o determine it.

Listen now to the answer: "He said, This will I do: I will pull down my
barns, and build greater," &c. This is the turning-point, and on it the
poor man turns aside into error. When God's goodness was showered upon
him in such abundance, he should have opened his treasures and permitted
them to flow: for this end his riches had been bestowed upon him. When
rain from heaven has filled a basin on the mountain-top, the reservoir
overflows, and so sends down a stream to refresh the valley below: it is
for similar purposes that God in his providential government fills the
cup of those who stand on the high places of the earth--that they may
distribute the blessing among those who occupy a lower place in the
scale of prosperity.

But self was this man's pole star: he cared for himself, and for none
besides. Self was his god; for to please himself was practically the
chief end of his existence. He proposed to pull down his barns, and
build a larger storehouse on the site, in order that he might be able to
hoard his increasing treasures. The method that this ancient Jewish
self-seeker adopted is rude and unskilful. We understand better the
principles of finance, and enjoy more facilities for profitably
investing our savings: but the two antagonist principles retain their
respective characters under all changes of external circumstances--the
principle of selfishness and the principle of benevolence; the one
gathers in, the other spreads out.

The method of reserving all for self, is as unsuccessful as it is
unamiable: it cannot succeed. The man who should hoard in his own
granary all the corn of Egypt, could not eat more of it than a poor
labourer--probably not so much. It is only a very small portion of their
wealth that the rich can spend directly on their own personal comfort
and pleasure: the remainder becomes, according to the character of the
possessor, either a burden which he is compelled to bear, or a store
whence he daily draws the luxury of doing good.

The dialogue proceeds: the man has something more to say to his soul:
"Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years," &c. He counts on
riches and time as if both were his own, and at his disposal. The big
barn is not yet built; the golden grain that shall fill it has not yet
been sown: and even although no accident should mar the material portion
of the plan, how shall he secure the "many years" that constitute its
essence on the other side? D