LET not merely the dignity and blessedness of prayer invite us, but let us remember also its absolute necessity, if we would live at all. For what is a Christian man without it? A warrior without his arms in the thick and throng of the battle, that has gone naked into the strife; and if he escape once or twice with no mortal wound, yet is sure sooner or later to fall by the hand of the enemy. How many there may be among us at this time, my brethren, that are neglecting to put on this armour of God, or are wearing it only too seldom and too carelessly. The days are evil, the times perilous (for all times are such), the flesh is weak, and the way narrow, and the adversaries many, and yet many of us are walking carelessly and at random, as though we were not in an enemy's country, as though there were no secret ambush, no open violence, to fear. Oh, my brethren, how many saddened hearts there have been, it may be there now are, among the homes of England, saddened on account of beloved ones that in this place* have broken their early vows,

Delivered at Cambridge.

made shipwreck of the fair promises of a youthful piety; under the stress of new temptations, have forgotten the sanctities of those homes, rendered themselves unworthy of that holy love which once awaited, and (though now a sorrowing love) which still awaits them there! And this, how came it to pass-how came it that they forgat that voice in which a heavenly and an earthly love seemed alike to speak unto them, and to say, "My son, if thine heart be wise, my heart shall rejoice, even mine?" If we might read the inner history of those fallen souls, of how many we should find the beginnings of their falling away to have been in this, that they left unfrequented the way that leadeth up to the throne of grace, that by little and little the secret offices of devotion were neglected by them, first carelessly performed, then entirely omitted; and thus they lay bare and open to the assaults of the adversary: temptation was strong, and they were weak; the enemy watchful, and they sleeping. What other issue could have been than that which has been? What wonder that they who were so joyful go now sad, and drooping, and sorrowful, with their brows no longer crowned with the fresh garlands of a springing hope, but too surely showing how another has taken their crown?

While, then, prayer has this dignity, and this blessedness, and is this necessary condition of our stability, let us carry away with us, my brethren, a few never superfluous words concerning the things which are to be feared, either as hindering us in it, or turning us away from it altogether. And first, in the earnestness of an onward purpose, let us refuse to listen to the pretended difficulty of a shallow philosophy, which yet will sometimes find an echo in the hollow places of our own hearts-I mean this, What can prayer do to change the purposes of God? Must it not be idle words, breath spentin vain ? for is not he immutable? is not unchangeableness among the very perfections of his being? Even so-but it is unchange

ableness of character: it is his love, his holiness, his goodness, his power, these that are immutable, that know neither variableness nor shadow of turning, these in which he is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. And therefore, because these are unchangeable, the outcomings and manifestations of them are ever changing, ever varying according to the needs and moral conditions of men. He is no fixed fate, but a living God. That which he could not give, and would not, to the proud rebel, he can and will give to the contrite suppliant. Ananias whom he could not send to Saul breathing out slaughter, he can charge with a message of grace to Paul, "for behold he prayeth." The gift which he could not give to the heart shut up in its self-sufficiency and pride-for there was no place to put it in-he can give to the same heart, when it has learned to long for, when it has been dilated to receive, the heavenly boon. He is always ready to give, but we are not always ready to receive: now in prayer is the preparation and enlarging of the heart for receiving. God is light, and the author of light, but our spiritual eye has often become troubled, often diseased, and so inapt to drink in that light, which should enter in and leave no dark place in our whole body. But in prayer there is a turning again of this diseased spiritual eye unto him, and through this turning a making of it single again, a restoring its powers of receiving and rejoicing in that pure light of truth, which, while that cye too intently gazed upon meaner things, it had in part forfeited and lost.

Once more, brethren, let us beware, in our daily walk, of everything that will indispose and unfit us for communion with God-the companions, for instance, from whose presence we shall feel it a kind of contradiction to pass into the presence of God-the worldly thoughts of ambition, of covetousness, of pride, which, if indulged in freely and without restraint at other times, will not, even though we bid them, give place at

these times; which, if we allow to make commonly a beaten highway of our heart, will not leave that heart at a moment's warning a sanctuary and a temple; but will still keep thronging in, will light like unclean birds, spoiling our sacrifice, and we shall not be able, like Abraham, to fray them away, but shall discover now, that it is a small gain to shut the door of our chambers, when we cannot shut the door of our hearts; and shall reap in the inability to do so the sad fruits of our own lack of watchfulness in times past, of our unchecked indulgence in such thoughts as should have been restrained and rebuked from the outset.

Oh, brethren, believe that we cannot let the winds blow from the four corners of the world, stirring our hearts into restless agitations, and then at the moment when we will command a calm. None but the Prince of Peace could do this, even in the world of outward nature, much less in the troubled sphere of the human heart. Let us evermore ask of him that he would keep our spirits from these turbulent disquietudes, or, if we are visited with such, that he would command them to begone, that he would, as he only can, bid these winds and these waters of our troubled hearts to be still. Let us ask this, for it is only the calm waters that reflect and image in their bosom the calm heavens that are above; others give back no reflection, or a troubled and distorted one at the best.

I will mention yet another hindrance unto prayer. We may be tempted, probably we all have been at times, to grudge the necessary time. It has seemed to us too much to give; and this especially under the stress of some urgent business, or in seasons when we are devoted, and rightly so, to some engrossing studies. And yet, if we would realise this, that God is the true fountain of all wisdom and of all knowledge -the author of all order in our thoughts, of all discipline in our affections—if only we would keep in mind how there is

nothing that breaks down the powers even of the intellect so surely as sensual sin, nothing which narrows its capacities so effectually as a permitted worldliness, we should count that time well bestowed which consecrates all our other times, which is spent in seeking that grace which is to keep us pure in our affections, and to keep us free in our minds. We should not then be tempted to diminish these the first-fruits of our time, or to look at them with a grudging eye, but rather to offer them unto God with a larger dedication. For as no man ever was made poorer by giving freely unto God of his worldly substance, but in a thousand ways it has come back to him, while he that stints and withholds is almost sure to be punished even in that very mammon which he is showing to be dearer to him than all the promises of God-and a breaking bank or a faithless friend, a civil tumult or a midnight conflagration, will snatch from the niggard in a moment a hundred times as much as he has unduly withholden, and leave, too, no blessing behind-so to give to God of his time never left any with a scantier time for his appointed tasks, with less readiness or with fewer opportunities for patient study, for enduring labour, for earnest thought; but has rather fitted and disciplined him for these, and insured to him far larger and far richer results, than he would otherwise have reaped, had he continued in the barrenness of his selfish and separate nature.

Let us meet, then, and put by these temptations and these hindrances, these and others which no doubt we shall abundantly find. Let us watch against everything that would tempt us to slur over our acts of worship-to thrust them into obscure corners of our day, or to thrust them out of it altogether. Let us beware of suffering them to give way unto other things, instead of making other things give way unto them-of omitting or cutting them short upon trivial and light excuses. No doubt in all this we shall have need