ground, was the bed on which she lay,|| by a sick bed where disease held such with a single coverlet, neat but scanty, to protect her from the dust or the rain drops that alternately assailed her tenement. By her side stood a small table, having on it a cup of water, and her Bible; and at her feet stood a little girl, ten or twelve years old, to give the cup of water, or to read the holy book by turns to her languishing grandmother; and for her a stool was ready, from which she blushingly arose, as she saw "the strangers" come in. The clergyman immediately entered into conversation with the dying Christian; and after some inquiries into the history of her life, and the progress of the disease that was now closing her earthly career, he examined the foundations of her hope, and inspired her with that confidence in his Christian and fraternal feelings, which led to the unreserved communication of her Christian experience, But at this distance of time, and without my notes at hand, 1 dare not attempt to detail it. The impression made, however, of the value of religion, and of its mighty power in sustaining the soul through its conflict with the last enemy, time can never efface; and the hectic flush was on her cheek; her voice was weak and tremulous; her limbs could not sustain the weight even of her emaciated frame, and she lay helpless on her bed of straw; but the presence of God was felt; her sorrows were forgotten amid her overflowing joys. Never was it my privilege to witness deeper humility, in combination with strong and overpowering faith;-never, to see the tears of repentance blend so perfectly with the rays of celestial hope on human countenance,-never, to hear the sighs of a spirit grieving over surrounding wickedness, mingle in such sweet accordance with the triumphant aspirations of a saint, feeling itself already on the verge of heaven. There was nothing flighty in any expression that fell from her lips; but all was peace, love, filial confidence, and chastened joy, in the prospect of being soon with Jesus, and of being LIKE him for ever. I have never stood by the sick bed of any Christian, where faith more gloriously triumphed than here. Never close companionship with poverty, and with all things most unpleasant to carnal vision; never by a sick bed, with whose occupant I would more cheerfully exchange places; and many are the sick and dying beds, where it has been my happiness to witness the triumphs of piety. But, turning from the scene with my venerable companion, I could not refrain from exclaiming, "O that the rich and the mighty, and the noble of the earth, could all behold together the poor Indian widow, so sweetly breathing her soul into the bosom of Jesus." She lived not long after this. The world had become a tiresome place;" and though her eminent piety claimed for her the affection of some, and the respect of all, she could no longer exert that influence which her heart desired, over the infatuated beings around her, and she panted for the employments, and the joys of a world where prayers and tears are no more needed; where sin and sorrow can no more enter. The noise of revelry often disturbed her. The follies and vices of her tribe distressed her; but evils that she could not remove were patiently endured, and her solitary griefs were poured with humble confidence into the bosom of the Saviour, while her supplications for her "brethren according to the flesh" ceased not, till her spirit returned to the God who gave it. A thousand times has this scene, so long gone by, come up to recollection with all the vividness of the first impression; and as I have wandered in imagination over the hillocks and plains where stood the unsightly wigwams, and the half cultivated fields of the despised Indian, the poor widow, and the track of light she left behind her, marking the way to God, have enchained every thought, and drawn me irresistibly to contemplate those "Sweet fields beyond the living flood, Then again, I have been constrained to contrast her situation on the bed of death, with the situation of others now moving gayly upon the tide of earthly occupation, and then dashing upon rocks and quicksands, to the loss of all gion, whose conscience was exceedthey had anticipated in time and eter-ingly difficult of access; yet he had nity. Compared with them, happy, two pious daughters, one of whom was thrice happy, was the poor Indian now very low with consumption, and widow. he had lately lost another, of lovely character, by the same disease. We met him in his yard, when, after a brief introduction and explanation of our object, the following conversation ensued. Religion, though despised in life, is never dishonoured in death. Its glory shines the clearest, when all earthly splendours are fading away-and even the most profligate among the sons of dissipation are constrained to admire Doubtless, Esq. D., you regard the and wonder when its power is exem-subject of religion as highly importplified in sustaining the soul, during its conflict with the last enemy; and had they witnessed the mingling of celestial hope with the agonies of dissolving nature, in the subject of these remarks, they must have felt the force of an ejaculation of old time: "Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my ant? Yes; my opinion is, that religion is all-important. If it is any thing, it is every thing. By religion, you mean the religion of the Bible, I presume, Mr. D.? Yes; I don't know of any other religion, that I have any faith in. Well, Mr. D., do you adopt the religion of the Bible as the rule of your life? I can't say that I do. I don't want to profess what I do not possess. Many professors of religion, who make a great noise about it, don't seem to me to be any better than some who do not profess. That is doubtless true, I replied; and it is a most humiliating fact, that it is so; but I presume you would say, that all such persons are unworthy professors. You would not regard reli abusing it; and I presume you would not think of urging their false or doubtful professions, as any apology for your neglect to make a true profession of what you believe; would you? Certainly not; but I do not wish to be a hypocrite. There is no character which I despise so much as that. In the autumn of 1831, I was providentially detained a day in the village of C. It was a time of universal attention to the concerns of the soul, and the usual precursors of a revival of religion were exhibited in the church. The pastor was awakened by manifest tokens of the presence of the Holy Ghost; meetings were numerously at-gion any the less important, for their tended, and many members of the church were fervent in prayer, and zealous in exhorting one another to duty. The field was inviting, and, at the request of the pastor I gladly embraced the privilege of visiting for a day, and doing the work of an evangelist, in a neighbourhood a little removed from the centre of the parish, He now invited us into the house, where was considerable wealth and in-and we were seated in the room with telligence, but little religious influence prevailing. A good man accompanied me, to introduce me to the people, and afford me other needed direction. We went from house to house, conversing and praying with such as were disposed to listen to our exhortations, on the great subject of the soul's sal-fidence? vation. As we approached the dwelling of Esquire D, my companion Do you not think these daughters informed me that he was a moral man, are sincere in their professions, and in and highly respectable, but an inge. their prayers and anxieties for their nious caviller on the subject of reli-aged father? his sick daughter. After a few words of conversation with her, in which she appeared perfectly happy, and reconciled to her approaching dissolution, I turned to her father, and said, Mr. D., there are some professors of religion, are there not, in whom you have con Yes; I think there are. Yes; I believe they are. Well, Mr. D., it is a great blessing to have such daughters, if they are truly what they profess to be; and the responsibilities of a father, in such circumstances, appear to me to be very great. Do you not feel that you in cur great guilt, by neglecting religion, against the prayers of your own children, whom God has raised up to point you to the way of life? It may be so, but I do not wish to be a hypocrite. It is not likely that you can, Mr. D The wonder is, that after having spent a long life in impenitence, you have even a tongue left to pray with, or much as the prospect of a few days to devote to the service of Him, when you have so long and so deeply offend ed. But our Father in heaven a cepts according to what a man bath, and invites sinners to his service, even at the eleventh hour. I then told him. that if he desired it we would all kneel and I would pray for him, and at the be You are right, Mr. D., in not wish-close we would remain upon our knees, to give him an opportunity to try to ing to be a hypocrite; but do you not deceive yourself in the He consented, and after a short pray. use of that word. Since you first made pause at the close of my prayer, use of it in our conversation at the poured out the desires of his heart 2 door, I have been reflecting upon its broken language and trembling voice. proper meaning; and you will pardon The scene was melting beyond descripme for saying so, as it becomes us to tion. It was probably the beginning be faithful on this subject; but I must of spiritual life in his soul. From that time he has not ceased to maintain the say, that I think I have never seen a more striking exemplification of my months after he became a member duty of family prayer. Not many own idea of what is meant by a hypo- the church, and has adorned his pro crite, than is presented in your present attitude. A hypocrite is one who acts fession by a life of faith for nearly two contrary to his professed belief. Now, years. you profess to believe that religion is all-important, but, by your neglect, you act as if you had no such belief. Have A PRACTICAL EXPLANATION OF FAITH. you ever thought of the word in this application to yourself? No. But if this be so, what is to be done? If you are really sincere in this question, Mr. D., I am happy, as a minister of Jesus Christ, to inform you. But, if I should tell you what the Lord requires, and convince you of it, do you really mean to do it? He replied with much emotion, I think I do. [Furnished by a Clergyman.] Among the inquirers, at a protracted meeting, held in the village of S frankness, and much knowledge of was a young lady, who showed much Gospel truth. When the duty of submission and trust in the Redeemer was urged, and explained by a variety it; but when I attempt to give myself of comparisons," O," said she," Isee away, and cast myself upon the Sa I then preached to him the necessityviour's arm, there is something in my of repentance and faith in the Saviour, and said to him, that I saw no reason why he should delay a single hour to give himself to Christ. I proposed to him to kneel down then, in the presence of his family, and pray, and consecrate himself to God, for time and eternity. in humble dependence on the grace of God, to keep him from falling. heart which seems to draw back." At the conclusion of the meeting, just as was about to leave the house of God, she came to me, and said, "If I look away from my wicked heart, and look to Christ, will that be right?" "Yes," I replied, "look, and live." I am informed that she still gives good dence, of having seen such loveliness With a faltering voice, and eyes in his holy character, that she has, so swimming with tears, he replied, I do far as man can judge, never been willnot think I could make any thing of aing since that time, to withdraw be? admiring gaze. prayer. evi Vol. VI. Go,................PREACH the GOSPEL.................................. Mark xvi. 15. SEPTEMBER 1, 1833. MONTHLY CONCERT OF PRAYER. VARIETY ESSENTIAL TO SINCERITY IN PRAYER. No. In our last address adapted to the Monthly Concert, we briefly illustrated the importance of variety as essential to the unity of prayer. We now propose to show that variety is equally essential to sincerity in prayer. Every one acquainted with the effect of public speaking, has observed that general expressions make but little impression upon the minds of an audience. It is only when the speaker descends to particulars, and exhibits and elucidates his subject in detail, that he secures attention, and awakens a deep and lively interest, both in his own mind and in the minds of others. The same remark is applicable to the effect of prayer. If, in approaching the throne of grace, we suffer our thoughts to rove in vague indefiniteness over the general objects of prayer, the emotions of our hearts will also be vague and comparatively lifeless; and if we utter our supplications in general expressions, we shall repeat them with very little fixedness of thought or warmth of feeling. It is only when the mind fastens upon the great object of prayer in its several parts, and contemplates distinctly the particulars of its wants, that the heart is awakened to the full impression of their importance. If, then, we would have our attention fixed and our hearts warmed into earnestness, in view of the proper objects of supplication, we should acquaint ourselves with particulars, and dwell upon them in our prayers; and our sincerity, as well as earnestness, will be in proportion to the clearness of our conception of each particular object of desire. Apply these suggestions to each department of prayer, and their importance is illustrated. Let the Christian turn his thoughts inward upon himself, and how diversified is his experience! At one time he enjoys the light of the divine countenance; at another his heavenly Father's face is hid. At one period he grows in grace and makes visible progress in holiness; then he loses his first love; and again he repents and does his first works. To-day he rejoices in hope; to-morrow, it may be, he loses his comfortable assurance. He is visited with mercies and with judgments; and tried with prosperity, and tried with adversity; and at different periods the exercise of different graces is more especially called for. Has he sinned? He should repent. Is he suffering the chastisements of the Lord? He should be humble. Is he tempted? He needs strength. Has he experienced some direct manifestation of the divine goodness? His soul should be filled with gratitude. Is he called to suffer? He needs fortitude and submission. Are sacrifices demanded? He needs self-denial. Is he called to undertake great, and difficult, and dangerous enterprises? He needs faith and VOL. VI. 10 moral courage. And in every variety of condition, as his wants are, in some respects, peculiar, so his prayers should possess a corresponding peculiarity. Without this, though he may continue in prayer, he will fail to spread his real wants before the throne of grace; and what he loses in appropriateness be will lose also in sincerity. The same principles are applicable to intercessory prayer. If we take a lively interest in the welfare of our friends, we shall not always be satisfied with asking God, in some general expressions, to bless them; but we shall discriminate among them, and pray for them according to their different conditions and wants. So the Christian parent observes the different characters, circumstances, propensities, trials, and temptations of his children; and the knowledge which he thus acquires gives shape and complexion to his prayers. The depth of his sincerity may usually be measured by the distinctness and discrimination with which he urges the peculiar wants of each before the mercy seat. Again, the consistent Christian is necessarily a patriot, and one of the ways in which he faithfully serves his country is by his prayers for her prosperity. This is made his duty, by express injunction. "I exhort therefore," says an Apostle, "that first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men,-for kings, for all that are in authority; that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty." With this exhortation the Christian complies, but with sincerity just in proportion to his acquaintance with the existing state and true interests of the community or the nation to which he belongs. If he take pains to inform himself of passing events, of important objects attempted, and of vices and errors which prevail, there will be variety and distinctness in his perceptions of the necessities of the public, and a corresponding variety in his prayers will awaken his deepest feelings, and call forth his most ardent desires. The same variety and distinctness of perception is essential to sincerity in prayer, when the Christian turns his thoughts to the condition of the church' ever dear to his heart, but dearer in exact proportion to the clearness with which her image is presented to his mind. Let him be familiarly acquainted with her condition, her dangers, her true interests, and her glorious prospects, in all their variety, and if he is ever fervent in prayer, it will be for Zion, thus presented and contemplated. His soul will throw its deepest sympathies into her condition, and he will wrestle with the Angel of the covenant, not as one who graspeth a shadow, or beateth the air, but as one who feels that his hand taketh hold of the end of his faith, the crown of eternal triumph to the church. The variety, also, which is given to prayer, by a contemplation of the signs of the times, contributes to the warmth of its sincerity. Go to the family altar of him who takes no religious newspaper, who seldom reads the missionary intelligence of the day, and is inattentive to passing events in God's providence; or listen to his prayer in the social meeting. He may have been religiously educated; he may have read the bible and embraced its general principles; his supplications may be orthodox in principle, but they are not appropriate. They have no more relation to the present condition of the church and of the world, |