soul, suggestions, of which he could not indeed determine the author, but which bade him, and that too with an energy which it was scarcely possible to withstand, throw off the accursed slavery of lust, or covetousness, or pride, and seek instantly, lest the pulse should stop beating whilst he paused and debated, forgiveness from the God whom his thousand sins had offended? Is it on the mountain or in the city, in the valley or on the ocean, that we must seek the man who has never resisted an admonition, never stifled a conviction, never felt the workings of an influence which strove to arrest him in his impieties, and to turn him to better doings and better hopes? If you find the man, then you find one who has never been visited by God's Spirit as a striving agent, and we may admit that the case may exist in which it is useless to enjoin prayer for the Spirit as a renewing agent. But we know that the challenge cannot be answered. We know that, if we could now press home on each individual amongst you the question, hast thou been un

molested in thy sinfulness, and gain an honest and unequivocal answer, there would be wrung from every one of you a confession, that the life of unrighteousness has been, yea, and is, a doing battle with the sense of dishonour and danger; and that it is in despite of reiterated warnings, warnings which seem to call forth the echoes of the soul, and make it resound with its own funeral knell, that there is still a holding on in the broad path of worldly-mindedness. And whilst we have this persuasion, we can look upon you all as beings not destitute of the Spirit of God. We can feel certain, even of those amongst you who have never been brought to vow loyalty to the Almighty, that they are so acted upon by this heavenly agent, that, in enjoining prayer, we enjoin nothing but obedience to his secret suggestions; and that, consequently, it is in perfect consistency with all those doctrines of Scripture which represent man in himself as incapable of supplication, that we press on the unconverted the duty of praying for conversion, and encourage them to the

duty by the gracious declaration, "Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you."

But we proceed to the second inquiry suggested by our text. We have taken the particular case of prayer for God's Spirit, and have endeavoured to shew you the possibility of our asking, even though, all the while, we cannot ask without the Spirit's assistance. We are now to inquire into the prevalence of our asking, though God knows beforehand all that we need.

There is much that is extraordinary in the action of prayer, and we must give it our strict attention if we would comprehend its bearings. When we kneel down, whether publicly in the assembly, or privately in the closet, it is not that we have wants to make known, as though the high and everlasting God were unacquainted with our necessities, and required to be informed. Knowing, far better than ourselves can know, what we really need, and what would be for our good, prayer must be useless, yea, little more than

mockery, if its presumed design be to convey to him our wishes and wants. We do not, then, pray in order to tell God any thing of which he would otherwise be ignorant; we pray only, because the prescribed condition to our receiving is our asking; and because we know of no mode in which we can so much shew our reverence of the Creator, and yield him so much honour. It is an act of great obedience; yea, of an obedience which is more marked, in proportion as we are more impressed with the omniscience of God. This characteristic of the divine nature appears opposed to prayer, for it seems to prove it unnecessary. I think upon God, and the mind is quickly lost in the contemplation of a Being, within the compass of whose intelligence is gathered whatever has been, whatever is, and whatever is to come. I am certain in regard of a Being, whose observation nothing can escape, that he knows, with the most thorough familiarity, the minutest circumstances in which I can have interest, every motion of my spirit, every desire of my heart, every necessity of my life.

Then, why pray to him? Why carry to him the tale of my requirements, as though he were of like feebleness with myself, and stood in need of being told, in order to acquaintance with my wants? Thus, to all appearance, the omniscience of Deity furnishes an argument against prayer; and in confessing that nothing can be hidden from the Lord, I seem to pronounce it useless to address him with petitions. And, therefore, is there a great submissiveness in the act of prayer, so that this act is an act of obedience, and, as such, must be one which gains approval with God. To this we must add, that the Divine immutability, as well as omniscience, seems opposed to the usefulness of prayer. It may readily seem to me, when I kneel down to offer supplications, that God's purposes are of that fixed and determined character which forbids their being swayed by the importunity of my requests. There is a confessed difficulty in understanding how the dealings of a Being, who by his very nature is unchangeable, can be at all contingent on the prayers of his crea

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