WHAT IS PRAYER?

PRAYER is the soul's sincere desire,
Uttered or unexpressed;

The motion of a hidden fire,

That trembles in the breast.

Prayer is the burden of a sigh,
The falling of a tear;

The upward glancing of an eye,
When none but God is near.

Prayer is the simplest form of speech
That infant lips can try;

Prayer, the sublimest strains that reach
The Majesty on high.

Prayer is the Christian's vital breath,
The Christian's native air;
His watchword at the gates of death-
He enters heaven by prayer.

Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice,
Returning from his ways;

While angels in their songs rejoice,
Behold, he prays!"

And cry,

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The saints in prayer appear as one,
In word, and deed, and mind;
While with the Father and the Son,
Sweet fellowship they find.

Nor prayer is made on earth alone:
The Holy Spirit pleads;

And Jesus on the eternal throne
For mourners intercedes.

O Thou! by whom we come to God,
The life, the truth, the way;
The path of prayer thyself hast trod :
Lord, teach us how to pray.

As fail the waters from the deep,
As summer brooks run dry,
Man lieth down in dreamless sleep,
His life is vanity.

Man lieth down, no more to wake,
Till yonder arching sphere
Shall with a roll of thunder break,
And nature disappear.

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Oh! hide me till thy wrath be past,
Thou, who canst slay or save!
Hide me where hope may anchor fast,
In my Redeemer's grave!

JAS. MONTGOMERY.

III. OUR DUTY HERE.

"A CHRISTIAN's religion is co-extensive with his life."-Arnold.

WHAT is our duty here? To tend
From good to better-thence to best:
Grateful to drink life's cup,-then bend
Unmurmuring to our bed of rest;
To pluck the flowers that round us blow,
Scattering our fragrance as we go.

And so to live, that when the sun
Of our existence sinks in night,
Memorials sweet of mercies done

May shrine our names in memory's light;
And the blest seeds we scatter'd bloom
A hundred fold in days to come.

BOWRING.

IV. THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS.

"WITH what energy does the spring preach to us the frailty and the end of life! See how far its beauties extend! But let us not exult too much in their splendid appearance; in a few days they will return to the dust whence they came. All that brilliant race of flowers, so diversified in their forms and shades, must die in the same spring in which they were born. Thus our life vanishes away, and its longest duration may, in some sort, be compared to a day in spring. An unexpected death hurries us into the grave; while that health and strength which we enjoy, promised us a long course of years. Often sickness and death come upon us the more certainly, as their snares were disguised with the charms of health and youth. We may view in the flowers of spring an emblem of our own frailty. But though these thoughts should make us deeply serious, yet they should not rob us of those comforts which the Creator has dispensed to us in the spring of our life. The thought of death is very consistent with the enjoyment of every innocent pleasure."-Sturm.

HOPE BEYOND THE GRAVE.

THERE is a Reaper, whose name is Death,
And, with his sickle keen,

He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,
And the flowers that grow between.

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"Shall I have nought that is fair ?" saith he ;
"Have nought but the bearded grain?
"Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me,
"I will give them all back again."

He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes,
He kissed their drooping leaves;

It was for the Lord of Paradise

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He bound them in his sheaves.

My Lord hath need of these flowrets gay,"
The Reaper said, and smiled;

"Dear tokens of the earth are they,

V. HOPE BEYOND THE GRAVE.

"THERE is hope of a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that the tender branch thereof will not cease. Though the root thereof wax old in the earth, and the stock thereof die in the ground; yet, through the scent of water it will bud, and bring forth boughs like a plant. But man dieth, and wasteth away; yea, man giveth up the ghost, and where is he? As the waters fail from the sea, and the flood decayeth and drieth up; so man lieth down, and riseth not; till the heavens be no more, they shall not awake, nor be raised out of their sleep."-Job xiv. 7–13.

"Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more;

I mourn-but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you;
For morn is approaching, your charms to restore,
Perfumed with fresh fragrance, and glittering dew.
Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn;

Kind Nature the embryo blossom will save:
But when shall spring visit the mouldering urn?
O when shall it dawn on the night of the grave?
'Twas thus by the glare of false science betray'd,
That leads to bewilder, and dazzles to blind,
My thoughts wont to roam, from shade onward to shade,
Destruction before me, and sorrow behind.

"O pity, great Father of light," then I cried,

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Thy creature, who fain would not wander from thee!
Lo, humbled in dust, I relinquish my pride;

From doubt and from darkness thou only canst free."
And darkness and doubt are now flying away,
No longer I roam in conjecture forlorn:
So breaks on the traveller, faint and astray,
The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn.
See Truth, Love, and Mercy, in triumph descending,
And nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom!
On the cold cheek of death smiles and roses are blending,
And Beauty immortal awakes from the tomb!

BEATTIE.

VI. WHAT MAKES A HAPPY OLD AGE.

"REMEMBER now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them."-Eccles. xii. 1.

"I have been young, and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread."-Psalm xxxvii. 25. In the species with which we are best acquainted, namely, our own, I am far, even as an observer of human life, from thinking that youth is its happiest season, much less the only happy one: as a Christian, I am willing to believe that there is a great deal of truth in the following representation given by a very pious writer, as well as excellent man.* "To the intelligent and virtuous, old age presents a scene of tranquil enjoyment, of obedient appetite, of wellregulated affections, of maturity in knowledge, and of calm preparation for immortality. In this serene and dignified state, placed as it were on the confines of two worlds, the mind of a good man reviews what is past with the complacency of an approving conscience; and looks forward, with humble confidence in the mercy of God, and with devout aspirations towards his eternal and ever-increasing favour."Paley.

*Father's Instructions, by Dr. Percival, of Manchester.

THE WATERS OF MARAH.

"You are old, father William," the young man cried;
"The few locks that are left you are gray:

You are hale, father William, a hearty' old man ;
Now tell me the reason I pray."

"In the days of my youth," father William replied,
"I remember'd that youth would fly fast ;2
And abused not my health and my vigour at first,
That I never might need3 them at last."

"You are old, father William," the young man cried,
"And pleasures with youth pass away;

And yet you lament not the days that are gone;
Now tell me the reason I pray."

"In the days of my youth," father William replied,
"I remember'd that youth could not last;

I thought of the future, whatever I did,

That I never might grieve for the past."

"You are old, father William," the young man cried,
"And life must be hastening away;

You are cheerful, and love to converse upon death;
Now tell me the reason I pray."

"I am cheerful, young man," father William replied,
"Let the cause thy attention engage:

In the days of my youth I remember'd my God,
And he hath not forgotten my age!
e!" 4

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SOUTHEY.

3. The meaning of need here ?

4. Do you remember Wolsey's famous

VII. THE WATERS OF MARAH.

"AND Moses cried unto the Lord, and the Lord showed him a tree, which, when he had cast into the waters, the waters were made sweet."-Exodus xv. 25.