fulness to give; but the proud, though unable to dig, is ashamed to beg, and disdains to stoop at the footstool of the Prince of Peace. Prayer is communion with God, but the proud he knoweth afar off. High thoughts, and towering imaginations, must be brought down, ere the soul can rise to the throne of grace, or rejoice in the light of God's countenance. "Thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones." Isa. lvii. 15.

Pride and humility are drawn in two striking pictures, by that skilful and faithful Hand, which never erred, and they are set up to be viewed as an instructive contrast. "And he spake a parable unto certain which trusted in themselves, that they were righteous, and despised others. Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, the other a publican." The reader may for himself examine this beautiful and impressive parable, for it needs neither comment nor exposition. Never was profound humiliation more graphically delineated with a few masterly strokes, to which nothing can be added. “The publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes to heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be

merciful to me a sinner!" That our prayers may be acceptable, let us rather mourn with the lowly publican, than boast with the lofty self-elated Pharisee. Let us draw nigh to God with the language and spirit of humility, crying, Lord, what is man! and let us stand before him clothed with humility, for this is the only robe which befits a rebel, when he becomes a penitent supplicant at his footstool. Nor let any attendant discouragements oppress our hearts; for God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace unto the humble. Contemplating the blessed God," says one*, "I behold an ocean unfathomable and without shore. This, O my Creator, I understand, that thou art all, and I am nothing. On this condition I exist, that I consider myself as nothing, and vanity. The moment I begin to consider myself something, without thee, I stand condemned. O nothing be still, for a few moments of that vain life which thou spendest as a shadow; lose thyself in solemn silence; be wholly absorbed in the greatness of God. O the real happiness of self-annihilation! And as nothing can be more happy, so nothing can be more equitable, more conformable to eternal rectitude."

4. Gratitude is another disposition requisite in the important duty of prayer.

*The late excellent Dr. Williams.

As humility is a deep sense of our sins, gratitude is a lively sense of our mercies. Both these tempers grow out of the same principle of implanted grace, but it depends on culture whether both shall equally flourish. It is impossible, indeed, that we should be too humble; but we may, by looking exclusively at our own imperfections and sins, sink into a state of habitual depression and melancholy. We may mourn over our offences, till we are swallowed up of sorrow, and lose sight of the only springs of consolation. In such a case, it generally happens, that fretfulness is mixed with penitence. "Let our prayers then be all humiliation, but not all complaint." Let us not always hang our harps upon the weeping willows, and sit listening to the murmuring stream, but often tune them to the praise of God. Gratitude is a pleasing and powerful affection, when grace is its source, and God its object. Let not the fire, kindled on the altar of the heart, become half extinguished by the ashes which surround it, or be damped and deadened for want of being fed, and stirred up by devotion, It may prove useful to consider what great things God has done for us. While we number the mercies of a covenant, ordered in all things and sure; while we explore that ocean, which has neither bottom nor shore; surely each may exclaim, "Bless the Lord, O

my soul; and all that is within me bless his holy name. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits!"

The Christian has always a double errand to the throne of grace; he has to ask new favours, and to acknowledge past favours; yet, while our whole attention is taken up with the former, is not the latter too often forgotten? The perfections of God, considered in every view, are sufficient to raise our wonder; but when considered as bearing so benign an aspect towards us, and showering countless blessings upon us, they ought to ravish our hearts, and strengthen every good affection with the ties of gratitude.

5. Fervency is also requisite in the performance of the duty of prayer. Fervency is opposed to formality and lukewarmness. When prayer is attended to as a matter of mere custom, it becomes a lifeless, insipid ceremony. Sin is confessed, but not forsaken or hated; blessings are asked, but not desired. God complains of Israel, "This people draweth near to me with their mouth, but their heart is far from me.' The cause of lukewarmness in prayer is sufficiently evident in the character given of the Laodiceans. Those who know not that they are wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked; but think they are rich and increased with goods, and have need of nothing; will, as a matter of course, sit at

their ease in Zion. "When thou prayest," says Bunyan, "rather let thy heart be without words, than thy words without heart. And pray often; for prayer is a shield to the soul, a sacrifice to God, and a scourge for Satan." But earnestness is not agitation of body, or loud outcries, which may arise from the sudden movement of the animal spirits. God looketh not on the outward appearance, but on the heart. A dead prayer is not fit to be presented to the living God. The living soul is the heir of the promise, and the lively prayer reaps the fruit of the inheritance. In regard to temporal things, our petitions are indeed sufficiently importunate; although, from the limitation of our views, when a favourite object is before us, we know not whether it may prove a blessing or a curse. "Give me children, or I die," said Rachel; yet she died, not by the denial, but the fulfilment of her request. But with regard to spiritual blessings, the case is quite different. "There," as one observes, "where we cannot be too earnest, we seem frequently as if we had nothing to implore. Our minds are a blank; our thoughts are distracted. We have no apprehension of the number of our wants. We have few petitions to offer, and a cursory short devotion serves us. Fervour is to devotion, what the fire is to the incense in the censer, making it rise heavenward as a grateful