phantoms. We can open the Bible and look at the promises; but he can open heaven and show each promise in its glorious fulfilment. We can lift our eyes towards the hills; but he can show us "Him who is invisible," and can enable our souls to rest on him with the sweetest security for the fulfilment of all that he has spoken. We can task ourselves to stated times of devotion and resolve that we shall spend a given space in prayer; but he can so enlarge the heart-he can make the spirit so strong in the Lord and in the power of his might-he can fill the mind with such longings after angelic purity-such delight in heavenly things-such vehement aspirations after God; he can intercede within us with those yearnings and groanings which cannot be uttered, so that hours and minutes shall not be counted, and the untiring soul continues "instant in prayer." LECTURE IV. THE PRIVILEGE OF PRAYER. "Rejoice evermore. Pray without ceasing." "THE Athenians spent their time in nothing else, but either to tell or to hear some new thing;" and whatever may have become of the Attic elegance and the Attic genius, modern society is not deficient in the Athenian curiosity. Nor do we blame it. The desire of novelty is not in itself blameworthy; but there is one form of it which we would like to see more frequent. To freshen old truths is nearly as important as to discover new ones; and instead of telling or hearing some new thing, our time would often be as advanatgeously occupied in thinking over, and brightening up the meaning of some old thing. Few expressions in theology are older than that which speaks of the "privilege of prayer;" but nothing could be a greater novelty in the history of some who now hear me, than to find prayer an actual privilege. Am I wrong? "The privilege of prayer!" Do not some feel that the burden of prayer,-the obligation, the duty, would be a truer name for it? Do not some of you feel, that to call it a privilege is just to give a pleasant name to an irksome thing? If so, instead of initiating you in a new science, that individual would do you a better service who should give you fresh light on this old truth, and make you feel, that not only has prayer power with God, but it is very nearly the highest privilege of man. Let us make a supposition.* Suppose that the individual in this kingdom, who combines in himself the greatest wisdom and goodness, were accessible to you. Suppose that when anything pressed upon you, a difficulty from which your own sagacity could not extricate you, or an undertaking which your own resources could not compass,--you had only to send him a statement of the case, and were sure, in good time, to get his best and kindest counsel,-would not you deem this a great privilege? Would not something of this sort just meet the case of many here? One is entering on a new course of occupation, and in its very outset meets with problems that fairly baffle him, but which a friend of a little more experience or perspicacity could instantly solve. Another is overtaken by a sea of troubles,--a concourse of trials which quite overwhelm him, but through which he perfectly believes that a stronger arm or a more buoyant spirit could carry him. But where shall he look for that wiser friend,-that stronger arm? Suppose, again, that when in sudden danger or in deep distress, there were some way by which This was suggested by a similar idea in a Lecture of John Foster, as preserved in the MS. notes of an intelligent hearer. you could make known your situation, to a spirit departed. That spirit is now far wiser than he was when on earth. He has sources of knowledge that are not open to you, and he has powers not yet possessed by you. Suppose that in grief or in difficulty you could invoke him. Suppose that there were some process by which you could arrest his ear among the glorified, and in the lapse of a brief moment bring him though unseen to your side; and suppose that, to this spirit made perfect, the spirit of your departed parent, or of some one remarkable for his wisdom and sanctity, you could detail the whole matter that grieves and perplexes you, and though there should be no response from the viewless shade, you knew that he had heard you, and was away to interpose effectively on your behalf,-would you not feel much comforted and lightened? Would you not resume your own active exertions with far greater hopefulness,-assured that there would now attend them a power beyond what was proper to them, or inherent in yourself? But farther, suppose that instead of any wise or influential personage on earth, or any glorified spirit in paradise, it was possible for you to secure the ear and engage the help of one of the principalities or powers in the heavenly places; some being of such bright intelligence, that he can smile at all our wisdom, and such commanding might, that he can do in a moment what would occupy our race for a millennium; could you for an instant bespeak his attention, and gain assurance of his willingness to help; would you not feel that your object was unspeakably promoted, or your burden amazingly lightened? To have enlisted such ability and skill upon your side,the few minutes spent in securing such superhuman help,--would you not feel that they were a larger contribution towards eventual success than a life-time of your personal efforts? But rise a step higher-an infinite step!-and suppose that it were possible to arrest the ear and secure the help of God himself; suppose that you could, by any possibility, gain the attention of the living God,--that you could secure not the cold and distant on-looking, but the interested regard and the omnipotent interposition of Jehovah himself, -would not this be a privilege? But this is precisely what prayer is. Some have no friend of extraordinary sagacity or power to go to. The spirits of the departed cannot come to us; and neither to them nor to angels are we warranted to pray. And even though we could evoke a Samuel from the sepulchre, or bring down Gabriel from above the sky,-the blessings which are most needful for us are such as neither Samuel nor Gabriel can give,-blessings of which the treasure lies within the light inaccessible, and of which Omnipotence alone preserves the key. That Almighty hand prayer moves. communicable key prayer turns. proachable treasury prayer opens. The blessings which Solomon in all his glory, and Abraham in the bosom of his God, and the seraphs who overshadow the throne,--the blessings which these have not to give, it is the privilege of prayer to procure. That in That unap But set it in another light. Imagine that there 7 |