ness of superstitious forms, nor the petty limitation, of stated seasons, and regular devotions; that he is infinitely above attending to our paltry concerns, though he himself anticipated this objection, when he condescended to declare, He that offereth me thanks and praise, he honoureth me.'

its reality than he does that of Xenophon's Prince, the Stoic's Wise Man, Quintilian's Perfect Orator, or any other Platonic or Utopian representation. Or could he be brought to believe its actual existence, he would set such a man far above the necessity of prayer; he would emancipate him from any such humbling prac tice; he would enthrone him on his own independent worth; for how should he ever suspect that such a man would ever pray at all, much less would be in prayer more abundant, in hu miliation more profound, in self-renunciation more abased?

One says he can adore the Author of nature in the contemplation of his works; that the mountains and the fields are His altar for worship. Another says, that his notion of religion is to deal honestly in his commerce with the world; both insist that they can serve God any where and every where. We know they can, Is it not probable that some of those enquir and we hope they do; but our Saviour, who ing minds, who adorned the porch and the acaknew the whole make of man, his levity, in-demy, as well as those more favoured men who stability, and unfixedness, and who was yet no friend to the formalist or the superstitious, not only commands, at the hour of prayer, our entering into the closet; but our shutting the door, a tacit reproof perhaps of the indevotion of the Sadducean, as well as the publicity of the Pharisaic religion, but certainly, an admonition of general obligation.

saw the future, through the din and distant perspective of prophecy, would have rejoiced to see the things which you see, and have not be lieved?

How gratefully would many of these illustrious spirits have accepted advantages which you overlook! How joyfully would they have received from Him who cannot lie, the assur. ance that if they would seek of Him that truth after which they were feeling,' they should find it! How gladly would that sublime and elegant spirit, whose favourite theme was pure spiritual love, have listened to the great apostle of love; to him who caught the flame as he leaned on the bosom of his affectionate master!

How would this same exalted genius, who taught the immortality of the soul to the bright, yet blind Athenians-he, whose penetrating mind rather guessed, than knew what he taught

This, indeed, is not the place to enter on that mass of concurring evidence which so irresisti. bly confirms the especial truth of Christianity. But is it not extraordinary that these men who overlook, or rather inquire not into, that accumulation of evidence in the exhibition of miracles, and the fulfilment of prophecy-that is, who do not read the Bible-should not at least attend to one species of evidence more immediately within their reach, and more intelligible to common observation; we mean the confirmation derived to the proofs of Scripture, from the history of the-whose keen eye caught some glimpses of a world, from their avowal of moral evil, their careful cultivation, where it suits them, of habits of an opposite nature, their practical and prudential maxims, where they have an end to pursue, an interest to gain. Do not similar rules, applied to Christian principles, and de. livered in the Divine record, prove clearly that our Divine teacher knew what was in man?'

In treating of prayer, it would be a superfluous labour to address unbelievers with the same arguments or persuasions which we would humbly propose to such as aver, with whatever degree of conviction, their belief in Christianity. It would be folly to address them with motives drawn from a book which they do not believe, or do not read. With those who are ignorant of the first principles of religion, or those who reject them, we have no common ground on which to stand. St. Paul, with his usual discrimination, has left us an example in this as well as in all other cases. With the philosophical Athenians he confined his reasonings to natural religion. To the Jewish king, Agrippa, who believed the prophets,' in telling the story of his own conversion, he most judiciously introduced the great doctrines of remission of sins and justification by faith.

·

If the Pyrrhonist in question were to see a genuine Christian character delineated in all its dimensions, marked with its fair lineaments, and enlivened by its quickening spirit, such, for instance, as is exemplified in the character of St. Paul, he would consider it as a mere picture of the imagination; and would no more believe

brighter state through the darkness which surrounded him-how would he have gloried in in that light and immortality which the gospel revelation has brought to light!-but with what unspeakable rapture would he have learned that He who revealed the life could give it: that He who promised immortality could bestow it! With what obedient transport would he have heard this touching apostrophe, at once a strong reproof and a tender invitation-Ye will not come unto me that ye might have life!-'Ye philosophising cavillers, who live in the meri. dian splendour of this broad day, how will you escape, if you neglect so great a salvation?'

But if pride, the dominant intellectual sin, keeps the sceptic aloof from the humiliating duties of devotion; the habitual indulgence of the senses, in another class, proves an equal cause of alienating the heart from prayer.

The man absorbed by ease and enjoyment, and sunk in the relaxing softness of a voluptuous life, has a natural distaste to every thing that stands in opposition to the delights of that life. It is the smoothness of his course which makes it so slippery. He is lost before he feels that he is sinking. For whether we plunge at once from a precipitous height, or slide down from it on an inclined plane, still, while there is a yawning gulf at the bottom, our destruction is equally inevitable.

The systematic but decorous sensualist is one whose life is a course of sober luxury, of measured indulgence. He contrives to reconcile an abandonment of sound principle with a kind of

If you happen to speak of the helplessness of man, he thinks you are alluding to some paralytic; if of his dependence, to some hanger-on of a great man; if of his sinfulness, he adopts your opinion, for he reads the Newgate calendar. But of sin, as an inherent principle, of the tur. pitude of sin, except as it disturbs society, he knows nothing; but religion as a principle of action, but prayer as a source of peace or a ground of hope, he neither knows nor desires to know. The stream of life glides smoothly on without it; why should he ruffle its placid flow? why should he break in on the course of enjoy. ment with self-imposed austerities? He believes himself to be respected by his fellow-men, and the favour of God is not in all his thoughts. His real character the great day of decision will dis-ly trifles are far more apt to intrude on us in over. Till then he will have two characters. Soul take thine ease, thou hast much goods

ness and pleasure break in on our devotions; when will the spirit of devotion mix with the concerns of the world?

times implore God to hear a prayer, to which we ourselves are not attending? And is not this presumptuously to demand from him that attention, which we ourselves are not giving to our own requests, even while we were in the act of making them?

A mere superficial form, by lulling the conscience, hardens the heart. The task is performed, but in what manner, or to what result is not inquired. Genuine prayer is the homage of the soul to God, and not an expedient to paeify Him.

If you observe the form, but forget the dispo sitions it is intended to produce, it is evident the end of such prayer is not answered. Yet be not so far discouraged by feeling no sensible effect from prayer as to discontinue it; it is still a right thing to be found in the way of duty.

You who lament the disappointment of your requests, suffer a few friendly hints.-Have you not been impatient because you receive not the things that you asked, at your own time? How do you know that if you had persevered God might have bestowed them in His time? He certainly would, had He not in his wisdom fore. seen they would not have been good for you; and therefore, in His mercy withheld them. Is there not some secret, unsuspected infidelity lurking behind such impatience? Is it not virtually saying, there is no God to hear, or that He is unfaithful to His promises? For is it not absolute impiety to insinuate an accusation that the Supreme Judge of men and angels is capable of injustice, or liable to error? God has plea- But, perhaps, you neglect to implore the Spisure in the prosperity of His children. He rit of Christ towards the direction of your pray. neither grants nor denies any thing which is not ers, and His intercession for their acceptance. accurately weighed and measured; which is not As there is no other name through which we exactly suited to their good,if not to their request. can be saved, so there is no other through which If we pray aright, it may please God not only we can be heard: we must not sever his mediato grant that for which we pray, but that for tion from his atonement. All His divine offices which we do not pray. Supplicating for the are not only in perfect harmony, but in insepabest things, we may receive inferior and unre-rable union. Or, perhaps, you have used the quested things, as was the case with Solomon name of the Redeemer for form's sake, or as an in his prayer for wisdom. God will not forget accustomed close to your petitions, without imour labour of love. If he does not seem to no-ploring his efficacious grace in changing your tice it at present, he may lay it by for a time heart, as well as in pardoning your sins. when it may be more wanted.

Perhaps you think it is a sufficient qualification In prayer we must take care not to measure for acceptable prayer, that you are always formour necessities by our desires; the former are ing good intentions; now, though these make few, the latter may be insatiable. A murmur-up the value of good actions, yet good intentions, ing spirit is a probable cause why our petitions are not granted. The certain way to prevent our obtaining what we desire, or enjoying what we have, is to feel impatient at what we do not receive, or to make an improper use of what has been granted to our prayers.

not acted upon when occasion invites and duty calls, will not lessen, but inflame the reckoning. For does it not look as if you had resisted the offer of that Holy Spirit, which had originally prompted the intention? And may it not in. duce Him to withdraw his blessed influences, when they have been both invited and rejected?

Or you may perhaps address God with sinis. ter and corrupt views; as if you had left his Do you never, by unwholesome reading, fill omniscience out of his attributes; as if you the mind with images unfavourable to serious thought him such an one as yourself; as if he exercises? The children of the pure and holy might be entrapped with the secret ambush of God should feed on the bread of their father's a specious prayer.' Your design in the appli.house, and not on the husks of the prodigal! eation of the boon you solicit may not be for his Do you never use profanely or lightly, that glory. It may be the prayer of ambition, cloak-name, which is above every name? He who ed under the guise of more extensive usefulness; made the ear, shall he not hear? and if he has it may be the prayer of covetousness, under the heard, during the day, his awful name used by pretext of providing for your family. It may the thoughtless as an expletive, or an imprecabe the prayer of injustice, a petition for success tion, will he in the morning be called on as a in some undertaking for yourself, to the circum. Saviour, and in the evening as an intercessor ? vention of another's fairer claim. God, in merey to our souls, refuses the gift which would endanger them.

Thus, then, if we ask and receive not, because we ask deceitfully or blindly, we must not wonder if our prayers are not answered. Or, if we obtain what we solicit, and turn it to a bad account, or to no account at all, we must not be surprised if Divine grace is withheld, or withdrawn. The same ill results may be expected if we ask formally, or carelessly. Who has not felt, that there is a kind of mechanical memory in the tongue, which runs over the form, without any aid of the understanding, without any concurrence of the will, without any con. sent of the affections? For do we not some

But no profession of faith, however orthodox, no avowal of trust in Christ, however confident, no intreaty for the aid of the Spirit, however customary, will avail, if it be not such an influential faith, such a practical trust, such a living devotedness, as shall be productive of holiness of heart and life, as shall tend to produce obedience to the commands, and submission to the will of God.-This is an infallible test, by which you may try every doctrine, every principle of the gospel. We do not mean the truth of them,

We observe with regret, that, in many forms of prayer, the aid of his mediation is much more frequently implored, than the benefits of his death and merits. He is, indeed, our divine Intercessor, but his mere intercession is not the whole source of our dependence on him.

for that is immutable; but your own actual belief, your own actual interest in them. If no such effects are visible, we deceive ourselves, and the principles we defend, are not those by which we are governed.

Prayer is so obviously designed to humble the proud heart of the natural man, by giving him a feeling sense of his misery, his indigence, and his helplessness, that we should be unwilling to believe, that even the proudest man can carry his pride to the Throne of Grace, except to sup. plicate deliverance from it; yet such a charac. ter is actually drawn by him who knew the thoughts and intents of the heart of man, and a little consideration will teach us, that the two men who went up into the temple to pray,' were not intended as individual portraits, but as specimens of a class.

prayer. The cultivation of the one, under easy circumstances, prepares for the exercises of the other under more trying situations. Both emanate from the same divine principle, but are drawn out by different occasions, and varying circumstances.

Content is the tranquillity of the heart, prayer is its aliment; it is satisfied under every dispensation of Providence, and takes thankfully its allotted portion, never enquiring whether a little more would not be a little better; knowing, that if God had so judged, it would have been as easy for him to have given the more as the less. That is not true content, which does not enjoy as the gift of infinite wisdom what it has, nor is that true patience, which does not suffer meekly the loss of what it had, because it is not his will that it should have it longer.

The proud man does not perhaps always thank The contentment of the irreligious man is God that he is not guilty of adultery, or extor- apathy, his patience either pride or insensibility. tion, to which vices he may have little tempta. The language of the patient man under trials is, tion; nor does he glory in paying tithes and it is the Lord.-Shall a living man complain? taxes, to which the law would compel him. Yet is his interrogation. A good man,' says Solois he never disposed, like the Pharisee, to pro- mon, 'is satisfied from himself.' Here the preclaim the catalogue of his own virtues? to bring sumptuous might put in his claim to the title. in his comparative claims, as if it were a good But his pretension arises from his mistake, for thing to be better than the bad? Is he never his satisfaction is with himself, that of the Chrisdisposed to carry in his eye, (as if he would re-tian with Providence; it arises from the grace mind his Maker of his superiority,) certain per of God shed abroad in his heart, which is besons who are possibly less the objects of Divine come a perennial spring of consolation and endispleasure, than he, by his pride and selfish.joyment; and which, by persevering prayer, is ness may have rendered himself; although his regularity in the forms of devotion may have made him more respectable in the world, than the poor reprobated being whom he praises God he does not resemble. It is the abasement, the touching self-condemnation, the avowed poverty, the pleaded misery of the destitute beggar that finds acceptance. It is the hungry whom God's mercy fills with good things, it is the rich in his own conceit, whom his displeasure sends empty away.

indented into his very soul. Content knows how to want and how to abound; this is the language of equanimity: 'shall I not receive evil from the hand of the Lord, as well as good,' this is the language of patience in speaking of Providence. Content is always praising God for what she possesses; patience is always justify. ing Him for what she suffers. The cultivation of the one effectually prepares us for the exercise of the other. But these dispositions are not inherent in the human heart. How are they generated? by the influences of the Holy Spirit. How are they kept alive? by heart-felt devotion.

The prosperous man of the world, exulting in any recent success, may acknowledge, the Lord gave,' but it is only Christian patience can say, the Lord taketh away,' and even bless Him for the resumption of His gift. The contented, patient Christian, has the same keen feelings, the same fond attachments with other men, for, though his passions are regulated by religion, they are not totally extinguished.

Whenever you are tempted to thank God that you are not like other men, compare your own condition with that of the afflicted and the bereaved among your own friends; compare your self with the paralytic on his couch, with the blind beggar by the way-side, with the labourer in the mine; think on the wretch in the galleys; on the condemned in the dungeons of despotic governments; on the miserable beings in our own prisons, those loathsome abodes of sin and wretchedness. Above all, think, and this is the intolerable acme of sin in the inflictor, and of Under the pressure of any affliction, thy will misery in the sufferer; think on the wretched be done, as it is the patient Christian's unceas negro chained in the hold of a slave ship! Thinking prayer, so it is the ground of his unvarying seriously on these, and put pride into your pray. er if you can. Think on these, not to triumph in your own superiority, but to adore the undeserved mercy of God, in giving you advantages to which you have no higher claim, and let your praise of yourself be converted into prayer for

them.

For there are no dispositions of the heart which are more eminently promoted by prayer, than contentment and patience. They are two qualities of the same colour, but of different shades, and are generally, when found at all, found in the same breast. Both are the offspring of genuine religion, both nurtured by cordial

practice. In this brief petition he finds his whole duty comprised and expressed. It is the unprompted request of his lips, it is the motto inscribed on his heart, it is the principle which regulates his life, it is the voice which says to the stormy passions, Peace! be still! Let others expostulate, he submits. Nay, even submission does not adequately express his feelings. We frequently submit, not so much from duty as from necessity; we submit, because we cannot help ourselves. Resignation sometimes may be mere acquiescence in the sovereignty, rather than conviction of the wisdom and goodness of God; while the patient Christian not

only yields to the dispensation, but adores the dispenser. He not only submits to the blow, but vindicates the hand which inflicts it; the Lord is righteous in all his ways.' He refers to the chastisement as a proof of the affection of the chastiser. I know that in very faithfulness thou hast caused me to be afflicted.' He recurs to the thoughtlessness of his former prosperity. | Before I was afflicted I went astray,' and alludes to the trial less as a punishment than a paternal correction. If he prays for a removal of the present suffering, he prays also that it may not be removed from him, till it has been sanctified to him. He will not even part from the trial till he has laid hold on the benefit.

over your heart and life, you do not go much further than the heathens of old. They seem to have had a strong feeling of guilt, by their fond desire of expiating it by their sacrifices and lustrations.

Of their terror of its punishment we have many intimations in their fables; for what is fable to us, was probably to them obscure histo ry, or wild tradition worked up into an absurd but amusing mythology. The eternity of their punishments is strongly implied in the insatiable thirst and ungratified appetites of Tantalus; his misery augmented by that flowing water and those tempting fruits which hung in his sight and mocked his appetites, not unlike the anguish of Dives, which was rendered more intolerable by beholding the blessedness of those on the other side of the great gulf. The profitless toils of Sisyphus, and of the daughters of Danaus, whose ever failing efforts prove their labours to be infinite, and their punishment eter

Perhaps the impediment which binders the benefit of prayer in characters apparently correct, may be the fatal habit of indulging in some secret sin, the private cherishing of some wrong propensity, the entertaining of some evil imagi. nation. Not being accustomed to control at other times, it intrudes when you would wil.nal. The wheel of Ixion, which, as it was to be lingly expel it; for a guest which is unreserv. edly let in at other seasons, and cordially enter. tained, will too frequently break in when you desire to be alone.

in perpetual motion, so the punishment was to have no end; a doctrine not so strongly held by many Christians, as it seems to be implied in this blind mythology.

The Scriptures are explicit on this subject. Will you not then be most unweariedly ferIt is not merely the committing actual sin that vent in prayer to the God of mercy for deliver. ruins the comfort growing out of prayer; the ance from the dominion of that sin which, if not divine prohibition runs higher; its interdiction forsaken as well as lamented, will be inevitably is more intimately interior; it extends to the followed by that punishment which you deprethoughts and intents of the heart. The door of cate, and which will never end? But such is heaven is shut against prayer under such cir- the love of present case, and the desire of rescumstances. If I regard iniquity in my heart, pite, that you think, perhaps, it is better not to the Lord will not hear me.' A cherished cor- be tormented before the time.' How many now ruption in the mind is the more likely to inter- in a state of irreversible misery wish they had pose between God and the soul, because it does been tormented saoner, that they might not be not assume the shape and bulk of crime. A tormented forever! But with you it is not yet practical offence, the effect of sudden tempta- too late. With you the day of grace, which to tion, is more likely to be followed by keen re- them is over, is not yet past. Use it then withpentance, deep self-abasement, and fervent ap-out delay, instead of persisting in laying up plication for pardon; whereas to the close bo. som sin, knowing that no human charge can be brought against it, the soul secretly returns with a fondness facilitated by long indulgence, and only whetted by a short separation. Vain, covetous, malignant, impure thoughts, habitually fostered by the imagination, are more like. ly to start out into action, are a more probable preparation for a bolder sin, than many who in dulge them believe or intend.

fresh regrets for eternity.

But too many deceive themselves, by imagin. ing that when they have pronounced their pray. er, the duty is accomplished with the task, the occult medicine being taken, the charm is to work of itself. They consider it as a duty quite distinct and unconnected with any other. They forget that it is to produce in them a principle which is to mix with all the occurrences of the day. Prayer, though not intended as a talisman, is yet praposed as a remedy. The effect of its operation is to be seen in assisting to govern the temper, in bridling the tongue, in checking, not only calumny but levity, not only impure, but vain conversation.

We have not a fault for which we

It was, perhaps, this acute, experimental feeling which led David to pray to be delivered from 'secret sins;' these, he was probably conscious, had led to those presumptuons sins,' which had entangled his soul and embittered his life; and whose dominion he so frequently But we have a wonderful talent at deceiving and fervently deprecates. This, it is to be fear-ourselves. ed, may be the case with some, whose language do not find an apology. Our ingenuity on this and exterior cause them to be ranked with the religious; these are, at least, the dangers to which they are most exposed. It is, therefore, that our Lord connects, in indissoluble union, watching with prayer.

Perhaps, when the conscience is more than usually awakened, you pray with some degree of fervour to be delivered from the guilt and punishment of sin. But, if you stop here, your devotion is most imperfect. If you do not also pray to be delivered from its power and dominion

head is inexhaustible. In matters of religion men complain that they are weak, a complaint they are not forward to urge in worldly matters. They lament that their reluctance to pray arises from being unable to do what God, in his word, expects them to do. But is not this virtual re. bellion, only with a smooth face and a soft name? God is too wise not to know exactly what we can do, and too just to expect from us what we cannot.

This pretence of weakness, though it looks