prayer. To be effectual, it must be sincere, it must be ardent. It must combine and concentrate our most fervid aspirations. Let it be noted also, that our prayers are to be made with thanksgiving. Here is another distinction, which implies an employment of the whole heart, an absorption of the whole mind, in this religious exercise. For thanksgiving, where it is sincere-and it can be of no avail where it is not-elevates the soul, occupies it, absorbs it. It frequently produces this effect, even when offered to men, to whom we really can owe so little; much more, then, should it do so when offered to God, to whom our obligations are so mighty and prevailing. Let us remember, too, that "He who knew no sin," but became the Saviour of a guilty world, constantly retired to pray; that a daily portion of his life was occupied in prayer; that the whole of his public ministry was dedicated to the service of God by the works which he wrought for the benefit of man. He was spotless, sinless, perfect; still he dedicated a large portion of his time to devotion. His example, then, must be to us a sufficient earnest of its necessity. It will be obvious, that if He found it necessary to pray, it must be more necessary for us to do so. And where shall we want an inducement thus to address the fountain of light and life, when we are assured, that "he will regard the supplication of the destitute, and not despise their prayer"?

And yet, how is this most important duty neg

lected! How few are there among us who perform it as we should! How few even among those who assemble here so especially under God's all-seeing eye to offer Him their homage, "sing praises to Him with understanding," glory in his holy name, or "serve him with joyfulness!" If I were to ask you for what purpose we are assembled here, you would no doubt, readily confess, that it is "to lift up our faces unto God;" to praise Him in his holy temple, and declare our delight in him; to wean our thoughts for awhile from the world and its temptations, to acknowledge our sins, to bewail our infirmities, to implore his pardon, and to supplicate his grace. You will allow, that we come here to renew our petitions to "the author and finisher of our faith, Jesus Christ the righteous," for his advocacy with the Father in our behalf; to promise in the public assembly of his worshippers "to amend our lives according to his holy word;" to offer unto Him the sacrifice of a contrite heart. You will readily acknowledge, that we come here to pray; and yet how do many, who come with that professed purpose, perform it? With heartless negligence, with lifeless apathy, with frigid indifference! Shall I be far from the truth when I assert, that the public worship of our church is but too often scarcely better than a solemn pantomime? A service of action rather than of fervid aspiration; an offering of words rather than of thoughts, of outward forms than of holy purposes? The ges

tures of devotion are, indeed, assumed, though the worshipper's heart is frequently fixed anywhere but on his God. "God is not in all his thoughts," perhaps occupies none of them; and though it may be said of him, "behold he prayeth," it is nothing more than that unmeaning ejaculation of "Lord, Lord," with which Christ reproaches those Pharisees who prayed rather to be "seen of men," than to "have praise of God." But let the formalist consider, are not such prayers a mockery? Are they not an insult to "the mighty Majesty on High"? Who can think such worship worthy the divine favour? It were better never to pray than to do it with coldness, indifference, or neglect. To neglect the Almighty altogether, is, if possible, less criminal than to mock Him with pretences.

Suffer me to remind you, that simply "treading the courts of the sanctuary," and joining in the forms of its worship, without an engagement of the heart to Him who spiritually presides there, will avail nothing in securing his favour. There is no magic in the mere walls of a church, to "break the bonds" of sin, to purify the soul, and bring it "without spot to God." It may, in truth, imbibe deeper stains of corruption within God's temple than out of it, where that temple is made the scene of unholy thoughts, hypocritical pretensions, worldly abstractions, and indecent irreverence; where religion is made the cloak of vice, and hypocrisy lies bedded in the heart. For, although "God heareth

the prayers of the righteous," and those prayers "are his delight;" nevertheless, the mere lip-services of the formalist "his soul hateth, they are a trouble unto Him, He is weary to bear them." It is, indeed, dangerous not to pray, but it is still more dangerous to pray with inattention, carelessness and irreverence. Although prayer is absolutely necessary towards our rendering the sacrifice, which the Saviour made for our sins, an available sacrifice to us, still, I repeat, that our prayers must possess certain qualities to render them effectual. Whilst they exhibit only the "outward and visible sign" of piety, they will possess no inherent value. The vital principle must elevate them to devotion, or they will be nothing better than the "tinkling cymbal."

Christ himself assures us, "whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive." The necessity of prayer is here, too, unequivocally implied, because it is only what we ask in prayer that is promised. That it must be something beyond the mere external form of supplication, is further implied by the qualification expressed as necessary to render it efficacious—namely, faith; and where this exists in full activity, the heart must be holy before God. It is the "effectual, fervent prayer only of the righteous man which availeth;" the greatest sinner, however, becomes righteous when he repents and turns from the error of his ways. Let us then heartily pray that we

may be "cleansed from all filthiness of flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God."

We shall now consider the danger of neglecting prayer. To neglect to pray, is to neglect the means of salvation. A negligence of God must ensue, and finally the ruin of ourselves. For to what danger does such negligence expose us? To the danger of being abandoned by him who alone can "lift up them that are fallen:" to the danger of being "given over to a reprobate mind:" to the danger of being left to fill up the measure of our guilt, "to work iniquity with greediness," so that we may receive the greater condemnation. Prayer is the breath of the righteous soul. Without this, it can have no spiritual life. It must be "dead in trespasses and sins," and, whilst it so continues, must be excluded from all chance of happiness in the life everlasting. Oh, Lord! who can refuse to supplicate thy gracious favour, where it is so freely granted to our petitions, "for thou art good and ready to forgive, and plenteous in mercy to all them that call upon thee!" Shall we then think, that where our petitions, when devoutly presented, are so graciously received, we can innocently forbear to offer them? We cannot surely forget that when we do pray, our chief supplications to that God, who is so " plenteous in mercy," are for forgiveness of our sins; but can we expect that these should be forgiven if we are too proud, too stubborn, or too negligent, constantly to sup