priety of such prayer is wholly derived from the fact, that we have many important interests which are only personal, and require to be transacted between us and our Maker. In their very nature, they are incapable of being disclosed to our fellow-creatures, without material disadvantages. Often they are such as we would not on any account reveal to any human being whatever. Often the disclosure, although not injurious to our moral or intellectual character, would wound our delicacy, or involve us in other kinds of distress. In a multitude of instances, where they are already partially known, we are still unable to disclose them entirely, and with that freedom which is indispensable to the due performance of this duty. Before our Maker, strange as it may seem, we can use a freedom of communication which cannot be exercised towards any created being. We know that he is already acquainted with whatever we have experienced, done, or suffered, either within or without the mind. We know that he is infinitely removed from all the partialities and prejudices, from all those cold, unkind, and contemptuous sentiments, which are so generally cherished by our fellow-men. We know that he will not betray us; but, however unworthy we have been, will regard us, if sincere and penitent, with kindness and mercy. We approach him therefore with a freedom, a confidence of communication, which can be used towards no other being in the universe.

Besides, God is nearer to all men, than any man to another. If we are willing to choose him as our friend, he is infinitely the nearest, the best, the most affectionate of all friends. With him therefore a communion can, and does exist, which no creature can hold with a fellow-creature.

In consequence of these facts, a freedom, and a fervency also, exists in secret prayer, when the subject of it is our personal concerns, which cannot exist in the presence of others.

With these things premised, I observe, that the usefulness of prayer to individuals is found,

1. In the peculiar solemnity which it naturally induces on the mind.

In secret prayer, a man comes directly into the presence of God. This great and awful Being is the source of all solemn thoughts and emotions in his creatures, and the object

in which such thoughts ultimately terminate. Every thing in his character, every thing in our character and circumstances, every thing in our relations to him, and in the situation in which we are thus placed, the end for which we have entered our closets, the duty which we are performing, the retirement from the world, the presence of God, and the consciousness that his eye is on our hearts, all these conspire to drive away every trifling thought, and to banish every improper emotion. It is scarcely possible that the man, who has withdrawn to his closet, for the purpose of meeting God face to face, and who here remembers before whom he stands, on what business he has come, and of what importance that business is to himself, should fail to fix his thoughts in solemnity and awe, and hush every tendency to an unbecoming emotion.

To all men this state of mind is eminently useful, and indispensably necessary. Spiritual and immortal concerns demand, of course, and most obviously, this state of mind. We cannot attend to them in any other state with advantage, nor without serious disadvantage. We cannot see them as they are, nor feel them as they are. We cannot be influenced

to attend to them, nor to provide for them, as they indispensably demand. As they are of all possible consequence to us, so this state of mind, the only one in which we can usefully attend to them, becomes of a proportional impor

tance.

Thus, forgiveness of sin, a restoration to holiness, resolutions to perform our duty, the effectual pursuit of salvation, and the final escape from ruin, can never be useful objects of attention and effort to him, whose mind is not settled in that state of solemnity which these mighty concerns require. The soul which is given up to levity regards them, of course, wita habitual indifference, and not unfrequently with habitual contempt. By a man of this character therefore they will be neglected and forgotten.

2. Prayer is useful to an individual, as it enlightens and quickens the conscience.

Conscience is the judgment of the mind concerning its moral conduct, both internal and external. By this judgment of the mind, we are, and of necessity must be, ultimately directed in every case of a moral nature. It is therefore of the utmost importance that it should be formed aright.

Conscience also is used both in the Scriptures, and elsewhere, with a direct reference to those emotions, or feelings, which we experience, when this judgment is formed; and which usually have more or less influence upon the formation of the judgment itself, and upon the conduct by which it is followed. When these are just and vigorous, we are not only directed, but prompted to act aright. When they are dull and lifeless, we are apt, how just soever the judgment may be, either not to act at all, or to act in direct violation of its dictates. In every such case our conduct is sinful; and often when, under the influence of a conscience more tender and susceptible, it would have been virtuous. Hence the plain necessity of having our consciences quickened, or made alive to our duty. A seared conscience' denotes, not the want of a capacity to judge, but an insensibility to the importance of moral good and evil,

Among the means placed in our power of enlightening and quickening the conscience, prayer, after the Scriptures, is in my view the first, and far superior to any other. It is also the chief mean of rendering the Scriptures themselves effectual to this end.

When we stand in our closets, immediately before God, are secluded from the world, and withdrawn from every eye but his; when we feel the awe inspired by a clear view of his character, and realize in an affecting manner his presence and inspection; it can hardly be possible for us not to entertain concerning our Creator, ourselves, and all moral objects, views exceedingly different from those gross apprehensions which we experience in ordinary circumstances. We can

hardly fail to discern our sinful character, and to regard sin as a real and great evil. God, in spite of all our ordinary stupidity, will then appear to be an awful, perfect, and glorious Being; his law to be holy, just, and good; its extent to comprehend all our thoughts and actions alike; its nature, de`mands, and penalties to be unchangeable; and ourselves to be condemned, and, if left in our present condition, to be ruined. In this situation we further discern, of course, that many things are sinful, which we have customarily regarded as innocent; and that many things are duties, to perform which we have heretofore felt little or no obligation.

These views are particularly enlarged, and rendered more

distinct, by means of our confessions and petitions. When we confess our sins before God, we are compelled to such a sincerity of thought, as well as of speech, as must induce us to throw aside a multitude of prejudices, self-justifications, and self-flatteries; usually, and very pleasingly, cherished. We know that we cannot deceive God; and are certain that even our inmost thoughts are naked to the all-seeing eye. Little inducement is presented to us, therefore, to think falsely of our conduct. So far as our views extend, they naturally become just and scriptural. In this state, every sin which we confess is apt to be seen as it is; as a sin, as a violation of the law of God, as an act of opposition to his will, and as a source to us of guilt and condemnation. The vanity strongly appears of attempting to hide our guilt from his sight; and of course the necessity, as well as the duty, of acknowledging it before him. Hence, while the confession of all our sins is forcibly prompted, the confession of each is naturally rendered sincere. Hence also the sinner sees many things to be sinful, which he has usually thought innocent, perhaps virtuous; and the whole number of his sins to be far greater than he has before mistrusted.

In our petitions we ask for the blessing of God. If we ask for forgiveness, we ask for the forgiveness of our sins; and of course discern that we have sins to be forgiven. This forgiveness is necessary for every sin. While the eye of the mind is employed in wandering with solemn anxiety over this interesting subject, and inquiring with deep solicitude what, and how numerous, are the cases in which this forgiveness is needed; it is impossible for us not to perceive that we have many, very many, sins to be forgiven.

If we ask for sanctification, we ask it for sinners, to whom this blessing is necessary. In the same character we ask for justification, for adoption, for increase of grace, and for perseverance unto the end. In a word, our guilty character will recur, and present itself before our eyes, with every petition which we make.

Nor will the necessity and excellence of holiness appear with less evidence. Sin is our ruin; holiness is our recovery. Both are alike important; the one being as dreadful, as the other is desirable. Of all the blessings for which we ask, holiness is the basis, the means, and the end. To every one of

them it inseparably adheres; with every one it is intimately blended. Our views therefore will be as naturally, and as extensively engaged by it, and be as naturally rendered clear and impressive.

As these two great attributes are the only ones which characterize our moral conduct, so the clearer and brighter our views of these things are, the more enlightened, of course, is our conscience, or the judgment of our minds concerning that conduct. When we ask God for his blessing on any thing which we are about to do, we shall in this way discern with more certainty its real nature, especially as it appears to our own view, than in any other situation. We often, as we think, convince ourselves by reasoning, that a proposed pursuit is lawful and right; when we in fact believe it to be otherwise. In most, if not all such cases, the first judgment of our minds, that which we usually denominate the decision of conscience, has already determined it to be wrong. On the future reasoning, inclination has usually had no small share of influence. and has warped the judgment of the mind so as to lead it to false conclusions. With these conclusions, however, we

are but too prone to feel satisfied.

But if we attempt to ask the blessing of God upon such conduct in our closets, we shall often find our attempts to be vain. Our mouths will be stopped, and our efforts to pray annihilated. Some persons declare, and appear to believe, that gaming is lawful and justifiable. But no one ever asked, no one can ever seriously ask, the blessing of God on a design to game. There are persons who declare lewdness to be lawful. But no person can ask God to bless a lewd purpose. An attempt of this nature would choak the utterance even of a profligate.

When we ask the same blessing on similar conduct already past, the same consequences will follow; and we shall be forced, in spite of ourselves, to acknowledge and feel the guilt of that which is sinful. Notwithstanding his utmost efforts, the sinner will be checked in all his attempts to pray, so long as he justifies, so long as he does not confess and lament his guilty conduct, however satisfied with himself he was in the perpetration. Until he becomes willing to forsake his sins, they will hinder his prayers.' Nor can he continue to sin, and continue to pray.