it, and to the unaffected contrition and unreserved allegiance of soul, of which we are lastingly conscious. That precious seal of personal redemption, which the Holy Spirit is ready to impress day by day, continually, can find no place in “the tablets of the heart," except that heart be daily softened and made receptive of the blessing by penitential prayer. Supplication for pardon cannot, by the enlightened and truly humble Christian, be felt or judged, at any period of his earthly course, to have become superfluous, or to be a mere formality. Although he has attained a peaceful hope of justification from that paternal Sovereign, before whom he long has bowed with unfeigned penitence and true conversion of soul, still, in order to maintain this state and sense of acceptance, he has ever to sue for the same inestimable gift of remission. What humble selfexamining mind will doubt that this is fit and needful, both in the review of sins long past, and of recent offences? * 66 We must renew our requests for pardon every day," says a most pious writer; "it is more necessary than to pray for our daily bread:" and again, “Who can understand his errors? Who can enumerate the many

James, iii. 2.-1 John, i. 8.

defections from that strait rule of our duty? It would tire the hand of an angel to write down the pardons that God bestows upon one penitent believer.' ""*

Nor is it only pardon, but it is the gift of the Holy Spirit; it is the inheritance of the saints; it is everlasting life, which I am about to supplicate. And by what measure can I fix in my mind the magnitude of these requests? If we had seen, in former times, a Castilian noble about to enter the Escurial, that he might solicit an appointment to the vice-royalty of Peru, should we not have expected strong marks of ambitious desire and deep concern for the issue of his suit to appear upon his brow? And yet how strikingly would such a sight exhibit the penury and fallaciousness of this world, where, while the object sought included power, wealth, and magnificence almost regal, the candidate would yet, in fact, be asking, with all the devotion of his soul, for a burden of splendid cares. When a Christian appears before the King of kings, and asks to be prepared and qualified by divine influence, for a "crown of life," it is certainly nothing resembling this earthly domination, or selfish glory, to which he aspires. His requests

*Dr. Bates.

are consistent with the deepest humility and selfrenunciation, otherwise he knows not what he asks."* The sum of his requests, when he asks aright, is, that he may be enabled perfectly to love and glorify God, and “be satisfied with his likeness," while all the praise shall redound to the infinite Giver. But he neither can, nor ought to hide from himself the vastness of these gifts, which he is encouraged and commanded to implore. He asks the Uncreated Energy to renovate and remould within him the very image of divine perfection; and to fit an heir of frailty and transgression for incorruptible and eternal joys.

It might be a weakness, excusable even in a thoughtful mind, to be somewhat dazzled by the full splendour of earthly empire; to forget, while soliciting a pardon, or a dignity, at the footstool of its loftiest possessor, that this imperial hand will soon be in the dust,—that I address only the dying tenant of a delegated power, whose successor may to-morrow reverse his pardons, revoke his donations, annul his investitures;-to forget, that even were the donor resolved to make his favours irrevocable by himself, and no less sure to survive him who obtains them, still this pardon could only

Mark, x. 38.

affect the "life which is a vapour;" these honours only extend to the days which are “as a handbreadth." To forget these truths for the moment might be a natural weakness. But how strange, when approaching "the King, the Lord of hosts,” the "only Ruler of princes," to experience an illusion precisely contrary to this; to have been dazzled by what is false and fleeting, and to be dead to what is real and eternal; and how inexcusable to yield to this illusion with a sort of supineness; to forget, without a struggle, that I address Him who is "from everlasting to everlasting;" of whom "heaven is but the throne, and earth the footstool;" who hath the "keys of Hades and of death!"

When I enter on this employment of prayer, (which, except when attended with "pomp and circumstance," many, that bear the Christian name, contemn, in their hearts, as an imbecile and superstitious observance,) I go to entreat what none but the Lord of the Universe can give, a pardon sealed with the blood of that true Victim, who was "slain from the foundation of the world;" a pardon that shall be in force when "the heavens have been folded up as a vesture," and when unnumbered ages shall have witnessed to the "heirs of promise" the faithfulness of Jehovah, and "the

D

immutability of his counsel."-I go to entreat that principle of heavenly life, which, if it be kindled and still cherished from the Sun of Righteousness, shall gloriously assimilate the soul to Him, in whom "is no darkness at all.”

And shall the sneers or the coldness of an infidel and sensual age persuade me that this is a weak or fanatical employ? Or shall the drowsiness of my own spirit degrade it into a lifeless task, an "exercise that profiteth little?"

But perhaps I plead in extenuation,—it is the frequency of the employ, which prevents my rightly feeling the importance of prayer, and the greatness of its object. Is it then thus with the children of this generation in their pursuit of wealth? They are found daily at the same desk; they return to the same details, and inquiries, and endeavours. They labour in the same routine of calculation; every accession to the grand balance excites new diligence, and makes the unremitting toil more light. The hoped-for aggregate is still in view; and all the irksome steps to its completion are forgotten. "So is he that layeth up treasure for himself." And do I, who desire the infinitely nobler attainment of being "rich towards God," "rich in faith,” rich in the treasure of immortality, do I pretend the sameness, or