"Thou bringest fond memories of a gentle girl, Like passing spirits in a summer night! Oh, precious curl!" And that picture of a departed mother which the orphan child presses with holy reverence to her bosom! As she gazes upon those familiar features, and reads in them a mother's love and kindness, what scenes of home-life rise upon the troubled thought, and what echoes of love come through the lapse of years from the old homestead, touching all the fires of her soul, and causing them to thrill with plaintive sadness and with painful joy. What mementoes of a sad, yet pleasing memory are found in the chamber of bereavement, where death has done his work; the empty chair; the garments laid by; playthings idly scattered there;--these are pictures upon which the eye of memory rests with pensive meditation. And our letters from home! What sweet recollections they awaken as we read line after line; and what volumes of love they contain from those dear ones who now moulder in the narrow vaults of death! Oh, how miserable must he be who has no recollections of home, who is not able to revert to the scenes of childhood, and amid whose cherished memories of life, the image of a mother does not glow! Let us lay the foundation of a joyful, grateful memory. 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. We may gain a new view of the Christian home by looking at it in the light of its typical relation to heaven; and we have a transporting view of our heavenly home when we contemplate it as the antitype of our home on earth.