critic, especially on so holy an exercise | trition, and a genuine feeling of selfabasement. Last of all, ought prayer to be made a medium for the exhibition of talent. When we come into the presence-chamber of the all-seeing Jehovah, when we stand enclosed in the very environment of his mysterious existence, can the idea of human learning or wisdom exist in Our minds? In the analysis of Dr. Payson's ministerial character, the biographer ascribes to him the quality of preaching in his prayer. Notwithstanding it is a plausible idea, usually well received and associated with the memory of the pious dead, we demur. Prayer is a season of devotion, not of instruction, primarily-a time of communion with God, not of imparting knowledge to others. Perhaps this very religious sanction has exerted a mighty influence in perpetuating the fault. A celebrated divine offers a long and highly elaborated prayer; the effect is a tedium: a good minister offers a fervent, simple, childlike prayer, full of tenderness and pathos, its effect is electrifying. It is the language of entreaty, of earnest expostulation, and deep self-abasement. The sentences are short, pointed, pathetic, trusting. Many public prayers are greatly marred by their unwarrantable pro"Lord, teach us how to pray !" as prayer, we throw out our hint in an interrogative, rather than a didactive, dress, and ask the question, Are the public prayers of ministers characterized by that plainness and simplicity which the nature of prayer and the wants of our people require? We bring no "railing accusation," but we confess a strong conviction that many prayers in the sanctuary are too elevated in language, too ornate in style, too elaborate in construction, and too courtly or pompous in address. We do not design our remarks to sanction the least irreverence or vulgarism; on the other hand, they ought to be profoundly solemn, elevated in thought, and include a wide range of topics. One designed effect of prayer is to inspire devotion, to kindle the dull and languid affections to a flame. Now, if prayer be too laboured in its execution, the mental task of the offerer in producing it, and of the hearer in comprehending it, diverts the mind, and obstructs this design. The heart will not be warmed by the exercise, if the mind be pre-occupied by too great an abundance of logical reasoning and too great a profusion of intellectual beauty. It is as easy to pray above the comprehension of our hearers as it is to "preach over their heads," to use a familiar expression. Public prayer, then, ought not to be full of argumentative connectives, or ornamental expletives. When this is its character, it becomes a literary entertainment, rather than a religious humiliation. It is our duty to plead, as a child with a parent, a beggar with a friend, or a culprit at the bar. What are the wants of a congregation of human beings, but the aggregation of the wants of the individuals composing it? If so, whence the reason of a manner of prayer so diverse from what an unsophisticated taste and piety love? Our greatest men not unfrequently have the most natural ease and unaffected simplicity in prayer. This is "praying with the spirit, and with the understanding also." It is not the province of prayer to inform God, but to confess sin, to acknowledge mercies and implore grace. This is best done by plainness, pathos, con lixity. SOMEBODY HAS BEEN SEVERAL years since, in a town in did they wrestle at the throne of grace on his behalf, and eagerly did they look for the answer. We knew nothing of their solicitude. None but themselves and God were aware of their meeting for such a purpose. After a few weeks, one of the four was invited by this very young friend to take a walk, and during that excursion, the disclosure was made that prayer had not been unavailing. The Spirit of God had convinced the sceptic of his errors, and awakened a desire to know and practise the truth. He soon became truly broken in heart, and found healing in the blood of Christ. A revival ensued, in which the churches were quickened, and many sinners converted. The information that this young student, apparently the most hopeless case, had become a convert to Christ, fell upon the ears of the people with startling effect. Like thunder in a clear sky, it was an anomaly, and took | even Christians by surprise. How could it be explained that a revival had commenced, when there had been, apparently, none of the usual antecedents of such an event? An aged Christian, who witnessed many seasons of gracious refreshing, spoke upon the subject in a prayermeeting, and said, "I have lived long, and seen many revivals, and never knew such a blessing to come but in answer to prayer. Brethren, I am very certain that somebody has been praying. I confess that I have been very delinquent, and probably many of you can make the same confession. But, when the books shall be opened, you will find that what we now see was in answer to somebody's prayers." It was never known in that place who had offered these successful prayers. Three of the little group are now in heaven. The survivor is the pastor of a New England church. Lessons for Youth. A WORD TO ALL YOUNG MEN. BE not satisfied with a mere Christian profession. Be not satisfied with that ineasure of religious character that shall save you from the discipline of the Church, or even secure your salvation so as by fire. Rise up to a vigorous and lofty tone of Christian feeling and action. Let no one mark your daily conduct without perceiving that it is an ever brightening light. And here, after all, is the hope of the country-the hope of the age. If I could but see the young men of this generation, as a body, baptized with the spirit of true Christianity, and acting habitually under a high sense of obligation, I should confidently expect to see the clouds that darken eur horizon soon pass away. And I should then give myself no concern about the prevalence of one political party or another; for if I could be sure that the mass were acting under the influence of Christian feeling, and that an enlightened and active con science was in the politics of the nation, I should have no fear that the mistakes incident to human weakness, would ever greatly mar our public prosperity. Oh if I could feel sure that the young men before me,-the young men of the nation at large,— would be valiant for the truth and the right,-I would defy all the miserable plotting demagogues of the land to ruin my country. I would say to all evil men, whether in high or low places -whether they make part of the constituted authorities of the nation, or of the very refuse and dregs of the mob-I would say to them-if it must be so, do your best to ruin us, and the nation will live in spite of you. Your mission of evil will not last always. You cannot always utter bitter words, or perform desperate acts; for ere long your voice will be hushed, and your arms folded in death. I pity you, but I fear you not-for these young men full of faith in God, and of zeal in lis service. SERIOUS QUESTIONS TO THE UNCONVERTED. are preparing to undo the wretched | fires of Hell, which await every soul of labours of your life. Could I but feel man that doeth evil. We must, therean assurance that this would be so, fore, with all affection, now put a few I would go abroad and proclaim it every where; I would entreat every man who loves his country or his race, to fall upon his knees, and offer up thanksgivings for such a gracious interposition. Oh, it is a glorious vision to dwell upon-young men of this nation, it is for you to decide whether the vision shall go out in darkness, or brighten into a glorious accomplishment. DEVOURING FIRE. UNGODLY Souls carry the principle of death within themselves, and nothing but development is wanted to begin the second death-a death that will never end. There are many wellattested cases in medical literature, of the spontaneous combustion of the bodies of drunkards, who carry about with them the elements of self-destruction, as is exemplified by a circumstance recently before the public, which is as follows:-"A few days ago, in a tavern near the Barrière de l'Etoile, a journeyman painter, named Xavier C, well known for his intemperate habits, while drinking with some comrades, laid a wager that he would eat a lighted candle. His bet was taken, and scarcely had he introduced the flaming candle into his mouth, when he uttered a slight cry, and fell powerless to the ground. A bluish flame was seen to flicker about his lips, and, on an attempt being made to offer him assistance, the bystanders were horrorstruck to find that he was burning internally. At the end of half an hour, his head and the upper part of his chest were reduced to charcoal. Two medical men were called in, and recognized that Xavier had fallen a victim to spontaneous combustion. The conflagration of the human frame is frightfully rapid in its progress bones, skin, and muscle, all are devoured, consumed, and reduced to ashes. A handful of dust on the spot where the victim fell is all that remains." This is dreadful; but there is something far worse than this-the penal 1. Is the responsibility of a man of his own making or of God's? Does your responsibility depend upon your being or not being a professor of religion? 2. Did you ever seriously reflect on the fact that God offers salvation in its fulness to you as a sinner repenting? 3. Are you ignorant of the goodness of God? that he is kind to you? and that it will not be his fault if you are finally lost? 4 Do you not know that you must accept the offered salvation-you must do it, and that cordially and gratefully by faith in the gospel; or necessarily, in the very nature of things, perish, as a rejector of Christ, the only Saviour? and that there is no decree of God in the universe contrary to this? 5. Are you sure that there is any happiness, any safety, any goodness, worthy of the name, apart from the favour of God in Christ Jesus, and the pardon of sin through His blood? 6. For what are you waiting? a miracle? it is not promised-it will never be wrought; and what command of God do you obey by it? what authority have you for postponement? If you cannot now turn to God, when can you? 7. If you did not love sin, and mean to continue in it, and this most offensively before God, what could hinder your obedience to the Lamb? 8. Are you not in danger of purchasing this world-a little of it-for one moment-that uncertain-at too dear a rate? How much ought your fraction of it to be worth, to warrant the price you are in peril of paying for it? Its pleasures, its fame, its wealthwhich do you prefer, to the salvation of your soul in Jesus Christ? 9. Do you not choose to think of death, futurity, or your account at the judgment-seat of Christ? Why? are you not sane? or will you absent yourself from that tribunal? or dispute its jurisdiction? Madness! how can you live at this rate, and call yourself no moral lunatic, or endure your own recklessness, refusing to prepare for eternity--when you know it is coming so fast-will soon be here-may arrive any moment? If there is any truth in religion, is it not a desperate game that you are proudly playing? 10. Are you afraid of others, of what they will say, if you become a Christian? If so, do you know any slave of terror equal to yourself? a bondage execrable and ruinous! your taskmasters the most wanton and wilful tyrants in the world! Is it you that call it bondage to be the servant of Christ? Where then shall we go for freedom? Why do you not believe that heaven is a place of misery? 11. Is there any comfort for you, continuing as you are, for which you are not surprisingly indebted to ignorance, stupidity, error, presumption, or forgetfulness? Is there any better solu tion of the wonder that a man has comfort who is "condemned already," and upon whom "the wrath of God abideth?" and is this the comfort you prefer to that of a Christian? to that which cherished Paul in duty, and Jerome at the stake? 12. Are you sure that a life of piety is not the best every way? temporally, as well as eternally? if not, is a life and death of impiety the best ? 13. If you were truly converted, would it not be a great thing, especially in its relations? If your conversion is infinitely desirable, is not that also of every other sinner? and hence exertions to save souls are infinitely desirable. Will you then oppose them any more? Devils will do enough of this. Why will you not then repent and believe the gospel, and “save yourself from this untoward generation?" Decide now for eternity! Poetry. THE OLD MAN AMONG THE GRAVES. "The graves are ready for me."-Joв. ALONG the pathway by the rill, For many a year, 'mid foreign flowers, The stranger's glowing fire was made; And where his brothers roam'd in mirth, A stranger's laughing children played. And all day long he sought in vain The faces that he yearn'd to see; And leant in sadness on his cane, And wonder'd where they all could be. He knew that time had dimm'd his brow, And silver'd o'er his own dark hair; Yet still he had not deem'd till now That time had left such footprints there. Offriends, who made life's morning bright, He asked; but there were none to tell: The grave had veil'd them from his sight, And death had hush'd their voices well. I mark'd his slow and faltering tread, And saw him bend o'er many a stone; And well I knew that with his dead Is strewn with many a fading flower; And hidden springs of grief arise, And fall in many a fountain shower. Pilgrim, there's many a stricken heart That claimeth kindred with thine own! And some who play a smiling part Are weeping 'mid their graves alone. Yet far beyond the night of woe The glorious morning dawneth fair; And if thy tears in meekness flow, A Father's hand shall wipe them there. NAME NOT THE DEAD. "Do not name the dead so frequently." Oh, never say, Oh, never say, "Name not the Dead!" Oh, never say, "Name not the Dead!" "Thou shalt not be forgot." Of one who, like a dream of bliss, Oh, never say, "Name not the Dead! From lips long since in silence seal'd, The silence of the tomb. Then never say, "Name not the Dead!" "Name not the Dead! Oh, speak not so," To link the chain good spirits weave The low voice seems to say Between our souls and heaven! The Children's Gallery. A LITTLE HISTORY. LITTLE FOLKS,-When B. was a boy, he was very well off. His parents lived in a fine large house, and had a great deal of money. But money, you know, will not do instead of everything. It will not do instead of religion, nor honesty, nor industry. This little boy was a lazy sluggard; he was a great trouble to his parents by his laziness. He did not like to get out of bed in the morning, nor to go to bed at night; dressing and undressing were quite too much trouble for him. He had a little garden given to him to cultivate, but it was too much trouble to him to pull up the weeds, to dig the ground, to sow it, and rake it, and water it; so he never had any good crops in his garden, you may be sure. His parents wished him to learn to read; but learning to read was very troublesome; so it was a long time before he knew even his letters, and many tears it cost him to obtain even this knowledge. He liked play, when he could play in his own way; but he did not like the trouble of playing heartily, like other boys; he was lazy even in his play. When he went to school it was just He was always in disgrace with the master for not learning his the same. lesson, and always shunned by the boys, because he could not bear the trouble of doing anything to oblige them. When he grew up to be a young man, he was sent away from home, to be brought up to a business; but he did not remain long with his employer. He did not at all like the trouble of learning the way to get an honourable living, so he came home to spend his time in idleness at his father's house. But all this time, though he was so very lazy, he liked well enough to indulge himself, and to spend money in extravagance. He knew all the pastrycooks' shops for miles round his father's house; and all the money he could get he spent upon tarts and sweetmeats; and when he had no money, he got in debt for these things. He liked fine clothes too; and cost his friends more for them than two good, industrious boys would have done; for it was too troublesome to him to keep his clothes neat and tidy, so they soon became shabby and worn out. After awhile this lazy youth grew up to be a man, and married a wife; and then he was told by his father, that he must do something for a living; |