You can nowhere find more of heaven upon earth than in a Christian home.  Look at the picture:  A father with the Holy Bible, the mother and children listening in reverence to the heavenly message.  Where, I say, can you find more of heaven?  Such a scene is most sweet and sacred.  Methinks the angels bend low to catch the chants of praise that arise from those devoted hearts to the gates of heaven.  “Such a picture,” you may say, “is very beautiful and inspiring to look upon, but where is the reality?” Thank God, such a home can be real in life, and it is your duty as a Christian to help make it so.  God is pleased with such a home.  It is much to his praise.  Since such homes are so rare they are all the more glorifying to God, and we should strive the more earnestly to have them real.

In your home is the place to shine for God.  It is the place to shed forth the radiant beams of Christian light from your grace-ladened soul.  If you hope to prosper in the divine life, be your best at home.  Do not think you can be careless at home and then shine in the splendor of Christian virtue when before the public.  Your life at home leaves its mark upon you.  Shine in Christian beauty at home, and you will shine in beauty in public; but attempt away from home to be more than you are at home, and you will miserably fail.  A few years ago while in one of our large Eastern cities laboring for Jesus and souls for whom he died I wrote a few lines to the dear ones at home, which perhaps will not be out of place to insert here.

When the light of day is dying
  And the shades of night steal on,
Voices to my mem’ry whisper
  Of the dear loved ones at home.

Ere the chandelier is lighted,
  Ere the day’s last ray is gone,
O’er me comes a fond remembrance
  Of the dear loved ones at home.

Far above in arch of heaven
  Lamps are lighted one by one,
But I only see the bright eyes
  Of the dear loved ones at home.

Far away beyond the region
  Where I see those shining stars,
Somewhere in the land of angels,
  Dwells a little boy of ours.

Years ago one wintry evening
  Heaven’s gate was opened wide,
And an angel swift descended,
  With a sickle at his side.

Paused he at our boy’s low trundle
  In the evening twilight hour,
Caught away his happy spirit
  To its home beyond the stars.

How my heart adores the Giver
  Of all good o’er land and sea,
But I praise him more than ever
  For the dear ones left to me.

As I think of her he gave me
  In my happy youthful time,
How he bound our hearts together
  At love’s pure and sacred shrine;

As I think of her this moment,
  Given me by love divine,
Seems I almost feel the pressure
  Of her gentle hand in mine.

In the arms of night I’m folded,
  Soon in dreamland I shall roam;
Then I’ll go and see the dear ones—­
  See the dear loved ones at home.