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A Call To Prayer

by "Carl" <saints@[EMAIL PROTECTED] > May 12, 2008 at 01:20 PM

The following sermon by J.C. Ryle is an exhortation to Christians to pray 
more often and more ernestly as God's Word instructs. It is an edifying
and 
encouraging lesson.

May God bless,
Carl
my website -- http://www.nettally.com/saints/
my blog -- http://www.anniemayhem.com/cgi-bin/wordpress/

---

A Call To Prayer
by J.C. Ryle

I have a question to offer you. It is contained in three words, Do you
pray?

The question is one that none but you can answer. Whether you attend
public 
wor****p or not, your minister knows. Whether you have family prayers in
your 
house or not, your relations know. But whether you pray in private or not,

is a matter between yourself and God.

I beseech you in all affection to attend to the subject I bring before
you. 
Do not say that my question is too close. If your heart is right in the 
sight of God, there is nothing in it to make you afraid. Do not turn off
my 
question by replying that you say your prayers. It is one thing to say
your 
prayers and another to pray. Do not tell me that my question is
unnecessary. 
Listen to me for a few minutes, and I will show you good reasons for
asking 
it.

I ask whether you pray, because prayer is absolutely needful to a man's 
salvation.

I say, absolutely needful, and I say so advisedly. I am not speaking now
of 
infants or idiots. I am not settling the state of the heathen. I know that

where little is given, there little will be required. I speak especially
of 
those who call themselves Christians, in a land like our own. And of such
I 
say, no man or woman can expect to be saved who does not pray.

I hold salvation by grace as strongly as any one. I would gladly offer a 
free and full pardon to the greatest sinner that ever lived. I would not 
hesitate to stand by his dying bed, and say, "Believe on the Lord Jesus 
Christ even now, and you shall be saved." But that a man can have
salvation 
without asking for it, I cannot see in the Bible. That a man will receive 
pardon of his sins, who will not so much as lift up his heart inwardly,
and 
say, "Lord Jesus, give it to me," this I cannot find. I can find that
nobody 
will be saved by his prayers, but I cannot find that without prayer
anybody 
will be saved.

It is not absolutely needful to salvation that a man should read the
Bible. 
A man may have no learning, or be blind, and yet have Christ in his heart.

It is not absolutely needful that a man should hear public preaching of
the 
gospel. He may live where the gospel is not preached, or he may be 
bedridden, or deaf. But the same thing cannot be said about prayer. It is 
absolutely needful to salvation that a man should pray.

There is no royal road either to health or learning. Princes and kings,
poor 
men and peasants, all alike must attend to the wants of their own bodies
and 
their own minds. No man can eat, drink, or sleep by proxy. No man can get 
the alphabet learned for him by another. All these are things which 
everybody must do for himself, or they will not be done at all.

Just as it is with the mind and body, so it is with the soul. There are 
certain things absolutely needful to the soul's health and well-being.
Each 
must attend to these things for himself. Each must repent for himself.
Each 
must apply to Christ for himself. And for himself each must speak to God
and 
pray. You must do it for yourself, for by nobody else can it be done.

To be prayerless is to be without God, without Christ, without grace, 
without hope, and without heaven. It is to be on the road to hell. Now can

you wonder that I ask the question, Do you pray?

I ask again whether you pray, because a habit of prayer is one of the
surest 
marks of a true Christian.

All the children of God on earth are alike in this respect. From the
moment 
there is any life and reality about their religion, they pray. Just as the

first sign of life in an infant when born into the world is the act of 
breathing, so the first act of men and women when they are born again is 
praying.

This is one of the common marks of all the elect of God, "They cry unto
him 
day and night" (Luke 18:1). The Holy Spirit, who makes them new creatures,

works in them the feeling of adoption, and makes them cry, "Abba, Father" 
(Rom. 8:15). The Lord Jesus, when he quickens them, gives them a voice and
a 
tongue, and says to them, "Be dumb no more." God has no dumb children. It
is 
as much a part of their new nature to pray, as it is of a child to cry.
They 
see their need of mercy and grace. They feel their emptiness and weakness.

They can not do otherwise than they do. They must pray.

I have looked carefully over the lives of God's saints in the Bible. I 
cannot find one of whose history much is told us, from Genesis to 
Revelation, who was not a man of prayer. I find it mentioned as a 
characteristic of the godly, that "they call on the Father" (I Peter
1:17), 
or "the name of the Lord Jesus Christ" (I Cor. 1:2). Recorded as a 
characteristic of the wicked is the fact that "they call not upon the
Lord" 
(Ps. 14:4).

I have read the lives of many eminent Christians who have been on earth 
since the Bible days. Some of them, I see, were rich, and some poor. Some 
were learned, and some unlearned. Some of them were Episcopalians, and
some 
Christians of other names. Some were Calvinists, and some were Arminians. 
Some have loved to use a liturgy, and some to use none. But one thing, I 
see, they all had in common. They have all been men of prayer.

I study the re****ts of missionary societies in our own times. I see with
joy 
that heathen men and women are receiving the gospel in various parts of
the 
globe. There are conversions in Africa, in New Zealand, in Hindustan, in 
China. The people converted are naturally unlike one another in every 
respect. But one striking thing I observe at all the missionary stations: 
the converted people always pray.

I do not deny that a man may pray without heart and without sincerity. I
do 
not for a moment pretend to say that the mere fact of a person's praying 
proves is everything about his soul. As in every other part of religion,
so 
also in this, there may be deception and hypocrisy.

But this I do say, that not praying is a clear proof that a man is not yet
a 
true Christian. He cannot really feel his sins. He cannot love God. He 
cannot feel himself a debtor to Christ. He cannot long after holiness. He 
cannot desire heaven. He has yet to be born again. He has yet to be made a

new creature. He may boast confidently of election, grace, faith, hope,
and 
knowledge, and deceive ignorant people. But you may rest assured it is all

vain talk if he does not pray.

And I say, furthermore, that of all the evidences of the real work of the 
Spirit, a habit of hearty private prayer is one of the most satisfactory 
that can be named. A man may preach from false motives. A man may write 
books and make fine speeches and seem diligent in good works, and yet be a

Judas Iscariot. But a man seldom goes into his closet, and pours out his 
soul before God in secret, unless he is in earnest. The Lord himself has
set 
his stamp on prayer as the best proof of a true conversion. When he sent 
Ananias to Saul in Damascus, he gave him no other evidence of his change
of 
heart than this, "Behold, he prayeth" (Acts 9: 11).

I know that much may go on in a man's mind before he is brought to pray.
He 
may have many convictions, desires, wishes, feelings, intentions, 
resolutions, hopes, and fears. But all these things are very uncertain 
evidences. They are to be found in ungodly people, and often come to 
nothing. In many a case they are not more lasting than the morning cloud, 
and the dew that passeth away. A real, hearty prayer, coming from a broken

and contrite spirit, is worth all these things put together.

I know that the Holy Spirit, who calls sinners from their evil ways, does
in 
many instances lead them by very slow degrees to acquaintance with Christ.

But the eye of man can only judge by what it sees. I cannot call any one 
justified until he believes. I dare not say that any one believes until he

prays. I cannot understand a dumb faith. The first act of faith will be to

speak to God. Faith is to the soul what life is to the body. Prayer is to 
faith what breath is to life. How a man can live and not breathe is past
my 
comprehension, and how a man can believe and not pray is past my 
comprehension too.

Never be surprised if you hear ministers of the gospel dwelling much on
the 
im****tance of prayer. This is the point we want to bring you to; we want
to 
know that you pray. Your views of doctrine may be correct. Your love of 
Protestantism may be warm and unmistakable. But still this may be nothing 
more than head knowledge and party spirit. We want to know whether you are

actually acquainted with the throne of grace, and whether you can speak to

God as well as speak about God.

Do you wish to find out whether you are a true Christian? Then rest
assured 
that my question is of the very first im****tance - Do you pray?

I ask whether you pray, because there is no duty in religion so neglected
as 
private prayer.

We live in days of abounding religious profession. There are more places
of 
public wor****p now than there ever were before. There are more persons 
attending them than there ever were before. And yet in spite of all this 
public religion, I believe there is a vast neglect of private prayer. It
is 
one of those private transactions between God and our souls which no eye 
sees, and therefore one which men are tempted to pass over and leave
undone. 
I believe that thousands never utter a word of prayer at all. They eat.
They 
drink. They sleep. They rise. They go forth to their labor. They return to

their homes. They breathe God's air. They see God's sun. They walk on
God's 
earth. They enjoy God's mercies. They have dying bodies. They have
judgment 
and eternity before them. But they never speak to God. They live like the 
beasts that perish. They behave like creatures without souls. They have
not 
one word to say to Him in whose hand are their life and breath, and all 
things, and from whose mouth they must one day receive their everlasting 
sentence. How dreadful this seems; but if the secrets of men were only 
known, how common.

I believe there are tens of thousands whose prayers are nothing but a mere

form, a set of words repeated by rote, without a thought about their 
meaning.

Some say over a few hasty sentences picked up in the nursery when they
were 
children. Some content themselves with repeating the Creed, forgetting
that 
there is not a request in it. Some add the Lord's Prayer, but without the 
slightest desire that its solemn petitions may be granted.

Many, even of those who use good forms, mutter their prayers after they
have 
gotten into bed, or while they wash or dress in the morning. Men may think

what they please, but they may depend upon it that in the sight of God
this 
is not praying. Words said without heart are as utterly useless to our
souls 
as the drum beating of the poor heathen before their idols. Where there is

no heart, there may be lip work and tongue work, but there is nothing that

God listens to; there is no prayer. Saul, I have no doubt, said many a
long 
prayer before the Lord met him on the way to Damascus. But it was not till

his heart was broken that the Lord said, "He prayeth."

Does this surprise you? Listen to me, and I will show you that I am not 
speaking as I do without reason. Do you think that my assertions are 
extravagant and unwarrantable? Give me your attention, and I will soon
show 
you that I am only telling you the truth.

Have you forgotten that it is not natural to any one to pray? "The carnal 
mind is enmity against God." The desire of man's heart is to get far away 
from God, and have nothing to do with him. His feeling towards him is not 
love, but fear. Why then should a man pray when he has no real sense of
sin, 
no real feeling of spiritual wants, no thorough belief in unseen things,
no 
desire after holiness and heaven? Of all these things the vast majority of

men know and feel nothing. The multitude walk in the broad way. I cannot 
forget this. Therefore I say boldly, I believe that few pray.

Have you forgotten that it is not fa****onable to pray? It is one of the 
things that many would be rather ashamed to own. There are hundreds who 
would sooner storm a breach, or lead a forlorn hope, than confess publicly

that they make a habit of prayer. There are thousands who, if obliged to 
sleep in the same room with a stranger, would lie down in bed without a 
prayer. To dress well, to go to theaters, to be thought clever and 
agreeable, all this is fa****onable, but not to pray. I cannot forget this.
I 
cannot think a habit is common which so many seem ashamed to own. I
believe 
that few pray.

Have you forgotten the lives that many live? Can we really believe that 
people are praying against sin night and day, when we see them plunging
into 
it? Can we suppose they pray against the world, when they are entirely 
absorbed and taken up with its pursuits? Can we think they really ask God 
for grace to serve him, when they do not show the slightest desire to
serve 
him at all? Oh, no, it is plain as daylight that the great majority of men

either ask nothing of God or do not mean what they say when they do ask, 
which is just the same thing. Praying and sinning will never live together

in the same heart. Prayer will consume sin, or sin will choke prayer. I 
cannot forget this. I look at men's lives. I believe that few pray.

Have you forgotten the deaths that many die? How many, when they draw near

death, seem entirely strangers to God. Not only are they sadly ignorant of

his gospel, but sadly wanting in the power of speaking to him. There is a 
terrible awkwardness and shyness in their endeavors to approach him. They 
seem to be taking up a fresh thing. They appear as if they wanted an 
introduction to God, and as if they had never talked with him before. I 
remember having heard of a lady who was anxious to have a minister to
visit 
her in her last illness. She desired that he would pray with her. He asked

her what he should pray for. She did not know, and could not tell. She was

utterly unable to name any one thing which she wished him to ask God for
her 
soul. All she seemed to want was the form of a minister's prayers. I can 
quite understand this. Death beds are great revealers of secrets. I cannot

forget what I have seen of sick and dying people. This also leads me to 
believe that few pray.

I cannot see your heart. I do not know your private history in spiritual 
things. But from what I see in the Bible and in the world I am certain I 
cannot ask you a more necessary question than that before you - Do you
pray?

I ask whether you pray, because prayer is an act in religion to which
there 
is great encouragement.

There is everything on God's part to make prayer easy, if men will only 
attempt it. All things are ready on his side. Every objection is 
anticipated. Every difficulty is provided for. The crooked places are made

straight and the rough places are made smooth. There is no excuse left for

the prayerless man.

There is a way by which any man, however sinful and unworthy, may draw
near 
to God the Father. Jesus Christ has opened that way by the sacrifice he
made 
for us upon the cross. The holiness and justice of God need not frighten 
sinners and keep them back. Only let them cry to God in the name of Jesus,

only let them plead the atoning blood of Jesus, and they shall find God
upon 
a throne of grace, willing and ready to hear. The name of Jesus is a 
never-failing pass****t for our prayers. In that name a man may draw near
to 
God with boldness, and ask with confidence. God has engaged to hear him. 
Think of this. Is not this encouragement?

There is an Advocate and Intercessor always waiting to present the prayers

of those who come to God through him. That advocate is Jesus Christ. He 
mingles our prayers with the incense of his own almighty intercession. So 
mingled, they go up as a sweet savor before the throne of God. Poor as
they 
are in themselves, they are mighty and powerful in the hand of our High 
Priest and Elder Brother. The bank note without a signature at the bottom
is 
nothing but a worthless piece of paper. The stroke of a pen confers on it 
all its value. The prayer of a poor child of Adam is a feeble thing in 
itself, but once endorsed by the hand of the Lord Jesus it availeth much. 
There was an officer in the city of Rome who was appointed to have his
doors 
always open, in order to receive any Roman citizen who applied to him for 
help. just so the ear of the Lord Jesus is ever open to the cry of all who

want mercy and grace. It is his office to help them. Their prayer is his 
delight. Think of this. Is not this encouragement?

There is the Holy Spirit ever ready to help our infirmities in prayer. It
is 
one part of his special office to assist us in our endeavors to speak with

God. We need not be cast down and distressed by the fear of not knowing
what 
to say. The Spirit will give us words if we seek his aid. The prayers of
the 
Lord's people are the inspiration of the Lord's Spirit, the work of the
Holy 
Ghost who dwells within them as the Spirit of grace and supplication.
Surely 
the Lord's people may well hope to be heard. It is not they merely that 
pray, but the Holy Ghost pleading in them. Reader, think of this. Is not 
this encouragement?

There are exceeding great and precious promises to those who pray. What
did 
the Lord Jesus mean when he spoke such words as these: "Ask, and it shall
be 
given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto
you: 
for every one that asketh, receiveth; and he that seeketh, findeth; and to

him that knocketh, it shall be opened" (Matt. 7:7, 8). "All things 
whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer believing, ye shall receive" (Matt. 
21:22). "Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will 1 do, that the
Father 
may be glorified in the Son. If ye shall ask anything in my name, I will
do 
it" (John 14:13, 14). What did the Lord mean when he spoke the parables of

the friend 'at midnight and the im****tunate widow (Luke 11:5; 18:1)? Think

over these passages. If this is not encouragement to pray, words have no 
meaning.

There are wonderful examples in Scripture of the power of prayer. Nothing 
seems to be too great, too hard, or too difficult for prayer to do. It has

obtained things that seemed impossible and out of reach. It has won 
victories over fire, air, earth, and water. Prayer opened the Red Sea. 
Prayer brought water from the rock and bread from heaven. Prayer made the 
sun stand still. Prayer brought fire from the sky on Elijah's sacrifice. 
Prayer turned the counsel of Ahithophel into foolishness. Prayer overthrew

the army of Sennacherib. Well might Mary Queen of Scots say, "I fear John 
Knox's prayers more than an army of ten thousand men." Prayer has healed
the 
sick. Prayer has raised the dead. Prayer has procured the conversion of 
souls. "The child of many prayers," said an old Christian to Augustine's 
mother, "shall never perish." Prayer, pains, and faith can do anything. 
Nothing seems impossible when a man has the spirit of adoption. "Let me 
alone," is the remarkable saying of God to Moses when Moses was about to 
intercede for the children of Israel - the Chaldee version has, "Leave off

praying" - (Exod. 32:10). So long as Abraham asked mercy for Sodom, the
Lord 
went on giving. He never ceased to give till Abraham ceased to pray. Think

of this. Is not this encouragement?

What more can a man want to lead him to take any step in religion, than
the 
things I have just told him about prayer? What more could be done to make 
the path to the mercy seat easy, and to remove all occasions of stumbling 
from the sinner's way? Surely if the devils in hell had such a door set
open 
before them, they would leap for gladness, and make the very pit ring with

joy.

But where will the man hide his head at last who neglects such glorious 
encouragements? What can possibly be said for the man who, after all, dies

without prayer? Surely I may feel anxious that you should not be that man.

Surely I may well ask - Do you pray?

I ask whether you pray, because diligence in prayer is the secret of
eminent 
holiness:

Without controversy there is a vast difference among true Christians.
There 
is an immense interval between the foremost and the hindermost in the army

of God.

They are all fighting the same good fight but how much more valiantly some

fight than others. They are all doing the Lord's work but how much more
some 
do than others. They are all light in the Lord; but how much more brightly

some ****ne than others. They are all running the same race; but how much 
faster some get on than others. They all love the same Lord and Saviour;
but 
how much more some love him than others. I ask any true Christian whether 
this is not the case. Are not these things so?

There are some of the Lord's people who seem never able to get on from the

time of their conversion. They are born again, but they remain babes all 
their lives. You hear from them the same old experience. You remark in
them 
the same want of spiritual appetite, the same want of interest in any
thing 
beyond their own little circle, which you remarked ten years ago. They are

pilgrims, indeed, but pilgrims like the Gibeonites of old; their bread is 
always dry and moldy, their shoes always old, and their garments always
rent 
and torn. I say this with sorrow and grief; but I ask any real Christian,
Is 
it not true?

There are others of the Lord's people who seem to be always advancing.
They 
grow like the grass after rain; they increase like Israel in Egypt; they 
press on like Gideon, though sometimes faint, yet always pursuing. They
are 
ever adding grace to grace, and faith to faith, and strength to strength. 
Every time you meet them their hearts seem larger, and their spiritual 
stature taller and stronger. Every year they appear to see more, and know 
more, and believe more, and feel more in their religion. They not only
have 
good works to prove the reality of their faith, but they are zealous of 
them. They not only do well, but they are unwearied in well-doing. They 
attempt great things, and they do great things. When they fail they try 
again, and when they f all they are soon up again. And all this time they 
think themselves poor, unprofitable servants, and fancy they do nothing at

all. These are those who make religion lovely and beautiful in the eyes of

all. They wrest praise even from the unconverted and win golden opinions 
even from the selfish men of the world. It does one good to see, to be
with, 
and to hear them. When you meet them, you could believe that like Moses, 
they had just come out from the presence of God. When you part with them
you 
feel warmed by their company, as if your soul had been near a fire. I know

such people are rare. I only ask, Are there not many such?

Now how can we account for the difference which I have just described?
What 
is the reason that some believers are so much brighter and holier than 
others? I believe the difference, in nineteen cases out of twenty, arises 
from different habits about private prayer. I believe that those who are
not 
eminently holy pray little, and those who are eminently holy pray much.

I dare say this opinion will startle some readers. I have little doubt
that 
many look on eminent holiness as a kind of special gift, which none but a 
few must pretend to aim at. They admire it at a distance in books. They 
think it beautiful when they see an example near themselves. But as to its

being a thing within the reach of any but a very few, such a notion never 
seems to enter their minds. In short, they consider it a kind of monopoly 
granted to a few favored believers, but certainly not to all.

Now I believe that this is a most dangerous mistake. I believe that 
spiritual as well as natural greatness depends in a high degree on the 
faithful use of means within everybody's reach. Of course I do not say we 
have a right to expect a miraculous grant of intellectual gifts; but this
I 
do say, that when a man is once converted to God, his progress in holiness

will be much in accordance with his own diligence in the use of God's 
appointed means. And I assert confidently that the principal means by
which 
most believers have become great in the church of Christ is the habit of 
diligent private prayer.

Look through the lives of the brightest and best of God's servants,
whether 
in the Bible or not. See what is written of Moses and David and Daniel and

Paul. Mark what is recorded of Luther and Bradford the Reformers. Observe 
what is related of the private devotions of Whitefield and Cecil and Venn 
and Bickersteth and M'Cheyne. Tell me of one of all the goodly fellow****p
of 
saints and martyrs, who has not had this mark most prominently - he was a 
man of prayer. Depend upon it, prayer is power.

Prayer obtains fresh and continued outpourings of the Spirit. He alone 
begins the work of grace in a man's heart. He alone can carry it forward
and 
make it prosper. But the good Spirit loves to be entreated. And those who 
ask most will have most of his influence.

Prayer is the surest remedy. Against the devil and besetting sins. That
sin 
will never stand firm which is heartily prayed against. That devil will 
never long keep dominion over us which we beseech the Lord to cast forth. 
But then we must spread out all our cage before our heavenly Physician, if

he is to give us daily relief.

Do you wish to grow in grace and be a devoted Christian? Be very sure, if 
you wish it, you could not have a more im****tant question than this - Do
you 
pray?

I ask whether you pray, because neglect of prayer is one great cause of 
backsliding.

There is such a thing as going back in religion after making a good 
profession. Men may run well for a season, like the Galatians, and then
turn 
aside after false teachers. Men may profess loudly while their feelings
are 
warm, as Peter did, and then in the hour of trial deny their Lord. Men may

lose their first love as the Ephesians did. Men may cool down in their
zeal 
to do good, like Mark the companion of Paul. Men may follow an apostle for
a 
season, and like Demas go back to the world. All these things men may do.

It is a miserable thing to be a backslider. Of all unhappy things that can

befall a man, I suppose it is the worst. A stranded ****p, a brokenwinged 
eagle, a garden overrun with weeds, a harp without strings, a church in 
ruins, all these are sad sights, but a backslider is a sadder sight still.
A 
wounded conscience - a mind sick of itself - a memory full of 
self-reproach - a heart pierced through with the Lord's arrows -a spirit 
broken with a load of inward accusation - all this is a taste of hell. It
is 
a hell on earth. Truly that saying of the wise man is solemn and weighty, 
"The backslider in heart shall be filled with his own ways" (Prov. 14:14).

Now what is the cause of most backslidings? I believe, as a general rule, 
one of the chief causes is neglect of private prayer. Of course the secret

history of falls will not be known till the last day. I can only give my 
opinion as a minister of Christ and a student of the heart. That opinion
is, 
I repeat distinctly, that backsliding generally first begins with neglect
of 
private prayer.

Bibles read without prayer; sermons heard without prayer; marriages 
contracted without prayer; journeys undertaken without prayer; residences 
chosen without prayer; friend****ps formed without prayer; the daily act of

private prayer itself hurried over, or gone through without heart: these
are 
the kind of downward steps by which many a Christian descends to a
condition 
of spiritual palsy, or reaches the point where God allows him to have a 
tremendous fall. This is the process which forms the lingering Lots, the 
unstable Samsons, the wife-idolizing Solomons, the inconsistent Asas, the 
pliable Jehoshaphats, the over-careful Marthas, of whom so many are to be 
found in the church of Christ. Often the simple history of such cases is 
this: they became careless about private prayer.

You may be very sure men fall in private long before they fall in public. 
They are backsliders on their knees long before they backslide openly in
the 
eyes of the world. Like Peter, they first disregard the Lord's warning to 
watch and pray, and then like Peter, their strength is gone, and in the
hour 
of temptation they deny their Lord.

The world takes notice of their fall, and scoffs loudly. But the world
knows 
nothing of the real reason. The heathen succeeded in making a well-known 
Christian offer incense to an idol, by threatening him with a punishment 
worse than death. They then triumphed greatly at the sight of his
cowardice 
and apostasy. But the heathen did not know the fact of which history
informs 
us, that on that very morning he had left his bed chamber hastily, and 
without fini****ng his usual prayers.

If you are a Christian indeed, I trust you will never be a backslider. But

if you do not wish to be a backsliding Christian, remember the question I 
ask you: Do you pray?

I ask, lastly, whether you pray because prayer is one of the best means of

happiness and contentment.

We live in a world where sorrow abounds. This has always been its state 
since sin came in. There cannot be sin without sorrow. And until sin is 
driven out from the world, it is vain for any one to suppose he can escape

sorrow.

Some without doubt have a larger cup of sorrow to drink than others. But
few 
are to be found who live long without sorrows or cares of one sort or 
another. Our bodies, our property, our families, our children, our 
relations, our servants, our friends, our neighbors, our worldly callings,

each and all of these are fountains of care. Sicknesses, deaths, losses, 
disappointments, partings, separations, ingratitude, slander, all these
are 
common things. We cannot get through life without them. Some day or other 
they find us out. The greater are our affections the deeper are our 
afflictions, and the more we love the more we have to weep.

And what is the best means of cheerfulness in such a world as this? How 
shall we get through this valley of tears with least pain? I know no
better 
means than the regular, habitual practice of taking everything to God in 
prayer. This is the plain advice that the Bible gives, both in the Old 
Testament and the New. What says the psalmist? "Call upon me in the day of

trouble, and I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me" (Ps. 50:15). 
"Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee: he shall never 
suffer the righteous to be moved" (Ps. 55:22). What says the apostle Paul?

"Be careful for nothing; but in everything, by prayer and supplication
with 
thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God: and the peace of 
God, which passeth all understanding shall keep your hearts and minds 
through Christ Jesus" (Phil. 4:6, 7). What says the apostle James? "Is any

afflicted among you? let him pray" (James 5:13).

This was the practice of all the saints whose history we have recorded in 
the Scriptures. This is what Jacob did when he feared his brother Esau.
This 
is what Moses did when the people were ready to stone him in the
wilderness. 
This is what Joshua did when Israel was defeated before the men of Ai.
This 
is what David did when he was in danger at Keilah. This is what Hezekiah
did 
when he received the letter from Sennacherib. This is what the church did 
when Peter was put in prison. This is what Paul did when he was cast into 
the dungeon at Philippi.

The only way to be really happy in such a world as this, is to be ever 
casting all our cares on God. It is trying to carry their own burdens
which 
so often makes believers sad. If they will tell their troubles to God, he 
will enable them to bear them as easily as Samson did the gates of Gaza.
If 
they are resolved to keep them to themselves, they will find one day that 
the very grasshopper is a burden.

There is a friend ever waiting to help us, if we will unbosom to him our 
sorrow - a friend who pitied the poor and sick and sorrowful, when he was 
upon earth - a friend who knows the heart of man, for he lived
thirty-three 
years as a man among us - a friend who can weep with the weepers, for he
was 
a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief - a friend who is able to help 
us, for there never was earthly pain he could not cure. That friend is
Jesus 
Christ. The way to be happy is to be always opening our hearts to him. Oh 
that we were all like that poor Christian who only answered, when
threatened 
and punished, "I must tell the Lord."

Jesus can make those happy who trust him and call on him, whatever be
their 
outward condition. He can give them peace of heart in a prison,
contentment 
in the midst of poverty, comfort in the midst of bereavements, joy on the 
brink of the grave. There is a mighty fulness in him for all his believing

members - a fulness that is ready to be poured out on every one that will 
ask in prayer. Oh that men would understand that happiness, does not
depend 
on outward cir***stances, but on the state of the heart.

Prayer can lighten crosses for us however heavy. It can bring down to our 
side One who will help us to bear them. Prayer can open a door for us when

our way seems hedged up. It can bring down One who will say, "This is the 
way, walk in it." Prayer can let in a ray of hope when all our earthly 
prospects seem darkened. It can bring down One who will say, "I will never

leave thee, nor forsake thee." Prayer can obtain relief for us when those
we 
love most are taken away, and the world feels empty. It can bring down One

who can fill the gap in our hearts with himself, and say to the waves 
within, "Peace; be still." Oh that men were not so like Hagar in the 
wilderness, blind to the well of living waters close beside them.

I want you to be happy. I know I cannot ask you a more useful question
than 
this: Do you pray?

And now it is high time for me to bring this tract to an end. I trust I
have 
brought before you things that will be seriously considered. I heartily
pray 
God that this consideration may be blessed to your soul.

Let me speak a parting word to those who do not pray. I dare not suppose 
that all who read these pages are praying people. If you are a prayerless 
person, suffer me to speak to you this day on God's behalf.

Prayerless reader, I can only warn you, but I do warn you most solemnly. I

warn you that you are in a position of fearful danger. If you die in your 
present state, you are a lost soul. You will only rise again to be
eternally 
miserable. I warn you that of all professing Christians you are most
utterly 
without excuse. There is not a single good reason that you can show for 
living without prayer.

It is useless to say you know not how to pray. Prayer is the simplest act
in 
all religion. It is simply speaking to God. It needs neither learning nor 
wisdom nor book knowledge to begin it. It needs nothing but heart and
will. 
The weakest infant can cry when he is hungry. The poorest beggar can hold 
out his hand for alms, and does not wait to find fine words. The most 
ignorant man will find something to say to God, if he has only a mind.

It is useless to say you have no convenient place to pray in. Any man can 
find a place private enough, if he is disposed. Our Lord prayed on a 
mountain; Peter on the housetop; Isaac in the field; Nathanael under the
fig 
tree; Jonah in the whale's belly. Any place may become a closet, an
oratory, 
and a Bethel, and be to us the presence of God.

It is useless to say you have no time. There is plenty of time, if men
will 
employ it. Time may be short, but time is always long enough for prayer. 
Daniel had the affairs of a kingdom on his hands, and yet he prayed three 
times a day. David was ruler over a mighty nation, and yet he says,
"Evening 
and morning and at noon will I pray" (Ps. 55:17). When time is really 
wanted, time can always be found.

It is useless to say you cannot pray till you have faith and a new heart, 
and that you must sit still and wait for them. This is to add sin to sin.
It 
is bad enough to be unconverted and going to hell. It is even worse to
say, 
"I know it, but will not cry for mercy." This is a kind of argument for 
which there is no warrant in Scripture. "Call ye upon the Lord," saith 
Isaiah, "while he is near" (Isa. 55:6). "Take with you words, and turn
unto 
the Lord," says Hosea (Hos. 14:1). "Repent and pray," says Peter to Simon 
Magus (Acts 8:22). If you want faith and a new heart, go and cry to the
Lord 
for them. The very attempt to pray has often been the quickening of a dead

soul.

Oh, prayerless reader, who and what are you that you will not ask anything

of God? Have you made a covenant with death and hell? Are you at peace
with 
the worm and the fire? Have you no sins to be pardoned? Have you no fear
of 
eternal torment? Have you no desire after heaven? Oh that you would awake 
from your present folly. Oh that you would consider your latter end. Oh
that 
you would arise and call upon God. Alas, there is a day coming when many 
shall pray loudly, "Lord, Lord, open to us," but all too late; when many 
shall cry to the rocks to fall on them and the hills to. cover them, who 
would never cry to God. In all affection, I warn you, beware lest this be 
the end of your soul. Salvation is very near you. Do not lose heaven for 
want of asking.

Let me speak to those who have real desires for salvation, but know not
what 
steps to take, or where to- begin. I cannot but hope that some readers may

be in this state of mind, and if there be but one such I must offer him 
affectionate counsel.

In every journey there must be a first step. There must be a change from 
sitting still to moving forward. The journeyings of Israel from Egypt to 
Canaan were long and wearisome. Forty years pass away before they crossed 
Jordan. Yet there was some one who moved first when they marched from
Ramah 
to Succoth. When does a man really take his first step in coming out from 
sin and the world? He does it in the day when he first prays with his
heart.

In every building the first stone must be laid, and the first blow must be

struck. The ark was one hundred and twenty years in building. Yet there
was 
a day when Noah laid his axe to the first tree he cut down to form it. The

temple of Solomon was a glorious building. But there was a day when the 
first huge stone was laid deep in mount Moriah. When does the building of 
the Spirit really begin to appear in a man's heart? It begins, so far as
we 
can judge, when he first pours out his heart to God in prayer.

If you desire salvation, and want to know what to do, I advise you to go 
this very day to the Lord Jesus Christ, in the first private place you can

find, and earnestly and heartily entreat him in prayer to save your soul.

Tell him that you have heard that he receives sinners, and has said, "Him 
that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out." Tell him that you are a 
poor vile sinner, and that you come to him on the faith of his own 
invitation. Tell him you put yourself wholly and entirely in his hands;
that 
you feel vile and helpless, and hopeless in yourself: and that except he 
saves you, you have no hope of being saved at all. Beseech him to deliver 
you from the guilt, the power, and the consequences of sin. Beseech him to

pardon you, and wash you in his own blood. Beseech him to give you a new 
heart, and plant the Holy Spirit in Your Soul. Beseech him to give you
grace 
and faith and will and power to be his disciple and servant from this day 
forever. Oh, reader, go this very day, and tell these things to the Lord 
Jesus Christ, if you really are in earnest about your soul.

Tell him in your own way, and your own words. If a doctor came to see you 
when sick you could tell him where you felt pain. If your soul feels its 
disease indeed, you can surely find something to tell Christ.

Doubt not his willingness to save you, because you are a sinner. It is 
Christ's office to save sinners. He says himself, "I came not to call the 
righteous, but sinners to repentance" (Luke 5:32).

Wait not because you feel unworthy. Wait for nothing. Wait for nobody. 
Waiting comes from the devil. just as you are, go to Christ. The worse you

are, the more need you have to apply to him. You will never mend yourself
by 
staying away.

Fear not because your prayer is stammering, your words feeble, and your 
language poor. Jesus can understand you. Just as a mother understands the 
first lispings of her infant, so does the blessed Saviour understand 
sinners. He can read a sigh, and see a meaning in a groan.

Despair not because you do not get an answer immediately. While you are 
speaking, Jesus is listening. If he delays an answer, it is only for wise 
reasons, and to try if you are in earnest. The answer will surely come. 
Though it tarry, wait for it. It will surely come.

Oh, reader, if you have any desire to, be saved, remember the advice I
have 
given you this day. Act upon it honestly and heartily, and you shall be 
saved.

Let me speak, lastly, to those who do pray. I trust that some who read
this 
tract know well what prayer is, and have the Spirit of adoption. To all 
such, I offer a few words of brotherly counsel and exhortation. The
incense 
offered in the tabernacle was ordered to be made in a particular way. Not 
every kind of incense would do. Let us remember this, and be careful about

the matter and manner of our prayers.

Brethren who pray, if I know anything of a Christian's heart, you are
often 
sick of your own prayers. You never enter into the apostle's words, "When
I 
would do good, evil is present with me," so thoroughly as you sometimes do

upon your knees. You can understand David's words, I hate vain thoughts." 
You can sympathize with that poor converted Hottentot who was overheard 
praying, "Lord, deliver me from all my enemies, and above all, from that
bad 
man myself." There are few children of God who do not often find the
season 
of prayer a season of conflict. The devil has special wrath against us
when 
he sees us on our knees. Yet, I believe that prayers which cost us no 
trouble should be regarded with great suspicion. I believe we are very
poor 
judges of the goodness of our prayers, and that the prayer which pleases
us 
least, often pleases God most. Suffer me then, as a companion in the 
Christian warfare, to offer you a few words of exhortation. One thing, at 
least, we all feel: we must pray. We cannot give it up. We must go on.

I commend then to your attention, the im****tance of reverence and humility

in prayer. Let us never forget what we are, and what a solemn thing it is
to 
speak with God. Let us beware of ru****ng into his presence with
carelessness 
and levity. Let us say to ourselves: "I am on holy ground. This is no
other 
than the gate of heaven. If I do not mean what I say, I am trifling with 
God. If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me." Let us 
keep in mind the words of Solomon, "Be not rash with thy mouth, and let
not 
thy heart be hasty to utter anything before God; for God is in heaven, and

thou on earth" (Eccl. 5:2). When Abraham spoke to God, he said, "I am dust

and ashes." When Job spoke to God, he said, I am vile." Let us do
likewise.

I commend to you the im****tance of praying spiritually. I mean by that,
that 
we should labor always to have the direct help of the Spirit in our
prayers, 
and beware above all things of formality. There is nothing so spiritual
but 
that it may become a form, and this is specially true of private prayer.
We 
may insensibly get into the habit of using the fittest possible words, and

offering the most scriptural petitions, and yet do it all by rote without 
feeling it, and walk daily round an old beaten path. I desire to touch
this 
point with caution and delicacy. I know that there are certain great
things 
we daily want, and that there is nothing necessarily formal in asking for 
these things in the same words. The world, the devil, and our hearts, are 
daily the same. Of necessity we must daily go over old ground. But this I 
say, we must be very careful on this point. If the skeleton and outline of

our prayers be by habit almost a form, let us strive that the clothing and

filling up of our prayers be as far as possible of the Spirit, As to
praying 
out of a book in our private devotions, it is a habit I cannot praise. If
we 
can tell our doctors the state of our bodies without a book, we ought to
be 
able to tell the state of our souls to God. I have no objection to a man 
using crutches when he is first recovering from a broken limb. It is
better 
to use crutches, than not to walk at all. But if I saw him all his life on

crutches, I should not think it matter for congratulation. I should like
to 
see him strong enough to throw his crutches away.

I commend to you the im****tance of making prayer a regular business of
life. 
I might say something of the value of regular times in the day for prayer.

God is a God of order. The hours for morning and evening sacrifice in the 
Jewish temple were not fixed as they were without a meaning. Disorder is 
eminently one of the fruits of sin. But I would not bring any under
bondage. 
This only I say, that it is essential to your soul's health to make
praying 
a part of the business of every twenty four hours in your life. just as
you 
allot time to eating, sleeping, and business, so also allot time to
prayer. 
Choose your own hours and seasons. At the very least, speak with God in
the 
morning, before you speak with the world: and speak with God at night,
after 
you have done with the world. But settle it in your minds, that prayer is 
one of the great things of every day. Do not drive it into a corner. Do
not 
give it the scraps and parings of your duty. Whatever else you make a 
business of, make a business of prayer.

I commend to you the im****tance of perseverance in prayer. Once having
begun 
the habit, never give it up. Your heart will sometimes say, "You have had 
family prayers: what mighty harm if you leave private prayer undone?" Your

body will sometimes say, "You are unwell, or sleepy, or weary; you need
not 
pray." Your mind will sometimes say, "You have im****tant business to
attend 
to today; cut short your prayers." Look on all such suggestions as coming 
direct from Satan. They are all as good' as saying, "Neglect your soul." I

do not maintain that prayers should always be of the same length; but I do

say, let no excuse make you give up prayer. Paul said, "Continue in
prayer, 
and, "Pray without ceasing." He did not mean that men should be always on 
their knees, but he did mean that our prayers should be, like the
continual 
burnt offering, steadily persevered in every day; that it should be like 
seed time and harvest, and summer and winter, unceasingly coming round at 
regular seasons; that it should be like the fire on the altar, not always 
consuming sacrifices, but never completely going out. Never forget that
you 
may tie together morning and evening devotions, by an endless chain of
short 
ejaculatory prayers throughout the day. Even in company, or business, or
in 
the very streets, you may be silently sending up little winged messengers
to 
God, as Nehemiah did in the very presence of Artaxerxes. And never think 
that time is wasted which is given to God. A nation does not become poorer

because it loses one year of working days in seven, by keeping the
Sabbath. 
A Christian never finds he is a loser, in the long run, by persevering in 
prayer.

I commend to you the im****tance of earnestness in prayer. It is not 
necessary that a man should shout, or scream, or be very loud, in order to

prove that he is in earnest. But it is desirable that we should be hearty 
and fervent and warm, and ask as if we were really interested in what we 
were doing. It is the "effectual fervent" prayer that "availeth much."
This 
is the lesson that is taught us by the expressions used in Scripture about

prayer. It is called, "crying, knocking, wrestling, laboring, striving." 
This is the lesson taught us by scripture examples. Jacob is one. He said
to 
the angel at Penuel, "I will not let thee go, except thou bless me" (Gen. 
32:26). Daniel is another. Hear how he pleaded with God: "O Lord, hear; O 
Lord, forgive; O Lord, hearken and do; defer not, for thine own sake, 0 my

God" (Dan. 9:19). Our Lord Jesus Christ is another. It is written of him, 
"In the days of his flesh, he offered up prayers and supplications with 
strong crying and tears" (Heb. 5:7). Alas, how unlike is this to many of
our 
supplications! How tame and lukewarm they seem by comparison. How truly 
might God say to many of us, "You do not really want what you pray for."
Let 
us try to amend this fault. Let us knock loudly at the door of grace, like

Mercy in Pilgrim's Progress, as if we must perish unless heard. Let us 
settle it in our minds, that cold prayers are a sacrifice without fire.
Let 
us remember the story of Demosthenes the great orator, when one came to
him, 
and wanted him to plead his cause. He heard him without attention, while
he 
told his story without earnestness. The man saw this, and cried out with 
anxiety that it was all true. "Ah," said Demosthenes, "I believe you now."

I commend to you the im****tance of praying with faith. We should endeavor
to 
believe that our prayers are heard, and that if we ask things according to

God's will, we shall be answered. This is the plain command of our Lord 
Jesus Christ: "Whatsoever things ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye 
receive them, and ye shall have them" (Mark 11:24). Faith is to prayer
what 
the feather is to the arrow: without it prayer will not hit the mark. We 
should cultivate the habit of pleading promises in our prayers.

We should take with us some promise, and say, "Lord, here is thine own
word 
pledged. Do for us as thou hast said." This was the habit of Jacob and
Moses 
and David. The 119th Psalm is full of things asked, "according to thy
word." 
Above all, we should cultivate the habit of expecting answers to our 
prayers. We should do like the merchant who sends his ****ps to sea. We 
should not be satisfied, unless we see some return. Alas, there are few 
points on which Christians come short so much as this. The church at 
Jerusalem made prayer without ceasing for Peter in prison; but when the 
prayer was answered, they would hardly believe it (Acts 12:15). It is a 
solemn saying of Traill, "There is no surer mark of trifling in prayer,
than 
when men are careless what they get by prayer."

I commend to you the im****tance of boldness in prayer. There is an
unseemly 
familiarity in some men's prayers which I cannot praise. But there is such
a 
thing as a holy boldness, which is exceedingly to be desired. I mean such 
boldness as that of Moses, when he pleads with God not to destroy Israel 
"Wherefore," says he, "should the Egyptians speak and say, For mischief
did 
he bring them out, to slay them in the mountains? Turn from thy fierce 
anger" (Exod. 32:12). I mean such boldness as that of Joshua, when the 
children of Israel were defeated before men of Ai: "What," says he, "wilt 
thou do unto thy great name?" (Josh. 7:9). This is the boldness for which 
Luther was remarkable. One who heard him praying said, "What a spirit,
what 
a confidence was in his very expressions. With such a reverence he sued,
as 
one begging of God, and yet with such hope and assurance, as if he spoke 
with a loving father or friend." This is the boldness which distinguished 
Bruce, a great Scotch divine of the seventeenth century. His prayers were 
said to be "like bolts shot up into heaven." Here also I fear we sadly
come 
short. We do not sufficiently realize the believer's privileges. We do not

plead as often as we might, "Lord, are we not thine own people? Is it not 
for thy glory that we should be sanctified? Is it not for thy honor that
thy 
gospel should increase?"

I commend to you the im****tance of fullness in prayer. I do not forget
that 
our Lord warns us against the example of the Pharisees, who, for pretense,

made long prayers; and commands us when we pray not to use vain
repetitions. 
But I cannot forget, on the other hand, that he has given his own sanction

to large and long devotions by continuing all night in prayer to God. At
all 
events, we are not likely in this day to err on the side of praying too 
much. Might it not rather be feared that many believers in this generation

pray too little? Is not the actual amount of time that many Christians
give 
to prayer, in the aggregate, very small? I am afraid these questions
cannot 
be answered satisfactorily. I am afraid the private devotions of many are 
most painfully scanty and limited; just enough to prove they are alive and

no more. They really seem to want little from God. They seem to have
little 
to confess, little to ask for, and little to thank him for. Alas, this is 
altogether wrong. Nothing is more common than to hear believers
complaining 
that they do not get on. They tell us that they do not grow in grace as
they 
could desire. Is it not rather to be suspected that many have quite as
much 
grace as they ask for? Is it not the true account of many, that they have 
little, because they ask little? The cause of their weakness is to be
found 
in their own stunted, dwarfish, clipped, contracted, hurried, narrow, 
diminutive prayers. They have not, because they ask not. Oh, we are not 
straitened in Christ, but in ourselves. The Lord says, "Open thy mouth
wide, 
and I will fill it." But we are like the King of Israel who smote on the 
ground thrice and stayed, when he ought to have smitten five or six times.

I commend to you the im****tance of particularity in prayer. We ought not
to 
be content with great general petitions. We ought to specify our wants 
before the throne of grace. It should not be enough to confess we are 
sinners: we should name the sins of which our conscience tells us we are 
most guilty. It should not be enough to ask for holiness; we should name
the 
graces in which we feel most deficient. It should not be enough to tell
the 
Lord we are in trouble; we should describe our trouble and all its 
peculiarities. This is what Jacob did when he feared his brother Esau. He 
tells God exactly what it is that he fears (Gen. 32:11). This is what 
Eliezer did, when he sought a wife for his master's son. He spreads before

God precisely what he wants (Gen. 24:12). This is what Paul did when he
had 
a thorn in the flesh. He besought the Lord (II Cor. 12:8). This is true 
faith and confidence. We should believe that nothing is too small to be 
named before God. What should we think of the patient who told his doctor
he 
was ill, but never went into particulars? What should we think of the wife

who told her husband she was unhappy, but did not specify the cause? What 
should we think of the child who told his father he was in trouble, but 
nothing more? Christ is the true bridegroom of the soul, the true
physician 
of the heart, the real father of all his people. Let us show that we feel 
this by being unreserved in our communications with him. Let us hide no 
secrets from him. Let us tell him all our hearts.

I commend to you the im****tance of intercession in our prayers. We are all

selfish by nature, and our selfishness is very apt to stick to us, even
when 
we are converted. There is a tendency in us to think only of our own
Souls, 
our own spiritual conflicts, our own progress in religion, and to forget 
others. Against this tendency we all have need to watch and strive, and
not 
least in our prayers. We should study to be of a public spirit. We should 
stir ourselves up to name other names besides our own before the throne of

grace. We should try to bear in our hearts the whole world, the heathen,
the 
Jews, the Roman Catholics, the body of true believers, the professing 
Protestant churches, the country in which we live, the congregation to
which 
we belong, the household in which we sojourn, the friends and relations we

are connected with. For each and all of these we should plead. This is the

highest charity. He loves me best who loves me in his prayers. This is for

our soul's health. It enlarges our sympathies and expands our hearts. This

is for the benefit of the church. The wheels of all machinery for
extending 
the gospel are moved by prayer. They do as much for the Lord's cause who 
intercede like Moses on the mount, as they do who fight like Joshua in the

thick of the battle. This is to be like Christ. He bears the names of his 
people, as their High Priest, before the Father. Oh, the privilege of
being 
like Jesus! This is to , be a true helper to ministers. If I must choose a

congregation, give me a people that pray.

I commend to you the im****tance of thankfulness in prayer. I know well
that 
asking God is one thing and praising God is another. But I see so close a 
connection between prayer and praise in the Bible, that I dare not call
that 
true prayer in which thankfulness has no part. It is not for nothing that 
Paul says, "By prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your
requests 
be made known unto God" (Phil. 4:6). "Continue in prayer, and watch in the

same with thanksgiving" (Col. 4:2). It is of mercy that we are not in
hell. 
It is of mercy that we have the hope of heaven. It is of mercy that we
live 
in a land of spiritual light. It is of mercy that we have been called by
the 
Spirit, and not left to reap the fruit of our own ways. It is of mercy
that 
we still live and have op****tunities of glorifying God actively or 
passively. Surely these thoughts should crowd on our minds whenever we
speak 
with God. Surely we should never open our lips in prayer without blessing 
God for that free grace by which we live, and for that loving kindness
which 
endureth for ever. Never was there an eminent saint who was not full of 
thankfulness. St. Paul hardly ever writes an epistle without beginning
with 
thankfulness. Men like Whitefield in the last century, and Bickersteth in 
our time, abounded in thankfulness. Oh, reader, if we would be bright and 
****ning lights in our day, we must cherish a spirit of praise. Let our 
prayers be thankful prayers.

I commend to you the im****tance of watchfulness over your prayers. Prayer
is 
that point in religion at which you must be most of all on your guard.
Here 
it is that true religion begins; here it flourishes, and here it decays. 
Tell me what a man's prayers are, and I will soon tell you the state of
his 
soul. Prayer is the spiritual pulse. By this the spiritual health may be 
tested. Prayer is the spiritual weatherglass. By this we may know whether
it 
is fair or foul with our hearts. Oh, let us keep an eye continually upon
our 
private devotions. Here is the pith and marrow of our practical 
Christianity. Sermons and books and tracts, and committee meetings and the

company of good men, are all good in their way, but they will never make
up 
for the neglect of private prayer. Mark well the places and society and 
companions that unhinge your hearts for communion with God and make your 
prayers drive heavily. There be on your guard. Observe narrowly what
friends 
and what employments leave your soul in the most spiritual frame, and most

ready to speak with God. To these cleave and stick fast. If you will take 
care of your prayers, nothing shall go very wrong with your soul.

I offer these points for your private consideration. I do it in all 
humility. I know no one who needs to be reminded of them more than I do 
myself. But I believe them to be God's own truth, and I desire myself and 
all I love to feel them more.

I want the times we live in to be praying times. I want the Christians of 
our day to be praying Christians. I want the church to be a praying
church. 
My heart's desire and prayer in sending forth this tract is to promote a 
spirit of prayerfulness. I want those who never prayed yet, to arise and 
call upon God, and I want those who do pray, to see that they are not 
praying amiss.
 




 1 Posts in Topic:
A Call To Prayer
"Carl" <sain  2008-05-12 13:20:26 

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tan13V112 Thu Jul 24 15:03:23 CDT 2008.