There are those in which the father is not absorbed in business and the mother by fashion, where the servants are happy and attached members of the family, where daily prayer and cheerful work alternate with each other in order, where recreation does not degenerate into riot, nor work conduce to moroseness. Healthy exercise and early hours keep the doctor from the door, while constant industry repulses the proverbial visitor who always “finds mischief for idle hands to do.” The father is the genial companion of his children, and does not lose their respect by gaining their confidence; the mother is the guardian spirit of the household, the wise woman of the Proverbs, “whose children rose up and called her blessed; her husband, and he praised her.” Towards each other the husband and wife behave as they would before the angels of God, because they remember that he who scandalizeth “a little one” is accursed, and that the angel of “the little one,” who is there continually beside him and in some sort represents him in heaven, “beholds the face of the Lord.” The children are submissive, not through fear, but through _reason_ and love; for the acknowledged superiority of their elders has a rational force with them, and they think themselves honored in obeying those who are wiser than they. They have Jesus of Nazareth ever before their eyes—the Boy who, as he grew in years, “waxed strong in wisdom and grace,” and who, though he was God, “went down, and was subject to them.” This life, peaceful, orderly, religious, the life of the cloister translated into the home, is in itself education. Its holy influence is not confined to space or time, but will live in the hearts of the scattered family through youth and manhood to extreme old age. In fancy, they will be able to reconstruct that home; in spirit, to revisit it long after its dearest inmates shall have left it for their heavenly home, long after its material frame shall have passed away to other, perhaps to careless, hands. In their various resting-places, whether a new home, the daughter of that shrine, or only a rock just above the level of the sea of fortune, the hallowed remembrance will come back to them freighted with hope and strength for the future. Even in heaven, the Son of God is called Jesus of _Nazareth_, and can _we_ forget the home and the mother that made us what we are?