This is its most lovely feature. Tell me, is there not a bond of sympathy between Jesus and His people here,—between loved ones in heaven and their pious kindred on earth? Do not the tears of the Christian home reflect the tears of Jesus? These are to the heart like the dews of Hermon,—like the dews that descended upon the mountains of Zion.
"No radiant pearl which crested fortune wears,
No gem that, sparkling, hangs from beauty’s ears,
Not the bright stars which night’s blue arch adorn,
Nor rising sun that gilds the vernal morn,
Shine with such luster as the tear that breaks
For others’ woe, down virtue’s lovely cheeks."
Is such, Christian brother, the sympathy of your home? It will be a safeguard against the follies and the false interests of life. It will restrict the fashionable taste and sentiments of the age. It will teach wisdom to the pious mother, and be a sure defense against the dangers and indiscretions of the nursery and fashionable boarding school. Under its influence, mothers will not trust the souls of their children to the guardianship of irreligious nurses, nor expose them to the perils of a corrupted and heartless fashion. They will deny themselves the ruinous pleasures of a gay and reckless association with the world; and with maternal solicitude, attend upon the opening of those buds of life which God has committed to them. The pious mother will wield her power over her children, by the force of this sympathy; for her’s is the deepest, purest, and most saving of all home-sympathy:
"Earth may chill
And sever other sympathies, and prove