Let us be faithful
to home, that when we leave it, and when the members of it leave us, we
may delight in all the memories which loom up from the scenes of home-life:
"Oh, friends regretted, scenes forever dear,
Remembrance hails you with her burning tear!
Drooping she bends o'er pensive fancy's urn,
To trace the hours which never can return;
Yet with retrospection loves to dwell,
And soothe the sorrows of her last farewell!"
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE ANTITYPE OF THE CHRISTIAN HOME.
"Oh, talk to me of heaven! I love
To hear about my home above;
For there doth many a loved one dwell
In light and joy ineffable.
"O! tell me how they shine and sing,
While every harp rings echoing,
And every glad and tearless eye
Beams like the bright sun gloriously.
"Tell me of that victorious palm,
Each hand in glory beareth;
Tell me of that celestial calm,
Each face in glory weareth!"
The Christian home on earth is but a type of his better home in heaven. The
pious members feel the force of this. Every thing within their earthly
homes reminds them of that happy country which lies beyond the Jordan.
Besides, they behold the impress of change upon every aspect of their home.
All that is near and dear to them there is passing away. It is but the
shadow of better things to come. And as the type bears some resemblance to
that which it typifies, we may understand both by considering the relation
they sustain to each other.
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