had committed himself to God, he was like a man in his strong impregnable castle. Jehoshaphat, though he commanded an immense army, went not into the field of battle, till he had earnestly sought success from the Lord of Hosts. 'O our God, wilt thou not judge them? for we have no might against this great company that cometh against us; neither know we what to do: but our eyes are upon thee." 2 Chron. xx. 12.

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It is in the soul's approach to a throne of grace, that God manifests himself to us as he doth not to the world. He is nigh unto them who seek him; he proclaims his name, "The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth;" he unveils his glory, and shews his smiling face. Such bright manifestations scatter our clouds, fill our hearts with inward joy, and gild with a celestial radiance the dusky wilderness. While we pour out our souls to God, he pours down his benign influence upon us, and causes us to triumph in Christ, and go on our way with alacrity and pleasure. Thus spiritual prosperity is the effect of prayer. The throne of grace is our dispensary, where every healing medicine is prepared; our treasury and asylum, where all our riches and resources are found.

But numerous obstacles and difficulties oppose and discourage every good man, when he draws near to God.

"What various hindrances we meet,

In coming to a mercy-seat;

Yet who, that knows the worth of prayer,

But wishes to be often there?"

COWPER.

The malignant enemies of the Christian well know, if they can come in between him and his God, they block up his communication with heaven, and for a time at least cut off his supplies. The insidious policy of Satan is, either to debar him from the throne of grace, or disturb him in his access to it. But, what is most of all to be deplored, the corruptions of his own heart often interrupt or spoil his communion with God.

When we converse with godly people on the subject of prayer, there is nothing of which they so frequently and so bitterly complain, as heaviness and deadness of spirit. They do not, they dare not, they cannot, and will not, wholly omit the duty, but declare they feel no life and energy in it. As one whose health is impaired, and whose appetite is gone, still takes his seat at the family table, as a matter of form, and in compliance with the wish of relatives, but has no pleasure in the repast; they return to seek God at the hour of prayer, though they find no zest or relish in it-no refreshment from it. The

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springs of spiritual life are relaxed; and therefore the duties of religion are performed in a cold and comfortless manner. The soul is burdened, and strives in vain to cast off the incumbent pressure. This was the state of the Psalmist, when he said, "My soul cleaveth to the dust; quicken thou me according to thy word:" not that the devotions are always unprofitable, which are attended with little pleasure. "We are often," says one, deceived, both as to the principle and the effect of our prayers. When, from some external cause, the heart is glad, the spirits light, the thoughts ready, the tongue voluble, a kind of spontaneous eloquence is the result: with this we are pleased, and this ready flow we are willing to impose on ourselves for piety. On the other hand, when the mind is dejected, the animal spirits low, the thoughts confused; when apposite words do not readily present themselves, we are apt to accuse our hearts of want of fervour, to lament our weakness, and to mourn that, because we have had no pleasure in praying, our prayers have therefore not ascended to the throne of mercy. In both cases, we perhaps judge ourselves unfairly. These unready accents, these faultering praises, these ill-expressed petitions, may find more acceptance than the florid talk with which we were so well satisfied: the latter consisted, it may be, of shining thoughts, floating on the fancy;

eloquent words, dwelling only on the lips: the former was the sighing of a contrite heart, abased by the feeling of its own unworthiness, and awed by the perfections of a holy, heartsearching God. The heart is dissatisfied with its own dull and tasteless repetitions, which, with all their imperfections, infinite goodness may perhaps hear with favour. We may not only be elated with the fluency, but even with the fervency of our prayers. Vanity may grow out of the very act of renouncing it; and we may begin to feel proud of having humbled ourselves so eloquently. There is, however, a simple, solid, pious strain of prayer, in which the supplicant is so filled and occupied with a sense of his own dependence, and of the importance of the things for which he asks; and so persuaded of the power and grace of God, through Christ, to give those things; that while he is engaged in it, he does not merely imagine, but feels assured, that God is nigh to him as a reconciled Father; so that every burden and doubt are taken off from his mind. He knows, as St. John expresses it, that he has the petitions he desired of God, and feels the truth of that promise, When they are speaking, I will hear.' This is the perfection of prayer.

6

It is not merely a want of pleasure in devo

* Mrs. More.

tion, which may consist with humiliation and tenderness, but a want of life, and liberty, and feeling, of which you perhaps complain. All who have long languished in confinement know, that when the body is weakened by disease, there is a certain sinking, joined with a sensation of weariness, of which no idea can be formed by those who have had an uninterrupted state of health; and few Christians can be found, whose experience has not made them acquainted with sensations somewhat analogous, in reference to the maladies which affect the inner man. In the latter case, however, the affliction is much more painful and intolerable than in the former. It was this depression, this load and languor of the soul, which the Psalmist so often confesses, and deeply deplores; and which prompted the cry, "Quicken thou us, and we will call upon thy name." But to what causes shall such a state of mind be traced?

1. Sometimes this deadness arises from indolence.

In some more than in others, we perceive a tendency to apathy and indifference. Natural constitution may, in this case, have no small share of influence. As the same water has a swift or slow current, according to the channel in which it flows; so the same grace is variously modified in different individuals. Genuine religion changes indeed the moral character of