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.

The Christian home on earth is a tent-home, a tabernacle adapted to the pilgrim-life of God’s people, set up in a dreary wilderness, designed to subserve the purposes of a few years, as a preparation for a better home.  The Christian, amid all his domestic enjoyments, does not realize that his home is his rest, but that it is only a probationary state, the foretaste and anticipation of the rest that remaineth for the people of God.  It is but the emblem,—­the shadow of his eternal home; and it is, therefore, unsatisfying; it does not meet all the wants of our nature; there is a yearning after a better state; the purest happiness it affords proceeds from the hopes and longings it begets, and the interests it is transferring to eternity, laying up, as it were, treasures in a better home.  Our home here, develops our wants, inflames our desires, excites our expectations, educates, and points us to the realities of which it is an emblem; but it does not fully satisfy our desires, it only increases their intensity.  The pilgrim soul of the child of God pines and frets amid all