beginning of almost every good habit is difficult The most of those who make this apology, presume on their inability. They say they cannot before they have tried. But until they have tried, they do not know whether they can or not. What if some have tried once and failed. One failure should not dishearten them, nor two, nor even twenty. Demosthenes tried speaking many times before he became an orator. Besides, how do those who presume on their inability to conduct family worship, know what assistance they might receive from God, if they were to make an humble and faithful experiment.

If any one shall condescend to read this, who does not pray in his family, I advise him to commence immediately. He knows that he will never be sorry for it, if he does; but he is not so sure that he may not be sorry for it if he does not. If there were no other reason in favor of the practice, this alone would be sufficient. I think it is Jay who says that a family without prayer is like a house without a roof— it has no protection. Who would like to live in such a house?

3. I must Pray more.

I habitually feel this necessity, but the other day the conviction came to my mind with strange power,

and I said with greater emphasis than ever, I must pray more. It struck me with indescribable wonder that so little time should be employed, and so little energy expended in prayer, even by those who are prompt to acknowledge its dignity as a privilege, and its efficacy as a means of obtaining good. It is not now as it was in patriarchal times. We do not pray as Jacob did. He wrestled until the breaking of the day. Yes, his praying was wrestling, and it lasted all night. We put forth no such power in prayer, and we do not allow the repose of our nights to be inter rupted by it. It is not because our wants are all supplied that we are so feeble and brief in prayer-nor is it that God's bounty is exhausted. We are as poor as creatures ever were, and He as rich and munificent as ever. His hand is not shortened, neither his ear heavy.

Only think how small a portion of each successive day is spent in prayer. I wonder if any Christian ever thought of it without being so dissatisfied as to resolve that he would spend more time in prayer the next day. Just add together the minutes you daily occupy in supplication, and the kindred exercises of devotion, scriptural reading and meditation, and see to what it will amount. Will the sum total be one hour? What ! less than an hour a day in devotion ?—not one twenty-fourth part of time! And is this all which can be afforded? Let us see. How much time has business? Could not a little be saved

from business for prayer? Do you not give an hour or two more to business every day than it absolutely requires? Then how much time has sleep for the refreshment of the body? Might not some little time be redeemed from sleep and spent in prayer, with more profit to the whole man than if it were given to repose? Would not the soul thereby obtain a rest, which would most favorably react on the body? I do not believe that the Psalmist suffered any thing in the day for the hours of night he spent in communing on his bed with his own heart and with God. I do not believe that even tired nature" had any reason to complain of that interruption of the repose due to her. I suspect he enjoyed as good health, and was as vigorous through the day as we, though he rose at midnight to give thanks unto God, and prevented the dawning of the morning with his prayer. Such interruptions of sleep are no loss even to the body. I am sure, and I think no one can doubt, that considerably more time might be afforded for prayer than is actually given to it. If we take none from business and none from sleep, yet could not some be spared from the table, or conversation, which is not always the most profitable? Perhaps some of us spend more time in barely receiving the body's nourishment, than we do in the entire care of the soul! But not to dwell to tediousness on this topic. You have only to look back on a day, to perceive how much of it might have been prayer and

spent in

devotion without interfering with any thing which ought not to be interfered with.

Seeing then that we can pray more that time can be afforded for it, I am amazed that we do not pray more. If prayer was nothing but a duty, we ought to pray more. We do not pray enough to discharge the mere obligation of prayer. We are commanded to pray more than we do, aye, to pray "without ceasing." But prayer, while it is a duty, is rather to be viewed by us in the light of a privilege. And O it is such a privilege! What a favor that we may petition God and ask of him eternal life, with the confidence that we shall not ask in vain! How strange it is that we no more value and exercise this privilege of prayer! It is astonishing that the sense of want, or the desire of happiness, does not carry us oftener to the throne of grace, and that we should ever require to be incited to prayer by the stimulus of conscience. Oh! I wonder that we do not oftener go in unto the King, whose gracious sceptre is ever extended towards us-I wonder we have not more frequent and longer interviews with our heavenly Father. It is strange we do not pray more, when prayer is the easiest way of obtaining good. What is so easy as to ask for what we want? How could we receive blessings on cheaper terms? Surely it is easier than to labor, and less expensive than to buy. It may be hard to the spirit to ask of men. To beg of them you may be ashamed. But no such

feeling should keep you aloof from God. He giveth and upbraideth not.

But prayer is not merely the easiest way of obtaining good. It is the only way of obtaining the greatest of all good. The subordinate necessaries of life we get by labor or purchase; but the things we most need are given in answer to prayer. The one thing needful is a divine donation. We ask, and receive it. Now we labor much. Why do we not pray more? Do we seek a profitable employment? None is so profitable as prayer. No labor makes so large a return. If you have an unoccupied hour-and you have many, or might have-by redeeming time, you cannot employ it in any way that shall tell so favorably on your interests as by filling it up with petitions to God. Yet when we have such an hour, how apt we are to spend it in unprofitable intercourse with our fellows, rather than in communion with God. It is wonderful that we talk so much, when "the talk of the lips tendeth only to penury," and pray so little, when prayer "brings a quick return of blessings in variety."

Is there any thing attended by a purer pleasure than prayer? One who knew, said, "It is good for me to draw near to God"-and again, "It is good to sing praises unto our God: for it is pleasant, and praise is comely." All the exercises of devotion are as full of pleasure as they are abundant in profit.

But prayer is not only a means of getting good.