ment during the day, to worship God But a devout frame of mind will not want matter, even in the busiest season, at least for pious reflection and ejaculation. It is not the length of the prayer, but the spirit which dictates it, that God regards. In the midst of business, therefore, things will occur to lead the soul to bless God, and to lift up the heart to him in prayer. The nearness of danger, the presence of temptation, the recollection of sin, the view of the carelessness and sinfulness of too many around us, the sight of the evil consequences which sin has entailed on the world, and the cares and trials to which we are subject: these awaken a sense of our need of Divine aid, and excite our petitions for it. So also the recollection of the love and mercy of God in spiritual blessings; the enjoyment of temporal mercies; the sight of dear friends, or the news of their welfare; the view of the sun shining in his strength, or the fields waving with plenty; these cannot fail to draw out the heart of a devout person in aspirations of praise to God. "At noon I will pray."

Such is a sketch of the view which will occur to every devout person at the several seasons of the day: "At evening and morning, and noon-day will I pray." I shall now conclude with a brief address on the subject.

1. Let us make use of what has been said as a test to try the state of our souls.-Have we a heart to worship God? It must be allowed that nothing can be more natural, or more just, than to implore the aid of that great Being from whom all we have is derived, and to return thanks to him, who is the author of all our comforts. What shall we say then to those who have no inclination to worship God; on whom the morning rises, but witnesses in them no return of gratitude to Him who has renewed the face of nature and restored their

vigour, who go into the world with no desire or care for his blessing in whom they also live, and move, and have their being; who never think of him that hath given them their understanding, their health, their prosperity; who lie down at night without any reflection on the events of the day, or a single supplication for pardon and protection; who never call their families together to worship God, and join with them in adoration; who even when in the house of God are present indeed with their bodies, but are absent with their souls? Will nothing then remind them of God? Can they look upward to the heavens, or down upon the earth; can they look forward to futurity, or backward on their past lives; can they look inwards, and consider the faculties of their souls; can they contemplate all these objects which so plainly point to God, and, in silent but most expressive language, bid us adore him, and not be moved? Can morning after morning, and evening after evening, recur to remind them of God, of death, of the changeful state of all things here below, and yet no impression be made? Can they even go into the house of God, where every thing combines to direct their thoughts to him, and be proof against it all-sit as it were in the presence of God and be unmoved, and be unthankful, and be without the spirit of prayer? Alas! with too many this is the case. All the course of nature preaches to us the duty we owe to God, if man had but a heart to attend. And is not that great depravity which can be so forgetful of God? We hope to live in heaven for ever: but heaven is the theatre of worship; nor can those be happy there who could not endure worship here. We hope to dwell with God for ever, and yet cannot bear to think of him or to address him. Can we, in this case, take pleasure in God if admitted into his presence, or can he take pleasure in us and our con

duct? O let us see the sin of not having a heart to pray to and worship God, and see the necessity of imploring a new heart, and seeking to have a right spirit renewed within us!

2. Let me exhort you to consider prayer as a good test of the state of your souls.-It is the disposition of the heart to which God looks, and which in fact regulates the character and conduct. Now where the heart is right, there will be a strong disposition to cultivate a close communion with God; and not only will the proper seasons of prayer be observed, but the mind will be full of such reflections as have been suggested. They require neither genius nor learning. They ask only a heart sensible of the goodness and mercy of God, and desirous of obtaining his grace. This indeed is not a disposition natural to man. It is the gift of God through faith in Christ Jesus. The Gospel reveals him to us, as restoring men to the favour and fellowship of God. By nature the heart is at enmity with him, and then it feels no inclination to pray to him. But when the mercy of God in Christ Jesus has softened the bard heart-and a deep conviction of sin, its malignity, and its danger has made us to feel our need of Divine forgiveness---then the soul will be incited, and as it were formed, to prayer. Prayer will become our most delightful exercise. It will not only be a duty we must perform, but the enjoyment of our purest and highest pleasure.-Now may the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ grant unto us the spirit of supplication and prayer, that we may pray always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and may watch thereunto with all perseverance. Amen.

To the Editor of the Christian Observer.

As I perceive that you occasionally admit into your miscellany extracts

He believes himself freely pardoned, and yet a sufficient satisfac tion was made for him.

He believes himself to be precious in God's sight, and yet lothes himself in his own. He dares not justify himself even in these things wherein he can find no fault with himself, and yet believes God accepts him in those services wherein he is able to find many faults.

The more injury his enemies do him, the more advantages he gains by them. The more he forsakes worldly things, the more he enjoys them.

He is the most temperate of all men, yet fares most deliciously. He lends and gives most freely, yet be is the greatest usurer.

He desires to have more grace than any man hath in the world, yet is truly sorrowful when he seeth any man have less than himself.

He knoweth, if he please man he cannot be the servant of Christ; yet for Christ's sake he pleaseth all men in all things.

He believes Christ to have no need of any thing he doth; yet maketh account that he doth relieve Christ, in all his acts of charity.

He knoweth he can do nothing of himself, yet labours to work out his own salvation.

He knoweth he shall not be

saved by, not for his good works; yet he doth all the good works he

can.

He knoweth God's providence is in all things, yet is so diligent in his calling and business as if he were to cut out the thread of his happiness.

He thinks sometimes that the ordinances of God do him no good; yet he would rather part with his life than be deprived of them.

The world will sometimes account him a saint, when God ac counteth him a hypocrite; and afterwards, when the world brand. eth him for an hypocrite, then God owneth him for a saint.

His Advocate, his Surety, shall be his Judge: his mortal part shall become immortal; and what was sown in corruption and defilement, shall be raised in incorruption and glory; and a finite creature shall possess an infinite happiness.Glory be to God.*

To the Editor of the Christian Observer.

I BEG leave to solicit your opinion relative to a practice into which I have lately been led, but of the propriety of which I have some doubts.

At my church which is the mother church of a considerable country parish, and where the number of communicants is generally very large, it has been the custom for the curate of a chapel of ease always to assist in the administration of the Lord's Supper.

On the two last communion days, however, he was unavoidably prevented from lending me the accustomed help; and I was reduced to the necessity of either detaining the congregation for an unreasonable length of time, or administer

* Bacon's Works 8vo. 1803. Vol. II. pages 494-499.

ing the sacrament to two persons at once. once. I adopted the latter plan, though with some doubts as to its propriety. And though this shortened the service on Christimas-day, it was not concluded till after three o'clock. At that inclement season, and in a church unusually cold and damp, a confinement of such length must be very prejudicial to the health; and in more than one instance, the effects of it are felt to this day. But, sir, how would the event have been aggravated, had I not adopted the plan just men tioned! The long confinement of the communicating part of the congregation, however, would not have been all: the afternoon service would thereby have been either entirely prevented, or, at least, but very thinly attended. Now, sir, I wish to have your opinion, as to the propriety and expediency of administering the bread and wine to two or more persons, with only one repetition of the appointed words.-Yourself, Mr. Editor, or some of your corto inform me, whether, in churches respondents, will perhaps be able where great numbers communicate, this mode of administering is commonly resorted to, and also whether tionary power, as this deviation a clergyman has any such discrefrom common usage implies, or whether it is regarded as an unjustifiable departure from the esta blished discipline of the church. I have never, except once (before I was in orders) been present where this mode of administering the sacrament was practised, and that was at a church in Manchester: the number of communicants was about 500: there were two ministers, and the appointed words were pronounced to every four or six

persons.

I am, &c.

CLERICUS LANCASTRIENSIS.

To the Editor of the Christian Observer, A WORK has recently appeared, entitled "A Visit to Paris," by Mr. Scott, which conveys some highly interesting information on the moral state of that capital. Presuming his statements to be correct (of which, independently of a variety of concurring testimony, I think there appears internal evidence), it is impossible not to contemplate with the deepest emotion the universal profligacy and vice in which the metropolis of the French Em pire is immersed. The judgments of the late Revolution, and the mercies of the more recent peace, ap. pear to have been equally un heeded by infidel France; and, while a restless ambition prompts her to vex and desolate other nations, she appears to be as ill at ease herself as the victim of unhallowed passions in private life, who feels not a pang the less because he is inflicting misery on all around him. The irrational devotion to amusement in every shape, the pursuit of sensual indulgence in all its varieties, and the contempt of all practical religion and personal virtue are strongly marked by this writer; and if it be true that "righteousness exalteth a nation," while "sin is a reproach to any people," if it be true that there is a nearer connection between national guilt and national punishment, than some sceptical observers would have us believe, then is the situation of our neighbours at the present moment calculated at once to excite our commiseration for them, and to operate as a warning to ourselves.

Without detaining you longer with prefatory remarks, I shall extract the greatest part of a chapter from the work in question, and conclude with some observations arising out of the subject.

"Paris seems, at first sight, a place devoted solely to enjoyment, and it is difficult to devise how every one is so well provided with the means. In the principal streets, almost every second house has a part of it devoted to amusement or luxurious gratification of some sort. The shops appear to be almost exclusively occupied with embellishments and eatables; and, certainly, wherever, superior inge nuity is shewn, on which Paris may fairly plume herself, it is in the manufacture of some decoration, some piece of vertu, some elegant trifle. The fashionable Boulevardes are lined with baths, where you may lie in warm water, and have the most delicious refreshments *floated towards you from an invisible hand,-Cafés, where coffee and liqueurs are taken,- Restaurateurs, where dinners are served,-Patissiers, where you may regale on patties and ices,-theatres, and billiard rooms. But the Palais Royal, which is justly said by the Parisians to be without its equal in the world, demands to be principally noticed, now that I am to touch on these subjects.

"It is a square enclosure, form ed of the buildings of the Orleans Palace;-piazzas make a covered walk along three of its sides, and the center is an open gravelled space, with a few straight lines of slim trees running along its length, There is a neat compact elegance visible in the architecture of what was the palace, but the building is now insignificant compared with its purposes, and you can no more attend to its proportions than you could fix your attention on the prospects adorning the banks of a river, if you were hurried dowp one of its cataracts.

"The climate of France and the character of the French conspire