SERMON XIII.

ON PRAYER.

MATTHEW xv. 22.

Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou Son of David.

SUCH is the lamentation of a soul touched with its wretchedness, and which, addresses itself to the sovereign physician, in whose compassion alone it hopes to find relief. Such was the language of the woman of Canaan, who wished to obtain from the Son of David the recovery of her daughter. Persuaded of his power, and expecting every thing from his known goodness to the unfortunate, she knew no surer way of rendering him propitious, than the cry of affliction, and the simple tale of misfortune. This therefore is the model which the Church holds out to us on this occasion, in order to animate and to instruct us how to pray; that is to say, in order to render more pleasing, and more familiar to us, this most essential duty of Christian piety.

For, my brethren, prayer is the proper state of man ; at is the first duty of man; it is the only resource of man; it is the whole consolation of man; and, to speak in the language of the Holy Spirit, it is the whole

man.

Yes, my friends, if the world, in the midst of which we live, be but one continued scene of temptation; if all the situations in which we may be, and all the objects which environ us, seem united with our corruption, for the purpose of either weakening or seducing us; if riches corrupt, poverty exasperate, prosperity exalt and affliction depress us; if business prey upon, and ease render us effeminate; if the sciences inflate, and ignorance lead us into error; if society engage us too much, and solitude leave us too much to ourselves; if pleasures seduce, and pious works excite our pride; if health arouse the passions, and sickness nourish either lukewarmness or murmurings; in a word, if, since the fall of nature, every thing in, or around us, be a source of danger; in a situation so deplorable, what hope of salvation, O my God! could there be still remaining to man, if, from the depth of his wretchedness, he did not cause his lamentations continually to ascend towards the throne of thy mercy, in order that thou thyself may come to his aid, to put a check upon his passions, to clear up his errors, to sustain his weakness, to lesson his temptations, to abridge his hours of trial, and to save him from his backslidings?

The Christian is therefore a man of prayer; his origin, his situation, his nature, his wants, his place of abode, all inform him that prayer is necessary. The church herself, in which he is incorporated through the grace of regeneration, a stranger here below, is always

full of prayer and lamentation; she recognizes her children, only through the sighs which they direct towards their country; and the Christian who does not pray, cuts himself off from the assembly of the holy, and is worse than an unbeliever.

How comes it then, my brethren, that a duty not only so essential, but even so consolatory to man, is at present so much neglected? How comes it that it is considered either as a gloomy and tiresome duty, or as appropriated only for retired souls; insomuch, that our instructions upon prayer scarcely interest those who listen to us, who seem as if persuaded that they are more adapted to the cloister than to the court?

Whence comes this abuse, and this universal neglect of prayer in the world? It arises from two pretexts, which I now mean to overthrow: In the first place, men do not pray, because they say they know not how to pray, and that consequently it is lost time: 2dly, They do not pray, because they complain that the consequence of prayer is a wandering of mind which renders it insipid and disagreeable. The first pretext therefore, which I am to combat, is drawn from their ignorance of the manner in which they ought to pray. The second is founded on the distaste they feel for, and the difficulties they find in prayer. You must be taught, therefore, in the first place how to pray, since you know it not. And, secondly, the habit of prayer must be rendered easy to you, since you find it so troublesome and difficult.

PART I. "The commandments which I command you, said formerly the Lord to his people, are neither above your strength, nor the reach of your mind: they

are not hidden from you, nor far off, that you should say, who shall go up for us to Heaven and bring them unto us, that we may hear them and do them? Nor are they beyond the sea, that you should say, who shall go over the sea for us and bring them unto us, that we may hear them and do them? But the word is very nigh unto you, in your mouth, and in your heart, that you may do it."

Now, what the Lord hath said in general of all the precepts of the law, that we have no occasion to seek beyond ourselves for the knowledge of them, but that they may be all accomplished in our heart and in our mouth, may more particularly be said of the precept of prayer, which is as the first and most essential of all.

Nevertheless, men continually allege in opposition to this duty, that, when they come to prayer, they know not what to say to God, and that praying is a secret of which they have never as yet been able to comprehend any thing. I say, then, that this pretext springs from three unrighteous dispositions: 1st. they are mistaken in the idea which they form of prayer; 2dly, they are not sufficiently sensible of their own wretchedness and wants; and 3dly, they do not love their God.

1st, I say that they are mistaken in the idea which they form of prayer. In effect, prayer is not an exertion of the mind, an arrangement of ideas, or a profound knowledge of the mysteries and counsels of God; it is a simple emotion of the heart; it is a lamentation of the soul, deeply affected at the sight of its own wretchedness, a keen and inward feeling of our wants and of our weakness, and an humble confidence which it lays open to its Lord, in order to obtain relief and deliverance from them. Prayer, supposes in him who prays, Vol. I.

47

neither great lights, uncommon knowledge, nor a mind more cultivated and exalted than that of the rest of men; it supposes only more faith, more contrition, and a warmer desire of deliverance from its temptations and from its wretchedness. Prayer is neither a secret nor a science which we learn from men; an art, or an unknown method, upon which it is necessary to consult skilful teachers, in order to be master of its rules and precepts. The methods and maxims thereupon, pretended to be laid down to us in our days, are either acts of eccentricity which are not to be followed, or the vain speculations of an idle mind, or the effects of fanaticism which may stop at nothing, and which, far from edifying the church, hath merited her censures, and hath furnished, to the impious, matter of ridicule against her, and to the world fresh pretexts of contempt for, and of disgust with prayer. Prayer is a duty upon which we are all born instructed: the rules of this divine science are written in our heasts alone; and the Spirit of God is the only master to teach it.

An holy and innocent being, who is penetrated with the greatness of God, struck with the terror of his judgments, and touched with his infinite mercies, who knows only how to humble himself before him, to acknowledge, in the simplicity of his heart, his goodness and wonders, to adore the orders of his providence upon him, and to accept the crosses and afflictions imposed upon him by the wisdom of his counsels; who is acquainted with no prayer more sublime than to be sensible before God of all the corruption of his heart, to groan over his own hardness of heart and opposition to all good, and to entreat of him, with a fervent faith, to change him, to destroy in him that man of sin, which, in spite of his firmest