Sincerity of prayer. Ardor in prayer. All can pray who like to.

III. Sincerity of prayer. Prayer is, in all ordinary cases, and it ought to be, a calm and peaceful exercise, not an agitating one. Many persons wait the hour of prayer in trying to feel some deep agitation, imagining that sincere and acceptable prayer cannot be offered without it. You must be sincere when you pray, but you may be calm. Read our Savior's model of prayer-" Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, &c." What a peaceful, quiet spirit it breathes! The great question in regard to your prayer being acceptable is this: Do you wish for any thing which you know no one but God can grant, and are you willing to ask him in the name of Jesus Christ? If so, come at once and ask him. Ask with that degree of feeling which your interest in the request prompts, and no more. If you wish to increase your feciing, you cannot do it in any way, except by increasing your interest in the request. You may give additional vividness to your idea of the value of the object sought, by thinking of it, and considering how great a blessing it would be to you if granted, and thus you may increase your ardor in prayer. But all direct attempts to produce this ardor by effort will fail; or if they succeed in producing some sort of excitement, it is not a healthy, acceptable interest in prayer.

Now, after this explanation, those who read this can easily tell whether they are prepared to offer, this night, acceptable prayer to God. Do you wish to have God take care of you while you sleep? I do not mean, do you wish to be safe-every body wishes to be safe; but do you wish to have God at your bedside, protecting you? If you do not, if the feeling of his presence would be a burden to you and a restraint, of course you will not ask him to come. But suppose you are desirous of having him present, are you then willing to ask him? I do not inquire

Right spirit of prayer.

Difficulty.

whether you are willing to struggle a long time with your heart to awaken deep feeling enough to justify, in your opinion, coming to God. Are you willing, as you retire to rest to-night, to breathe a short and simple petition to God to come and be your friend and protector for the night, to acknowledge that you do not deserve his protection, and that you ask it in the name of Jesus Christ? If you are willing to do this, and if you actually do it, and if you ask with that degree of feeling which your sincere desire for God's protection prompts, you may lie down in peace, sure that you have offered acceptable prayer.

But here I must mention a difficulty which many and many a time has been brought to me by serious-minded persons who wish to pray to God, but who think they should not pray aright. I presume this difficulty has occurred to many who will read this chapter. I fancy I can perceive thoughts like these passing through the mind of some thoughtful conscientious one, who has taken up this book honestly desiring to find in it religious instruction.

"If I understand the author right, he says, that if I tonight pray to God to protect me, just because I want protection, or rather because I want his protection, that will be acceptable prayer. But it seems to me that that would be mere selfishness. I wish for a great many things which I know none but God can grant, but I ask them only because I feel the need of them, it is only a selfish desire for my own happiness, and I cannot expect to be heard. I should like such a friend as Jesus Christ, that I might come to him in all my trials and troubles, and might seek strength from him in temptation. But then this is all love of my own happiness. I cannot be happy in sin ;-there is a foreboding and a burden from which I wish to be relieved. But unless I have a higher motive than a wish to obtain peace and happiness myself, I cannot expect to be heard."

Reply.

Invitation to the weary.

The prodigal.

I have no doubt there are multitudes who are substantially in this state of mind. They are deterred by this difficulty from coming cordially to their great Friend above. I have stated the difficulty as distinctly and fully as I can, adopting as nearly as possible the words in which it has often been presented to me. I hope you will attend carefully to my reply, and if it is satisfactory now, lay it up in your memories, and never be embarrassed by this difficulty again.

My reply is substantially this-that a desire for the peace and happiness of piety is a perfectly proper motive for coming to God. It is the motive which the Bible every where presents. It is not, in any proper sense of the term, selfishness.

First, I say it is a perfectly proper motive. God is our great Creator and Protector, and he made us weak and dependant, but desirous of peace and happiness, for the very purpose of having us look to him for it. He never intended to make a universe of stoics, in which each one should be entirely indifferent about his own happiness. The spectacle which he wishes to see is all happy, and all happy in him. He wishes us to desire and seek his happiness, and to come to him for it.

Again, I say that the Bible every where presents the peace and happiness of piety as the motive why we should seek it. Jesus stood and cried in a great concourse of people, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." How strange that any one can imagine after this, that a love of rest and a desire to be relieved of burden, is not a proper motive for coming to Jesus Christ! The prodigal son, perhaps the most striking and complete emblem of the penitent sinner which the Bible contains, says, "How many hired servants of my father have bread enough and to spare, while I perish with hunger! I will arise and go to my father." Who would think, after reading this parable, that

A nobleman.

The desk.

any sinner would be afraid to come to the Savior because his motive is to have his wants supplied? Look at the thousands who came to our Savior to be healed of their diseases, or to be rescued from some suffering. Did he ever turn them away because they came for their own benefit? A nobleman came once. His son was at the point of death. Parental affection urged him on. He came and begged the Savior to come and save his son. He was so far from being under the influence of any high philosophical notions of faith and disinterestedness, that when the Savior began to speak of faith and the influence of miracles upon it, he almost interrupted him by saying, "Come down, ere my child die." And did the Savior repulse him, and say he was influenced by wrong motives? It was not a wrong motive. He wanted happiness, and he was willing to come to Jesus Christ for it. And God wishes to see the whole human race eager for the pure joys of piety, and flocking around his throne to obtain them. O, if any of you are weary with the burden of sin, and long for the peace and happiness of piety, come boldly for it. Never fear that God will call it selfishness. and drive you away.

Once more; I said this could not be called selfishness; desiring the happiness of virtue, and taking the proper measures to preserve it, never is called selfishness, except by persons lost in the mazes of metaphysics. Suppose two children, whose parents had taught them habits of regularity and order so fully that they take pleasure in the systematic arrangement of all their little property, come and ask their father to let them have a large desk which stands useless in the garret, to bring to their little room, as a place of deposit for their books, and papers, and toys. Suppose now he should inquire of the boys, and should find that they have planned the disposal of their effects exactly in the shelves and drawers of the desk, and are anticipating much enjoyment from the ex

The father's refusal.

Real selfishness.

pected acquisition. He sees their countenances brightened with animation as they wait breathlessly to catch his answer, and then to fly away and commence the removal. Now suppose the father should stop them by such absurd words as these:

“My boys, I am very sorry to find that you are so selfish. I strongly suspect that the reason why you want that desk is because you expect some pleasure from it. Perhaps you think you will enjoy your property more by seeing it well arranged in such a good store-house, or perhaps you think you can spend rainy afternoons in your room more pleasantly if you have it. Now that is very wrong; that is selfishness. To desire any thing for the sake of the happiness which it affords is selfishness. Unless you can ask for some better motive than that, I cannot grant your requests."

I do not think that any gravity of countenance which could be assumed would lead the boys to imagine that their father could be serious in this. Certainly no parent would ever say it; and if earthly parents know how to give good gifts to their children, how much more shall your heavenly Father give his holy Spirit to them that ask him? that is, to them that ask him for it as a good gift, something which is to do good to them.

But what is selfishness? Why, if the desk, instead of lying useless in the garret, was used by the older brothers, and the younger wished to take it away, that would be selfishness. A disposition to encroach upon the rights and enjoyments of others in order to secure our own, is selfishness; and we must not come to God with this spirit. If any one however desires peace and happiness, and is satisfied that God only can give it, let him come and ask. "Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters.' "God never will repulse you, because thirst urges you to come.

It is a very common impression among young persons,