should be brought to the house of Esrom, "in | righteous," whenever she entered upon its maraiment of needlework; the virgins, her compa-nagement. In its closet, she was sure to renew nions, following with gladness and rejoicing," had her communion with God!-at its family altar, more than divided her heart, even in the closet; sure to pray in the spirit? by its hearth in the and, in the synagogue, they often diverted it from evening, and under its fig-tree in the morning, both the word and worship of Jehovah. Shesh-sure to shake off from Esrom and herself, all the bazzar did not suspect this. He saw, indeed, that mildew of backsliding! Nothing of this, however, Rachel's preparations were upon a scale worthy was attempted in the mean time. All improveof her tribe and her parentage; and that her own ment, and penitence too, was postponed until taste would preside over every thing-from her Sheshbazzar should "sanctify the household" of own robes, to the veils of her maidens, and even the betrothed, upon his return from Jerusalem. down to the lamps and torches of the procession. But, before he returned, Rachel was become "A But why not? Who had such exquisite taste?LEPER, white as snow!" "Rachel is, indeed, troubled about many things," said the old man; "but her good sense is a pledge that nothing will be extravagant or vain. She is sure to adorn herself and others, only according to the manner of holy women of old. There may be "nets of checker-work and wreaths of chainwork" here and there in her arrangements, as around the pillars of the temple; but the crown of the whole, like the capitals of Jachin and Boaz, and the borders of the molten Sea, will be lily work;' the still grandeur of gracefulness, the calm majesty of meekness; as from the chisel of Hiram of Tyre."

Sheshbazzar did not know that Rachel had plunged into the bustle of preparation, in order to forget her penitential vows, and to hide from herself the backslidings of her own heart. And, had her heart still been what he supposed, he would have been more than justified in taking for granted, that she would plan and execute all things as in the sight of God. For, until Esrom's critical levity betrayed her devotional spirit, she could turn any series of domestic duties into a Bethel Ladder between earth and heaven. But, when she became a critic in the house of prayer, she soon lost her simplicity in the closet. At first, she was shocked on discovering, that unhallowed associations of the ludicrous or frivolous, were blending themselves with phrases which once breathed her holiest feelings. Then, she could not use, in the closet, expressions she had blamed, or smiled at, in the synagogue. Then, she sat musing in silence about prayer, instead of kneeling before the Lord with supplication. At length, she became equally ashamed and afraid to be alone with God!

Thus Rachel's heart condemned her, and to escape from its censures, she filled her hands, to overflowing, with the duties of her betrothment; leaving neither time nor thought for any thing beyond the ceremonials of religion. She fasted without humility, and worshipped without love, except when Sheshbazzar presided. And even then, he was often to her, only "as one that playeth well upon an instrument."

All this process and result of spiritual defection she concealed from him. She tried to persuade herself that, like the cloud which had occasionally come over her spirit, before she knew the Lord; and which, when it passed off, left her more cheerful than it had found her; so this hiding of the Divine presence would only be temporary, and enhance the brightness of the Candle of the Lord, when it should shine upon her own tabernacle: for she had vowed, that the house of Esrom and Rachel should be in all things "the tabernacle of the

No symptoms of this awful malady had shown itself, when Sheshbazzar left Beersheba. He had marked the throb of her veins, and felt her hand burn, and seen the hectic flush and the pallid hue succeed each other on her cheek, without increasing or diminishing the strange glaze of her eyes: but he dreamt not of leprosy. There was no "bright spot in the skin," and no "whiteness in the hair ;" and thus, although he parted from her with a heavy heart, it was mental, not bodily, disease he foreboded; and that fear, he was too wise to utter or betray. He blessed Rachel, in the name of the Lord, and placed himself as usual at the head of his brethren, to conduct them to Zion.

Sheshbazzar exemplified at Jerusalem, the spirit of his favorite maxim: he shook the mulberry trees of every typical ordinance, and prophetic promise. He was the first, daily, at the morning sacrifice, and the last to retire from the evening sacrifice: the first at the altar of burnt-offering, and the last at the altar of incense. When the Levites walked in procession around the altars, waving the palms of Judah, and sounding the silver trumpets of the GREAT HOSANNA, no vocal hosanna, amongst the thousands of Israel, swelled above Sheshbazzar's. Like the eagle mounting upon the summits of Gerrizzim, the old man seemed to renew his youth, whilst thus waiting upon the God of his fathers in Zion. When his fellowpilgrims could distinguish him in the great congre gation, or at the waters of Siloa. they saw, froin his looks, that he was shaking the mulberry-trees, and like the fleece of Gideon, was saturated with the dew of heaven.


When the Iom Hacchipurim ended, they prepared to return to Beersheba; and Sheshbazzar was, as usual, their guiding pillar in the wilderness. "We have been, my children, like the spies," he said, "searching the land of promise; what have we to show at home as the fruit of it? Grapes, or wild gourds? Not the latter, I am quite sure! But, have we cut such a cluster of the grapes of Eschol, as to require two men to carry it between them on a staff? Or have we merely an untimely fig, and an unripe pomegranate, hanging at our girdle? We ought not to carry home a bad report of the goodly land. There were large and ripe clusters on Mount Zion: what can we show as the fruit of it? A spirit, meek as the lily of the valley, fragrant as the rose of Sharon, and pure as the waters of Siloa? It ought to be so. who tarried at home will expect to divide the spoil with us. Esrom and Rachel, especially, will look to me for the first ripe fruits. Gleanings will not satisfy them." Thus he talked by the way.


"But who is this-that cometh up from the wil

derness, leaning on her beloved?" It was Rachel now a leper, white as snow, leaning on Esrom. The pilgrims shrunk back, and stood afar off. They were ready to exclaim, "God has rejected her, although you vouched for her." Sheshbazzar turned to them with the majesty of an angel, saying, "There is hope in Israel concerning this thing. It is of the Lord; but it is for good, as in the case of MIRIAM." Turning to Rachel, with the mildness of an angel, he said, "Though you have lain among the pots, yet shall you be as the wings of a dove, covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow gold."

No. II.


We are not so susceptible or watchful in all things now, as when we first said to ourselves, whilst weeping at the foot of the Cross, "Without holiness I shall not see the Lord." Then, all our old regrets, and all our new desires, and all our hopes and fears for eternity, threw light upon the meaning of holiness, and warmth into the resolution to follow it, through good report and bad report. | Thus the maxim was mighty, whilst we were melted with the wonders of redeeming love, and awed by the solemnities of eternity.

Now, we recollect this well. We cannot forget it. Accordingly, whenever we so fall off from the rule or the spirit of holiness, as to be startled at the declension, or to become afraid of consequences, we naturally say to ourselves, "Ah, this is the sad effect of losing my first love. Could I only recall the days of old, when my heart was all tenderness, and my conscience all timidity, I should find my old maxim as powerful and suffiIr is quite possible to have a sincere desire to cient as ever."' We have not a doubt of this. be holy, and even to have some real love to holi- We are quite sure, that we should soon act as ness, and yet to overlook, not only some of the well as ever, if we could only feel again as we did virtues or graces of a holy character, but also at first. And there can be no doubt, that a resome of the most effectual means of becoming newed sense of redeeming love and of eternal holy. A very great point is gained, however, things, would give great practical power to the when even one evangelical motive to holiness ac- command, "Follow holiness; without which no quires, either as a check or as a charm, sanctify-one shall see the Lord." The real question is, ing influence over our character. And, happily, however, how to get back that state of mind? It the motive or consideration which first lays hold does not return of itself, nor is it always found upon the conscience is, usually, the solemn fact, even when sought for with tears. Something that "without Holiness no one shall see the Lord." good is, indeed, always found in answer to fervent This is a consideration which may well awe and prayer: but it is not often that even such prayer influence both our habits and spirit: and there-brings back all the light and love of the days of fore, it is well that it is, in general, the first to ri-old. Even when it does, they are not such long vet our attention. Perhaps no other motive is days as they were at first, nor do they follow each so well suited, at first, to our condition, when we other in such close succession. are just setting out in the Divine life. It is readily understood, and easily remembered. And as it is the fear of not seeing God in heaven at last, quite as much as the desire of seeing Him, that influences our choice, we really need a motive which can work, at once upon both our hopes and fears; for one that appealed to either exclusively, would defeat itself then. An increase of fear without hope, or of hope without any fear, would do us no real good.

You have observed and deplored all this. Did it ever occur to you, that there is no small danger of grieving the Holy Spirit, by thus making “the days of old," the standard for our present piety? The "good work" in the heart, of which He is the author and finisher, he "carries on" in its goodness, as well as keeps up in its being. Its mere preservation from utter extinction is not his great object. His care over "the root of the matter," is for the sake of the fruit it is capable I do, therefore, congratulate you upon the hold of bearing. Accordingly, whenever we become which this familiar, but powerful motive, has ob- less fruitful, or even cease trying to bring forth tained upon your understanding and conscience. more fruit than we began with, He soon makes Its authority over you is a good sign. It is, in- us to feel somewhat doubtful as to the very life of deed, no small proof of being "led by the Spirit "the root itself. Indeed, we are any thing but for as many as have been led by Him, began to follow holiness, because, “without" it, "no man shall see the Lord." It is, however, worthy of special attention, that all who have ever made any great progress in following holiness, have had to try the force of other motives. Indeed, they have found it necessary to do so; on finding that this one did not carry them far enough, or not so far as it did at first.

This is only what might be expected. No single motive, however sweet or solemn, can be equally influential at all times, or in all duties. Our circumstances change; and we change with them, not a little. Our best frames of mind too, are not permanent. Even our "first love," although it has not "waxed cold" exactly, has lost much of its original simplicity and tenderness.

sure that the root of the matter is in us at all, when the branches of our profession become very barren. They will not, and cannot, be very fruitful, however, if we grieve the Holy Spirit, by neglecting or overlooking any of the great motives which he employs for sanctification.

Now, although the solemn consideration which I have been commending so strongly, is one of them, and a motive never to be laid aside or lost sight of, it is not the chief motive by which the Spirit works. He generally begins with it; but He never ends with it. And this is only what might be expected: for His special office is to glorify Christ. He will not, therefore, keep up the sanctifying power of any motive, however good, which is allowed to take that place in our attention, which belongs to the Saviour. Now

ran, even whilst you "did run well," looking to him for righteousness, far more than for sanctification. You did not, indeed, overlook either his image or his example; but they had obtained from you nothing like the same degree of attention, which you gave to his atonement and intercession. For once that you have tried to cast

it is by the glory of Christ, as that shines in the glass of Revelation, that the Holy Spirit changes believers into the image of Christ. They are all predestinated to be conformed to the image of the Saviour and as the Spirit will not depart from that model, neither will he deviate from this mode of sanctification. It will be just as true until the end of time, as it was at the beginning of Chris-yourself into "the mould" of his image, you have tianity, that it is by "beholding with open face, as in a glass, the glory of the Lord," that we are changed into the same image, by the Lord the Spirit. He will, indeed, give law its place, and chastisement its place, and both promises and warnings their place, in making us partakers of the Divine holiness: but he will not allow one of them, nor even the whole of them, to displace the Saviour. He will make him all in all, in the midst of all the means by which he sanctifies our heart and character.

Now, even if we meant well in trying to be holy, on the strength of the one motive which first struck ns, it is no wonder that its original influence has not kept us as it began. The holy Spirit will not permit even the holy fear of not "seeing the Lord" at last, to exempt us from the duty of contemplating "the glory of the Lord"


It may suit our sloth, or our convenience, or our self-complacency, to take for granted that we can go on very well in following holiness, by remembering its necessity as meetness for heaven: but this does not suit the glory of Christ; and, therefore, the Spirit will not work long, nor witness much, with this single fact, solemn as it is. By some process of conviction or chastisement, he will compel us to look sharply and seriously about us, for something more than a vague fear of hell, or a faint hope of heaven, as the means of sanctification. In a word, CHRIST must be "made unto us sanctification," as well as "wisdom, righteousness, and redemption." 1 Cor. i. 30. Does this throw any light upon your case? You have both wondered and wept, because you have often found yourself going back, rather than forward, in piety; although you were not conscious of having given up or lost sight of any of the holy motives you began with. You have never changed your opinion of the beauty of holiness, nor lost your conviction of its necessity; and yet neither your opinion nor your persuasion has kept you up to the mark of your first efforts, in running the race set before you. You "did run well," when you began to follow holiness; but you have often slackened your pace, and even slumbered by the way. "What did hinder you?" for you did not intend to stop, nor expect to tire, nor did you even imagine that you could weary in well doing."

Now, any one can tell you, or you can easily tell yourself, in explanation of this falling off, that you allowed some wrong habit or temper to grow upon you, or took up unduly with some earthly comfort, and thus grieved the Holy Spirit. And there is but too much truth in this account. It is not, however, the true explanation of your declensions. It is, in fact, itself, a part of your falling off, and not the real cause of it. That lay, in not looking unto Jesus as the Author and Finisher" of your holiness, as well as of your faith. You


cast yourself a thousand times upon his merits and grace. Not, however, that you have done the latter too often. No, indeed! Nor can you ever do it too often. But you have done the former too seldom, or too slightly. So, alas, have I!

Here, then, is the real cause of declension in piety; our leading fault and our chief defect are not confronted with the image of Christ from day to day, but left to the mere restraint of ordinary motives; and, as these are hardly sufficient to sustain even what is best and strongest in our character, it is no wonder that what is worst and weakest grows upon us, and thus brings the very spirit of piety to a low ebb. In a word; our besetting sin cannot be overcome, nor our weak side cured, by leaving them to take their chance, in common with those points of our character which are easily kept right. What is bad cannot be remedied, by the force of the general considerations which support what is good about us; any more than food can heal a wound, or clothing cure a fever. It is medicine, not food, that cures bodily disease: and it is the special, not the general motives to holiness, that can alone remove moral defects.

It is, I am aware, much more common, in speaking on this subject, to hear it said of our chief faults and defects, "This kind goeth not out but by prayer and fasting." And this is perfectly true, if the maxim be taken (as the Saviour intended it to be) always in connection with learning of Him, and setting His image and example before us. Apart from doing that, however, even special prayer, and literal fasting, will not "cast out" a wrong habit nor a rash spirit, effectually. Accordingly, we have prayed, at times, very fervently, against the tendencies and temptations which betray us oftenest; and yet we have been soon betrayed by them again. Indeed, it has not always been from the want of trying to stand, that we have so often fallen. Others may say so, and even think so, when they see us falling away from some duty, or falling into some wrong spirit: but we knew the contrary. We have not, alas, "done all to stand," which we might have done : but we have done more than others give us credit for at times, and suffered more too than they imagine. Any one can see our faults: but God alone knows our struggles against them.

Well; the great reason why these struggles are so unsuccessful often, is, that we pray and plan without having the image of Christ distinctly before us, or without looking chiefly to that feature of His image which is most imperfectly reflected by us; for we can no more steer a right course through the sea of life by any star of the Saviour's character, than the mariner can steer through the ocean by any star of the skies. We must look oftencst to that part of the image of Christ, which we are most unlike. And this must be done “with open face;" or with an honest desire and express

determination, to be "changed into the same image."

Here, now, comes on the trial of our spirit, and of our integrity too. Are we willing to learn a new lesson; willing to try a new experiment; willing to make a new effort, in order to be more holy? Nothing else or less than this, can cure the faults and imperfections we confess and deplore. Well; whether will you go on confessing and deploring them, or set yourself to contemplate the glory of Christ in the glass of Revelation, that that part of His glory which reproves them, may disperse them also? Would you rather succumb to them, than conquer them at this expense of time and thought? Would you rather give the time thus called for, to prayer for the forgiveness of them, than to meditation for their removal? Would you rather throw them on the blood of Christ for pardon, than upon the image of Christ for sanctification?

Christ, if we do not follow the leadings of His Spirit to the glass of Revelation; just as He drives us back to the Cross of Christ, when we forsake, or stand too far off from it.

How, then, do you feel inclined towards the duty and habit of "beholding with open face the glory of the Lord, that you may be changed into his image?" You have contemplated his glory, that you might be pardoned and accepted. You cannot afford, and you do not wish, to take your eye off from the glory of his power, which can save to the uttermost; nor from the glory of his blood, which can cleanse from all sin; nor from the glory of his righteousness, which can justify even the ungodly when they believe; nor from the glory of his grace, which is sufficient for all emergencies; nor from the glory of his intercession, which the Father heareth always with complacency; nor from the glory of his providence, which maketh all things work together for good The questions are bringing out the secrets of to them who love him. In reference to all these your heart, upon the very surface of your con- features of the Saviour's personal and official gloscience! Take great care, however, that the dis- ry, you desire "to see Jesus," and neither dread coveries you are now making of "what is in" nor deprecate any evil so much as that of any "veil you, neither discourage you too much, nor irritate upon your heart," which would hide this brightyou at all: for it is as possible to dispute as to de-ness of his glory from your eye, or hide your need spond, when the unexpected discovery of some of it from your conscience. Thus, Creation would great oversight in religion, forces home upon us be a blank to you, if you were to lose sight of the the conviction, that we have almost to begin glory of Christ. Your brightest hope, yea, your anew, or, at least, to take new lessons on sancti- fondest desire, even in regard to heaven itself, is, fication. We do not like to see the necessity of "to see him as he is." You expect far more thus going to school again as meekly and humbly, happiness from "beholding the glory of the Lamb as when we first sat down at the feet of Christ, in the midst of the throne," than from all the unsaying with child-like simplicity, "Lord, what veiled scenes and secrets of the natural and moral wouldst thou have me to do?" Some, when they universe. You can easily conceive how you will find that it must come to this, begin to doubt whenever weary through eternity in looking up to ther all their past experience has not been a delusion and others allow themselves to be chafed into an impatient or speculative spirit, which tries to rid itself of the conviction, that new lessons and measures are thus indispensable. Thus, just according to the frame of our mind at the moment of this humiliating discovery, is the effect of the discovery itself. If we happen to be rather well pleased with the state of our piety upon the whole, we are in great danger of straining our ingenuity, to prove that we are doing pretty well, without studying the image of Christ more than usual. If, again, we happen to be in Doubting Castle, when this great oversight flashes upon our spirit, we are but too ready to put our "feet into the stocks" of utter despondency, or to conclude that we were never converted nor sincere. And, if we happen to be in a slothful or worldly temper, when we are brought to a dead stand by the startling fact, that we have never been so intent on having the image of Christ upon our soul, as the righteousness of Christ upon our sins; then Satan is sure to set our wits to work, to find out some way of evading the new duty, without exactly denying the necessity of more holiness.

I need not tell you that, in this case, the compromising spirit is the most dangerous. The fainting spirit, though painful, is not perilous. God will take care to revive it, and to enable it to look again towards His holy temple: but, "with the froward, He will show himself froward," and by some means take "vengeance on their inventions." He will drive us by rods to the image of

him, saying, "I beseech thee show me thy glory:"
for you know that it is infinite; and, therefore,
that every new form of it can only be the harbin-
ger of still newer and nobler manifestations
"whilst immortality endures." There! I knew
how you would feel upon this point. The "melo-
dy of your heart" is now quivering upon your
lips, and smiles of complacency playing amidst
the sweet words,

"There shall we see his face,
And never, never sin :
And from the rivers of his grace,
Drink endless pleasures in!"

O, you are not the woman, who should be afraid that the image of Christ cannot be impressed upon your heart and character! You have no occasion to despond or dispute, in the presence of a new lesson. You cannot do well without it, now that both the providence and the spirit of God have thus forced it upon your notice. Any attempt to do without it now, would be such a sin against light; and, in your case and mine, such an outrage upon conscience and reason, that we could look for nothing else than to be left to fall into some fatal error or apostacy, if we were not, from henceforth, to follow holiness, looking to the image of Christ, as our chief model and motive.

Our Bible, remember, brings this view of holiness before us, in a very peculiar and solemn connection; and we have no right, whatever be our views or feelings towards the word, "Predestina

it is not from the want of knowing better, that you either weary or decline in secret prayer. Your convictions of the sin and danger of neglecting your closet, are often strongest when you are most estranged from it. I mean, you are sometimes obliged to shut your eyes when passing it, or hurrying out of it; the glare of that guiltiness is so blinding and painful! You cannot bear to think, at that moment. And yet, even then, you intend, yea, vow to yourself, to shake I have, perhaps, less patience with the vulgar off this lethargy; to break through this reluctance; notions of predestination than many. Indeed, I and to return soon to your "quiet rest" under the do not believe one word of any theory of sove-mercy-seat; for you never depart from it in disreignty, the letter and spirit of which is not in per- gust, nor allow yourself to be drawn away from it, fect harmony with that sacred oracle, “Elect, ac- without leaving at it the promise of a speedy recording to the foreknowledge of God the Father, turn. Thus, even when farthest off from the through sanctification of the Spirit, unto obedience, throne of grace, you are rather a wanderer than a and the sprinkling of the blood of Christ." 1 Pet. deserter. i. 2. Whether, therefore, I take "predestinate" Has there been much of this wandering backin the sense of purpose, decree, determination, or ward and forward between God and the world, design, I cannot help seeing the sober fact, that in your past history! Do you still find it very God never could "predestinate" one class of his difficult to continue "instant (perserving) in children to be very like Christ, and another to be prayer?" Is the disposition to wander rather on very unlike Christ. Common sense revolts from the increase, than the decrease?" Do you "quit the gross absurdity, that some are chosen to be the horns of the altar" oftener, or longer at one holy, and others to be nearly unholy; that one is time, than formerly? If so, see the need you have predestinated to be active, and another to be idle; to get hold of some new motive, which may both that a few are elected to be amiable, and many rally the relaxed power of your old motives, and to be waspish or peevish. No meaning of the render it impossible for you to fail or faint so word "predestinate," will agree with such ano-much in prayer. Why; without this, you may molies. Now, although I certainly do not see any come to "restrain prayer before God" altogether; thing in the Bible, which conveys the shadow of and then, what can restrain you from utter aposan idea, that we are chosen or called because of tacy? any personal holiness, still, I cannot but see, that all predestination, as taught by Christ and his apostles, is, invariably and expressly, in order to produce holiness of heart and life.

tion," to separate it from that word; for God has you weary of your closet at times, and are often joined them together thus: "for whom he did reluctant to go to it, as well as lifeless in it. Thus, foreknow, he also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his Son." Rom. viii. 29. The necessity of this conformity, or likeness, to the mind and moral character of the Saviour, is not a thing to be evaded, by proving or disproving the Calvinistic system. The Arminian and the Calvinist must equally admit that whatever predestination mean, no one is "predestinated," but for a holy purpose. Both the calling and election taught in the Bible, is "unto holiness."

Now, in what do you fail most? What grace or virtue of a holy character do you find most difficult to acquire and keep up? Perhaps a devotional spirit that grace which is the guardian of all the rest! If this be the point in which you fail chiefly, you certainly do not fail through ignorance of its importance; for on no point have you more knowledge, or deeper convictions. I mean, you can neither forget nor doubt the connection between prayerfulness, and all growth in grace. You are quite sure that you could neither gain more ground in piety, nor even keep your present ground long, if you were to give up secret prayer. You see, at a glance, how the utter loss of a devotional spirit, would involve the certain loss of all hope, and place even the best points of your character in imminent peril. It is not, therefore, from any doubt of the inseparable connection between a devotional spirit, and soul-prosperity, that you ever become formal or heartless in your closet. You may try to persuade yourself at times, that less prayer will answer the purpose of keeping up both your hope and consistency; but you never imagine that they can be maintained without any prayer. Or, if at any time there be no prayer, it is because, for the moment, you have "no hope."

Here, then, is an informed judgment—a persuaded conscience-a feeling heart, upon the indispen

You feel this. Well; there is a glory in the INTERCESSION of Christ in heaven, which cannot fail, if duly contemplated, to transform you into the image of his devotional spirit on earth. Its sweet influence cannot be resisted nor defeated, in any heart that has ever found relief in prayer, or that yet feels the necessity of prayer. The glory of the Saviour's intercession will change that heart into more of the image of his heart, than any other motive which can be employed for the revival, or the confirmation, of a devotional spirit.

In asserting this, thus strongly, nothing is farther from my design than to convey any idea of a charm, an impulse, or an influence, which would make devotion as natural and easy, as it is essential. I know of no spell on earth, or from heaven, which could keep up the spirit of prayer, apart from "watching unto prayer." Whoever will not take time, and heed, and care, in order to maintain devotional habits, will find no substitute for them, in sentimental impulses, or in ecstatic reveries. Prayer is a sober and solemn duty, as a sublime privilege; and, therefore, the duty must be performed, if the privilege would be enjoyed.

The glory of the Saviour's intercession in heaven, can, however, confirm the habit, and prolong the spirit of prayer. You may have said to yourself, without much effect,

"Cold mountains and the midnight air,
Witness'd the fervor of His prayer."

sable necessity of a devotional spirit: and yet, You may only have been afraid or ashamed when

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