CONCLUSION.

AND now, readers, the Bible History of Prayer is before you. And I ask, is there one example noticed in these pages, or to be found in the Bible itself, of sincere, humble, importunate prayer, which was not answered? or which was not answered favorably? Is there, among the thousand pages of that Book, which speaks of God's condescending mercy to man, one intimation that praying breath ever was, or ever will be, spent in vain? Our History begins with the race, and stretches through a period of more than four thousand years; and, while the examples are numerous, and the exhortations and encouragements to this duty are quite as numerous, there is not one solitary intimation that the prayer of a righteous man was ever rejected. Good men, in a few instances, have been forbidden to pray; but it was in reference to such as had filled up the measure of their iniquities, and for whose recovery to obedience and holiness no further means could consistently be used.

But, to you, a throne of grace presents itself; and, before it, you are invited to prostrate yourselves, and to seek pardon, mercy, eternal life, at the hands of a gracious God. More than this: you may ask not only for the life to come, but for the life that now is-every blessing which will be of true and permanent value to you.

Before concluding, the author wishes the privilege of briefly addressing a few classes more specifically, and of impressing upon them the importance of an exercise, which may result in blessings of eternal and incomprehensible value.

There is the young man, whom he would attract, if possible, to intercourse and communion with God. And yet, he is aware, that, of all persons, young men are probably most

averse to prayer. In the flush of health-amid the buoyancy of youthful hopes-on the stream of earthly pleasure, gliding smoothly and joyfully, they, least of all, feel the necessity of such a resort. Yet, for the reason that this necessity is so little felt, the influences and blessings which result from prayer are the more important.

Would that young man, who, in a moment of temptation, put his hand into the money-drawer of his employer, have done so unworthy a deed, had he, that morning, prayed?

Would he have gone forth to the duelling-ground, intent on taking the life of a fellow-mortal, and running the hazard of pouring anguish into the bosom of a fond mother and beloved sisters, besides rushing unbidden into the presence of a holy God, had he first bowed, in humility, at the footstool of sovereign mercy?

Would he have entered the "house" which "inclineth unto death," or communed with the "stranger," whose "paths incline unto the dead,” had he listened to the monitory voice of wisdom, given in answer to prayer? "None that go in to her, return again; neither take they hold of the paths of life!"

In short, what youth would venture to the theatre-to the gambling retreat-or to the house of madness and inebriation-there laying, perhaps, in a single night, the foundation of ruined health and blasted reputation, had he sought the paternal care, and restraining influence, of a Heavenly Father? Ah me! these are questions which are too often put by young men only when the die is cast!-when the work of ruin is accomplished! But why may not the voice of wisdom be heard in season? Why not, my young friends, pursue a course which will effectually secure you against such temptations?-against the wish to frequent such haunts as have led thousands-as firm and cautious as you are-to all the wretchedness of blighted prospects here, and sealed their doom for a long eternity hereafter?

The writer is acquainted with one who commenced a life of prayer at an early age. Has he lived to regret it? So far from this, that now, when the shades of autumn begin to thicken around him, if on one habit he looks with approbation, it is this. If, from one duty of life performed-though with many imperfections-he anticipates peace and joy, in declining years, it is that of prayer. One purpose of his life, the Christian poet has beautifully expressed:

In every joy that crowns my days

In every pain I bear

My heart shall find delight in praise,
Or seek relief in prayer.

And, to the young man, he can recommend no safer line of conduct; and from none, he is sure, will flow such pure and perennial joy. "The prayer of faith," says Bishop Porteus, "moves the hand of Him that moveth all things." With such a power placed at our disposal, who needs to be miserable here? Who may not be happy hereafter?

In urging the habit of prayer upon the youthful female, the writer feels, that, to insure success, there are fewer obstacles to remove, while there are more powerful auxiliaries to aid. Her heart may, indeed, be equally destitute of the love of God; but it is usually less callous, having been less exposed to temptation, and less conversant with the various forms of vice. Her affections are more easily moved; her sensibilities more tender and delicate; her apprehensions of evil more real; and her need of care and protection more urgent. Woman early wishes for a friend-a shield-a protector; and it is truly pleasant to reflect, that so many do early make God their Father and Friend, and grow up in the daily practice of prayer and communion with him. But, on the other hand, it is matter of painful regret, that even a single one should decline the proffered guardianship of a Being who is better able than all others to provide for them

in times of misfortune and adversity. Few sights are so painful as an aged female who has never consecrated her heart to God, and who has no hour in which to retire and hold converse with things unseen and eternal." On the other hand, what object more lovely than a young female, bending in all the ardor of her affection, and with the purity of a sanctified heart, before the throne of God-first yielding her entire self to Him, and then imploring blessings upon the earthly objects of her love and endearment. One such child in a family is of greater value than scores of graceless sons and daughters; and to the eye which appreciates moral loveliness, is of greater beauty than one who, without her disposition, sparkles with the gems of Golconda.

Let us take an example: and let those whom the writer is addressing, gather what her habits were who set the example. That example is worthy of imitation, and may well be extended to the more ordinary spheres of action, in which they are called to move.

The female in question was that day to become a bride. A party of interested friends had early assembled at the bridal mansion, to prepare the drawing-room with appropriate decorations for the approaching happy hour. The pleasant service done, they retired, happy in contributing to the joy of an occasion which, while it would take from them one whom they loved, would unite that one to the object of her highest earthly regard.

All had retired from the lovely spot. But there was one friend-a cousin-who, a short time after, stole gently back, to look once more at the varied beauty of the room, and to indulge by herself the hopes and anticipations of an affectionate heart, for the future happiness of her friend. She gently opened the door, and was about to enter, when she noticed the sofa was wheeled round to the precise spot where, that evening, the happy pair were to exchange their solemn vows; and there the lovely bride was kneeling, so absorbed

in her own solemn thoughts, that the entrance of her friend The friend stood, for a moment, gazing in

was unnoticed.

rapt admiration at the scene. She longed gently to approach, and kneel by her side; but the occasion was too sacred to admit of social union, and she retired.

And what, so solemn and absorbing, was occupying the thoughts of this happy being? Was it the anticipations of earthly felicity that had brought her there? Nothing of the kind! Delighted she might have been-and justly was. But she had one duty to perform-a high and holy dutyere she plighted her vows to the object of her earthly affections. There, in that spot, where she would soon stand and surrender her earthly all to her husband, she would, in solemn and devout prayer, first consecrate herself to the Lord. The prior consecration was due to Him.

I know not of an earthly scene more lovely, or of an immortal being, in similar circumstances, in an attitude more becoming. And I am sure, that, if her intended husband had himself the love of God reigning in his heart, and could he have scen her there-whatever he might have thought of her before-his love would have been more pure and intense.

What a beautiful example for the imitation of every youthful female! Not merely when about to be led to the hymenial altar; but at other times, and on occasions, and in circumstances more common. That heart of yours, my young friend, belongs to God; that eye should be directed to His glories, as they shine forth from His word and works; and that tongue should daily be employed in prayer and praise. I know not the subsequent history of that lovely bride-the beautiful incident in whose life I have related-but I am sure she never repented of that prayer-of that dedication of herself to God on the morning of her espousals. I know not that she escaped sorrow-for earthly sorrow is sometimes the lot of the friends of God-but I know he would not forget the kindness of her youth. He would not forsake