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the dark valley of trouble, he says, "Arise, shine, thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is rifen on thee." To the disciple of Jesus this light indeed belongs, and much he needs it in his pilgrimage. To him it is given by promife. To the upright there arifeth light in darkness; light is fown for the righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart. The light of knowledge, the light of confolation, the light of holiness, and the light of eternal glory, are the Christian's inheritance, in and through Chrift Jefus. Without Christ all is darkness, wretchedness, and death. With Him all is Light, Life, Love, and Peace.

Stephen was a good man, yet he had to pafs through the valley of tribulation. Perhaps he was more highly favoured than any other man in fimilar circumftances; probably this was on account of his being the first Christian martyrthe model for all fucceeding martyrs. He looked up through the clouds of perfecution that furrounded him, and faw "the glory of God and Jefus;" he could not keep filent; "Behold," he cried, "I fee the heavens opened, and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God." The glorious light fhone in him, and through him, and around him; he looked as an angel of the Lord.

In darkest shades, if He appear,
My dawning is begun!

He is my foul's fweet morning ftar,
And he my rifing fun.

The opening heavens around me shine
With beams of facred blifs,
While Jefus fhows his heart is mine,
And whispers, I am his !

My foul would leave this heavy clay,
At that tranfporting word,
Run up with joy the shining way,
To embrace my dearest Lord.



"He heapeth up riches, and knoweth not who fhall gather them."-Ps. xxxix. 6. "A rich man fhall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven."-MATT. xix. 23.


Lo! where the worldling, with his gathering rake,
Performs his task, the glittering duft to take;
Devoted man! with many cares oppreffed,
Gold he collects, to eafe his aching breast.
The fool's infignia he most truly bears,
He but increases what he mostly fears:
As dropfied patients, who with thirst are faint,
Drink and are dry, and strengthen their complaint.
While in this grovelling, melancholy plight,
Religion comes, a meffenger of light;

Mercy's bleft Angel has from heaven come down,
She meets the worldling and prefents her crown;
"Behold," fhe cries, the diadem I bear,

Enriched with gems fuch as bright Angels wear,
Yield then to me, first lay thy muck-rake down,
Bear thy brow upward, and receive my crown."
The worldling, ftupid, toils and rakes away;
Still looking down, he rakes from day to day;

Himself his foe he lives, and greatly poor;
And dies remembered as a fool-no more.

THE engraving represents a man hard at work; he holds a rake in his hand, with which he gathers duft and rubbish together. The yellow fhining duft is called gold; he is altogether abforbed, loft, as it were, in his employment. He kneels down to his work; this fhows his devotion to the object of his affections. For this grovelling work he has forfaken all intellectual and religious pleasures; all focial and domeftic happiness. He is a poor man, although he has a great deal of that hard fhining duft you fee lying there; he is craving after more; he is in want, therefore he is poor; he is a miser, therefore he is miferable. The poor man is altogether befide himself.

The bright lovely one bearing a starry crown is Religion, daughter of the skies; she has many attendants, who are concealed at prefent; fhe has come a long way to meet the poor man; fhe looks upon him with compaffion; fhe fees his miferable condition, fhe knows his great folly. Addreffing him, fhe fays: "Poor foul, why labour you for the duft which perifheth? Why do you spend your strength for nought? Hearken unto me and I will give you riches, more abundantly than earth can give, and lafting as eternity. Look up, poor man, behold this crown, beautiful and glorious; it contains the riches of a million of fuch worlds as this, and the happiness of ages upon ages; throw by your rake, and be happy."


Worldling, for that is the name of the infatuated mortal, takes no notice whatever. He still continues at his task; there is no voice nor any regard; and Religion, after waiting a long time, departs and leaves him to his folly.

They that will be rich-though by means ever fo fair-fall into temptation and a fnare, which drown men in perdition. Youth, beware! when men neglect to employ the talent of wealth according to the will of God, he gives them up to the love of it, and they become fools, intoxicated with the alcohol of mammon. The worldling lives in the world as though he was never to quit it. Bound for eternity, he makes no preparation for the voyage-going to the Judgment, and before a holy God-and continues unrepentant and polluted. He is treafuring up, what?— gold; what else? wrath against the day of wrath. The love of money, an evil disease, has taken hold upon him; the more he adds, the more he feeds the disease; like persons with the dropfy, who drink and are ftill dry. When Garrick, the actor, fhowed Dr. Johnfon an eftate he had lately purchased, Johnson remarked: "Ah! it is these things that make death dreadful." But the love of money makes life miferable. The Roman citizen, Apicius, after spending fome 800,000 pounds, and finding he was worth only about 83,000, fearing want, ended his life by poison.

But the worldling heapeth up riches, and knows not who will gather them. Cupidus, with great labour, accumulated a great eftate,

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