It was thus with the prodigal son. As soon as he came to
himself, he remembered the dear home of his youth, the kind love of his
father, and his own unworthiness and ingratitude; and this brought him to
repentance and to the resolution to return to his father, confess his sin,
and seek pardon. How many now, in thus looking back upon the home of their
childhood, do not remember their abuse of parental love and kindness!
"Oh! in our stern manhood, when no ray
Of earlier sunshine glimmers on our way;
When girt with sin and sorrow, and the toil
Of cares, which tear the bosom that they soil;
Oh! if there be in retrospection's chain
One link that knits us with young dreams again--
One thought so sweet we scarcely dare to muse
On all the hoarded raptures it reviews;
Which seems each instant, in its backward range,
The heart to soften, and its ties to change,
And every spring untouched for years to move,
It is--the memory of a mother's love!"
We see, therefore, that there are painful, as well as pleasant, memories of
home. When the absent disobedient child remembers how he abused the
privileges of the parental home, and brought the gray hairs of his parents
down with sorrow to the grave, and turned that household into a desolation;
when
"Pensive memory lingers o'er
Those scenes to be enjoyed no more,
Those scenes regretted ever,"
how dark and painful must be the shadows which then sweep over his penitent
spirit! "If thou art a child, and hast ever added a sorrow to the soul or
a furrow to the silvered brow of an affectionate parent; if thou art a
husband, and hast ever caused the fond bosom that ventured its whole
happiness in thy arms, to doubt one moment of thy kindness or thy truth; if
thou art a friend, and hast ever wronged the spirit that generously
confided in thee; if thou art a lover, and hast ever given one unmerited
pang to that true heart that now lies cold and still beneath thy feet; then
be sure that every unkind look, every ungracious word, every ungentle
action, will come thronging back upon thy memory; then be sure that thou
wilt lie down sorrowing and penitent on the grave!"
If we would avoid the agony of declining age, let us be faithful to our
childhood-home.
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