! I've come to make complaint against that boy of yours."
"Against Andrew?"
"Yes, sir. He's nearly killed my son!"
"Bless me!" exclaimed Mr. Howland, in a distressed voice. "What has
happened? How did he do it?"
"Why, sir! without the slightest