Do you say, "My money is my own; I may use it as I please?" Hark! God thunders, "Thy gold and thy silver is mine." Will you trifle with Jehovah's voice, and incur his righteous wrath? Hear the terrible denunciations of James: "Go to, now, ye rich men, weep, and howl for your miseries that shall come upon you. Your riches are corrupted, and your garments are moth-eaten. Your gold and silver is cankered; and the rust of them shall be a witness against you, and shall eat your flesh as it were fire." Absorbed in the pursuits of gain, or whirling on your glittering rounds of pleasure, you may heedlessly disregard the appeals of distressed humanity, and proudly congratulate yourselves on your exalted positions, your honors and flatteries; but, rely upon it, you are only heaping "treasure together for the last day." Every call of charity from which you turn coldly away will be a drop of anguish to your undying soul. How trifling your gifts to the Lord, compared with the vastly greater sacrifices of many far poorer than yourself, and whom, perhaps, you now despise. When these shall shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father, where, O, where will you be found? O, how will all that affluence in which you have garnered up your hopes appear, when hearing the voice of your Final Judge, "Inasmuch as you did it not to one of the least of these my brethren, ye did it not to me;" and bereft of your treasures and your hopes together, you find the prison of despair a dread reality, where covetousness will eternally work without restraint, and unrelieved; a fire shut up in the soul, agonizing it evermore?