This is no over-wrought picture.  It is but the scripture prospectus of that terrible scene which shall be enacted “in the terrible and notable day of the Lord,” when every Christian home shall be called to give an “account of her stewardship,” and be dealt with “according to the deeds done in the body.”

And let me say too, that a similar and corresponding responsibility rests upon those children who enjoy the benefits of a faithful Christian home.  They must answer to God for every blessing there enjoyed.  If they turn a deaf ear and a cold heart to all the entreaties of their parents, and resist those saving influences which are brought to bear upon them, and as a consequence, become outcasts from society and from heaven, then let me warn them that, every prayer they heard at the family altar, every lesson given, every admonition delivered, and every holy example set them, by their pious parents, will be ingredients in that bitter cup which it will take eternity for them to exhaust!  Oh, children of the Christian home! think of this, and remember the responsibility of enjoying the precious benefits of a pious, faithful parent.  They will be your weal or your woe,—­your lasting glory or your lasting shame!

And, ye parents, be faithful to those little ones that are growing up “like olive plants around your table,” so that in the day of judgment, you may say with joy, in the full assurance of reward, “Here are we, Lord, and the children whom thou hast given us!” And your reward shall be, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant!  Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord!”

CHAPTER VIII.

The family bible.

  “What household thoughts around thee, as their shrine,
    Cling reverently!—­Of anxious looks beguiled,
  My mother’s eyes upon thy page divine,
    Each day were bent; her accents, gravely mild,
    Breathed out thy love; whilst I, a dreamy child,
  Wandered on breeze-like fancies oft away,
                    ...  Yet would the solemn Word,
    At times, with kindlings of young wonder heard
  Fall on my wakened spirit, there to be
    A seed not lost; for which in darker years,
    O, book of heaven!  I pour with grateful tears,
  Heart-blessings on the holy dead, and thee!”

The family bible!  What sweet and hallowed memories cling like tendrils around that book of books!  How familiar its sacred pages!  How often in the sunny days of childhood, we were fed from its manna by the maternal hand!  It was our guide to the opening path of life, and a lamp to the feeble, faltering steps of youth.  Who can forget the family bible?  It was the household oracle of our grandfathers and grandmothers,—­of our dear parents.  It bears the record of their venerated names; their birth, their baptism, their confirmation, their marriage, are here; and

  “Though they are with the silent dead,
  Here are they living still!”