in the breasts of our hearers. But, if our devotional feelings are habitually languid, if our hearts do not teach our lips, it is, perhaps, advisable to aim at nothing beyond a monotonous solemnity, rather than, by affecting what we do not feel, to incur the certain displeasure of our Master, and the probable contempt of our most judicious hearers. If we have no thoughts or feelings that glow, it is worse than useless to affect words that burn.'

"Another fault, which is not unfrequently found in our devotional performances, I know not how to describe better than by saying, that it consists in praying more like an awakened, but still impenitent, sinner, or more as such a character might be supposed to pray, than like a real Christian. Different causes, probably, tend to the adoption of this method. Some are apparently led to it by doubts respecting their own character. They often suspect that they are not truly pious, and, therefore, fear to utter the language of a pious heart. Others seem to adopt it in consequence of false humility. They fear it would be thought indicative of pride, should they use expressions which intimate that they think themselves to be the real disciples of Christ. A third class probably adopt this method with a view to offer prayers in which awakened, but still impenitent, sinners may join. But, whatever may be the motives which lead to the adoption of such a method, it is, I conceive, a fault which ought to be avoided. It is, indeed, a common, and, with some limitation, a just remark, that a minister is the mouth of his people to God. It is, however, of the pious part of his congregation, only, that he is the mouth. His prayer, then, should be the echo, not of an impenitent, but of a pious heart, to the voice of God. He should pray with those who are pious, and for those who are not so. Instead of praying that himself, and those who unite with him, may exercise the feelings of a Christian, he should explicitly express those feelings. This is necessary for his own sake, if he be truly pious; for, if he be so, he cannot sincerely utter the language of an impenitent heart. It is necessary for the sake of his pious hearers; for while he is attempting to form a prayer in which all may join, he will utter many expressions in which they cannot unite. It is also necessary even for the sake of his impenitent hearers ; for it is highly important for them to be convinced, that they do not, and, with their present feelings, cannot pray; and nothing will tend more effectually to convince them of this important truth, than listening to prayers in which truly pious feelings and holy exercises are distinctly expressed.

"For similar reasons, it is desirable that we should not always pray in a manner suited only to inexperienced, weak, or declining Christians. Instead of descending to their standard, we must endeavour to raise them to ours. If we wish our people to feel dissatisfied with their present attainments, and to become eminent Christians, we must

accustom them to hear the devotional language of eminent Christians, by uttering such language in our prayers, if, indeed, we can do it without uttering what we do not feel. As an eagle tempts her young to soar higher than they would dare to do were they not encouraged by her example, so the minister of Christ should, occasionally at least, allure his people to the higher region of devotion, by taking a bolder flight than usual, and uttering the language of strong faith, ardent love, unshaken confidence, assured hope, and rapturous gratitude, admiration, and joy. Some of his hearers can, probably, at all times follow him, and many others who at first tremble and hesitate; many, who would scarcely dare adopt the same language in their closets, will gradually catch the sacred flame; their hearts will burn within them. While their pastor leads the way, they will mount up, as on eagles' wings, toward heaven, and return from the house of prayer, not cold and languid, as they entered, but glowing with the fires of devotion. In this, as well as in other respects, it will in some measure be, ‘like priest, like people.' If we thus strike the golden harp of devotion, we shall soon find our pious hearers able to accompany us through its whole compass of sound, from the low notes of humble, penitential sorrow, up to the high, heart-thrilling tones of rapturous joy, admiration, love, and praise, which are in union with the harps of the redeemed before the throne.

"Another fault, sometimes found in devotional performances which are otherwise unexceptionable, is the want of sufficient particularity. Indeed, most of our public prayers are too general. They bring so much into view, that nothing is seen distinctly. It is well known, that, if we except sublime and terrible objects, nothing affects the mind, unless it be clearly and distinctly perceived. If the most admired descriptive poems, and those which produce the greatest effect upon our feelings, be carefully examined, it will be found that they derive their power to affect us almost entirely from a minute and striking description of a few judiciously-selected particulars. It is the same with our devotional performances. We may praise God, or confess sin, or pray for mercy, or return thanks for Divine favour, in a general way, without being ourselves affected, and without exciting the affections of our hearers. But when we descend to particulars, the effect is different. The mind receives, drop after drop, till it is full. We should, therefore, aim at as great a degree of particularity, as the time allotted us, and the variety of topics on which we must touch, will allow. Especially it is important, that we enter deeply and particularly into every part of Christian experience, and lay open all the minute ramifications, and almost imperceptible workings of the pious heart, in its various situations, and thus show our hearers to themselves in every point of view. In a word, our public prayers should resemble, as nearly as propriety will allow, the breathings of an humble, judicious,

and fervently-pious Christian, in his private devotions. The prayer of the pulpit differs too much-it should differ as little as possible-from the prayer of the closet. A neglect in this particular often renders our performances uninteresting and unacceptable to those whom we should most desire to gratify.

“Such, I conceive, are the principal defects, which are most frequently found in our devotional performances. It is obvious that they are all occasioned, either wholly or in part, by a languid state of devotional feeling; and the only effectual remedy is to be sought in the diligent cultivation of a frame of temper habitually devout. That a minister may lead the devotions of his people in the most suitable and edifying manner, it seems indispensable that he should possess a mind deeply imbued with Divine truth; a mind, into the very frame and texture of which the doctrines of revelation are wrought; and a heart thoroughly broken and humbled for sin, and tremblingly alive to the voice of God, and ever glowing with celestial fire. He who, with such a mind, and such a heart, lives much in his closet, 'praying,' as the apostle expresses it, 'in the Holy Ghost,' and habitually imploring his assistance to help his infirmities, will always lead the devotions of his people in a judicious, edifying, and acceptable manner; nor will he need the aid of a precomposed form. In his prayers, as well as in his sermons, he will constantly bring out of his treasury things new and old. But if our hearts will not pray, or teach us in what manner to cry to our heavenly Father and Redeemer, our understandings must; and we must either compose or borrow forms for that purpose. How far, in this case, we can be considered as called to the work of the ministry, or fitted for it, is not for me to say; but, surely, he who can contemplate the wonders of creation, and yet find nothing to say to his Maker; still more, he who can meditate on the mysteries of redeeming love, and behold the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ, without feeling praises ready to burst spontaneously from his lips, has some reason to fear that he possesses little of the spirit of heaven, and that he has never learned that new song which none can learn but those who are redeemed from the earth; for, with reference to this subject, it may be emphatically said, in the words of inspiration, the heart of the wise teacheth his mouth, and addeth learning to his lips.'

*The influence of the heart upon the devotional exercises of the pulpit, was strikingly displayed in the case of the Rev. Cornelius Winter. Mr. Jay, in his "Memoirs" of that excellent man, says: "I have heard many pray, but I never heard one that prayed entirely like him. I never knew him at a loss for a word, or using a word improperly. Such was the copiousness, such the flexibility of his talent, that, without any premeditation, he could perfectly accommodate his language to every occurrence. He introduced little things with dignity, and delicate ones without offence. This gave him great advantages, as he was enabled at all times to notice, very affectionately, the various and minute circumstances of his people. Were some to attempt this, who possess not his richness and ease of diction, N. S. VOL. VII. 3 s

ON LOW VIEWS OF CHRISTIAN PRIVILEGE AND
ENJOYMENT.

It is a very frequent complaint amongst Christians, that "the saints do not live up to their privileges;" that, in outward prosperity, they are too fondly attached to the good things of this life; and in adversity they bemoan the loss of them, in a manner rather inconsistent with the profession that their treasure is in heaven. Those who profess to be "risen with Christ," still set their affections on things on the earth; and while with due orthodoxy they sing,

"Why should the children of a king

Go mourning all their days?"

seem nevertheless to think, that a mournful resignation is all that can justly be expected of them, amid the trials and disappointments of this life.

Now, as all professing Christians will freely admit that this temper of mind is wrong, it especially behoves the teachers of the church to avoid giving any encouragement to it; either by dwelling too little on the glorious privileges of the children of God, or by too sympathetically condoling with them on the loss or privation of worldly possessions. The following extract from one of Emerson's "Essays," though something of a caricature, may afford a useful hint to young preachers, as revealing how such a train of thought affects a man of great power, but who has, we fear, little sympathy with revealed truth.

"I was lately confirmed in these desires, by hearing a sermon at church. The preacher, a man esteemed for his orthodoxy, unfolded in the ordinary manner the doctrine of the last judgment. He assumed that judgment is not executed in this world; that the wicked are successful; that the good are miserable; and then urged from reason and from Scripture a compensation to be made to both parties in the next life. No offence appeared to be taken by the congregation at this doctrine. As far as I could observe, when the meeting broke up, they separated without remark on the sermon.

"Yet what was the import of this teaching? What did the preacher mean by saying that the good are miserable in the present life? Was it that houses and lands, offices, wine, horses, dress, luxury, are had

it would only embarrass them, and render them formal and absurd. I am persuaded, that much of his devotional fluency arose from the state of his heart: 'for out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.' The purity and fervour of his benevo lence, made his tongue as the pen of a ready writer. We can easily plead for those

we love, and he loved all he beheld. In one of his letters he beautifully remarks, in allusion to the words of our Saviour, that when he looked down upon the congregation, he saw everywhere his brother, his sister, his mother.' No wonder such a man could pray or preach. The Sabbath morning he was more than ordinarily devotional, and commonly indulged himself at length, especially in intercession; at other times, he was rather short."-Memoirs, pp. 213, 214.

by unprincipled men, whilst the saints are poor and despised; and that a compensation is to be made to these last hereafter, by giving the like gratifications another day-bank-stock and doubloons, venison and champagne? This must be the compensation intended; for what else? Is it that they are to have leave to pray and praise? to love and serve men? Why, that they can do now. The legitimate inference the disciple would draw, was-' We are to have such a good time as the sinners have now; or, to push it to its extreme import-'You sin now; we shall sin by and by; we would sin now if we could; not being successful, we expect our revenge to-morrow.'

"The fallacy lay in the immense concession that the bad are successful; that justice is not done now. The blindness of the preacher consisted in deferring to the base estimate of the market of what constitutes a manly success, instead of confronting and convicting the world from the truth: announcing the presence of the soul, the omnipotence of the wise; and so establishing the standard of good and ill, of success and falsehood, and summoning the dead to its present tribunal."* H.

ON CHRISTIANS FAILING IN BUSINESS. BANKRUPTCY is become a common thing. It is so common, that unless the case be marked with flagrant iniquity, the bankrupt loses no cast in society. He settles his affairs, gets his certificate, soon furnishes another genteel house, commences business again, and meets his townsmen and creditors, as coolly as if nothing had happened. That such a thing should occur with unprincipled, ungodly men, is not a matter of surprise; but that men professing, and calling themselves Christians, should act in such a manner, is deeply to be deplored. It has been remarked, whether true or not, that a very large proportion of failures in business, takes place among persons making pretensions to religion. If the affirmation be true, it is a thing much to be lamented; if not, it may serve as a salutary admonition to Christians, to "owe no man any thing," lest the offence of the world should be excited against the Gospel. It must, however, be admitted, that within a few years, there have been failures in business, among men who have been esteemed as real Christians, to a very considerable extent.

There is not a town in the kingdom, nor, perhaps, a denomination of Christians, in which there may not be found persons who have failed in trade. How many banks have stopped; how many commercial houses have closed; how many little tradesmen have either compounded or failed entirely? and all these different classes have furnished their quota of professedly religious men.

There are many causes which produce this evil. Sometimes Provi

* Essays by R. W. Emerson, of Concord, Massachusetts. Essay iii.