what word will all unman him, and make him a very child; and with quivering lip, and with loving forms floating before his teary vision, he will tell you it is home. Now, unite the two words, and you have the theme of our first picture, the subject of our first chapter, CHRISTIAN HOME.

The latter expresses all of tenderness and love; the former, all of benevolence and duty, made radiant with wisdom from above. Two richer, sweeter words cannot be united in our language; and each is made more expressive by its union with the other.

Let us consider them a moment. To be a Christian, in the high moral sense of that term, is to possess and cherish the various graces of soul and adornments of character recommended by Christ. It is to have 'the heart all imbued with an active benevolence, swayed, enlarged, elevated with a pure, lofty, and universal love, a love that reaches up to God in breathing devotions, and pours its soul in swelling gratitude at the fount of love omnipotent, at which the mortal flame is lighted, a love that throws its embracing arms around all human creatures, not forgetting even its enemies; that is so inwrought with moral rectitude, and spiritual force, that it enforces a cheerful obedience to the golden rule, compels the submission of the passions, and thoroughly irradiates with its bright sunlight every nook and corner of the heart. The moral altitude of

a soul thus imbued and swayed with Christian love

is vastly above the world. It lives in a region of pureness and brightness above the noxious vapors of earth, the malaria of selfishness and moral pollution, and grows every day more bright and strong by the workings of its own inherent forces. It resists passion and selfish desire as a duty. It seeks moral force to overcome evil, in solemn prayer at the throne of grace. It forms its resolutions for good on the knees in God's presence. The love that controls it is thoroughly and altogether a religious love. It is a love dictated by holy impulse, and sustained by enlightened duty. It is a love cherished by the will; resolutely cherished as the command of God, and the precept of Christ. In such a soul virtues grow as fruit upon a well-cultured tree. To be a Christian is to bear "the fruits of the spirit, love, joy, peace, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance ; to "add to faith virtue; and to virtue knowledge; and to knowledge patience; and to patience godliness; and to godliness brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness charity." Thus to be a Christian, is to cherish a sublime morality, pure as the driven snow, warm as the sunlight, and tender as a woman's love. This is the meaning of the word Christian.

HOME is scarcely less significant. To have a home is something more than to have a staying-place, a place where one can eat and sleep, and say he has a right against all the world; where no invading foot may tread; where none may venture to dispute

authority with its lord. Though all these prerogatives and privileges belong to home, they do not constitute that place and condition of the heart which is meant by the word home in its high and proper sense. A poet has said, ""Tis home where'er the heart is." And there is much significance in this beautiful expression. Where the heart's dear ones are, where it loves to linger and repose, where associations cluster, sweet with beautiful memories, where hopes in a bright train come tripping and, singing of "a good time coming," of happy days and lovelit faces yet to be enjoyed, where sweetness breathes as naturally as fragrance from a wild flower, — there, there is home. "'T is where the heart is." It is true, home is a place; but every place is not home. And every place which is called home is not home. The world is full of staying-places, but not so full of homes. There is many a gilded palace and seat of wealth, many a house of luxury and place of worldly comfort, that is a world-wide distance from home. People live there, and shine, and smile, but are far away from home. Their hearts long and pine for their homes, even if they are but humble cottages. Where affection rears its cottage or palace, prepares the frugal meal, and smooths the pillow of rest, where kind words are always spoken, and good offices always performed, where forgiving love and weeping sympathy are the guardian household gods, there is home. It is a place which rudeness would be ashamed to

enter; where an unkind word would be like a clap of thunder in a clear sky; where the impulses of passion are unhallowed intruders; where impatience, petulance, coarseness, vulgarity, reproach, slander, and all kindred evils, are like hawks in a dove-cot, or wolves in a sheep-fold; for, where such dwell, they drive away home. They never dwell in home. When they are in our dwelling-places, they turn out home. When they come in at one door, home goes out at the other. Into the heart's home they cannot intrude. Home, then, is affection's constant dwellingplace.

Now, make of every inmate of home a Christian, and you have the true idea of a Christian home. It is a place where love and duty are joined in matrimonial alliance; where affection is consecrated by the laying-on of the hands of religion; where tenderness kneels in prayer, joy melts in devotion; where natural love is subdued, chastened and elevated in Christian goodness.

The Christian apostle to the Gentiles, in his first epistle to his son Timothy, recommends that piety be shown at home. His recommendation he presents in nearly the strength of a command. What could be more reasonable than that piety should be shown at home, in the place where the heart lives; where young souls come into being; where the immortal parchment receives its first marks; where God's children are taught lessons which they can never forget;

and where men live and die? What more reasonable than that Christianity should be cultivated around the table and couch of home, where are entwined men's dearest interests; where the thousand fountains of the great stream of humanity are issuing forth to light? What more easily comprehended than the propriety of making religion the every-day guest of home? Is religion good? Then, where is it needed more than at home? The world will go on without religion; but can men's dwelling-places be real homes without religion? Agriculture will

plough and sow, and reap, without religion; but will natural love be that subdued, chastened, constant flame of tenderness it should be to make blessed, without it? Mechanism will ply her busy tool, and create her perpetual wonders of art, though religion be banished from earth; but will goodness be the presiding genius of home, without it? Commerce will fill her busy marts, and whiten her seas with sails, though religion be forgotten; but will virtue keep her pure watch around the hearth-stone, and duty be the strength and the pillar of safety in the sacred retreat of home, without it? No home is safe without a guardian. The interests of that sacred spot are so tender, the flowers around its doors and casements are so delicate, that they are injured even by a breath that has no right there. The home loves, although powerful in their strength, are strong only in their delicacy. They cannot bear the blast of