down, his countenance had regained its usual happy, calm peaceful expression." There is an example! for how often does it happen that the Christian soldier who conquers in a battle, is vanquished in a skirmish! He lays aside, for a moment, some part of his heavenly armour, and thus, defenceless, is attacked and wounded by the enemy, before he dreams that danger is `nigh. He discovers when too late, that the watchful foe ever lieth in wait to assault him; not always in open conflict, but more frequently by petty and unseen temptation.

One day, Mr. Breay received a letter, the contents of which quite made all his plans for building school-rooms for his Sunday scholars, which before had seemed to be going on prosperously, of no use. Some one, on hearing the letter read, said to him, "This is really provoking. What will you do now?" He answered, "Take care in the first place, that it does not provoke me; and in the second, wait patiently upon God, till he shall open some better way for us. With a single eye, and a single aim, I have no fears We shall have our school-rooms sometime, and the Christian's sometime, is the best time, for it is the Lord's time. This is quite sufficient for us."

even now.

One of Mr. Breay's congregation, who rested firmly on Christ, was nevertheless much tried with doubts and fears. She believed herself to be dying, and had doubts of her safety. When he entered the sick chamber, she said to him, "It is an awful thing to fall into the hands of the living God." "Gently, gently," he replied, "not awful, but fearful.” "Oh," said the sick person, "I never can be saved." "Stop," said Mr. B., "give me your text. I can do nothing without a text. Find me a text where Jesus says, that he will not save sinners." Then, silently leaning back in his chair, he appeared to be engaged in prayer. a while, the poor sufferer exclaimed, "There is not one. God, not one," repeated Mr. B., "the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin," and having offered up a prayer, he left her calm and peaceful.

EXTRACT.

"

"After

"Thank

A mere professor of religion is like a butterfly, all surface. If the breath of heaven breathe upon it, it is driven hither and thither; but the Christian is like the dove, a strong pinioned bird. She may meet the thunderstorm in her course, but she is deter

mined to persevere. She will tack about, and tack about, and give even the winds and tempests to know that she has a nest that it is her home-that her heart is there, and she must reach it.

LINES ON MARK xvi. 3, 4.

"And they said among themselves; Who shall roll us away the stone from the door of the sepulchre? And when they looked, they saw the stone was rolled away: for it was very great."

"Oh, who will roll away the stone?"
Such was the once despairing tone
Of the two Marys, journeying on
To where their Saviour lay:

Near and more near they come and now,
Their heads with wonder bow,

And humble gratitude—for, lo!

The stone was rolled away.

Mark this, ye trembling souls, and weak,
Ye who are early brought to seek
In ardent love, submission meek,
Your Lord at dawn of day;
Deem not his love will e'er abate,
His aid will ever come too late:
The stone was great-yes, "
very great,"
But still 'twas "rolled away."

If in Jesus' train attend,
you

If love to him your footsteps bend,
His glory all your aim and end,

He'll bear you safely through.
Those clouds you in the distance fear,
Will as your trembling step draws near,
Like phantoms of a dream appear,
As light, as transient too.

Rest in a Father's providence;
Mistrust the feeble dreams of sense;
And in calm, holy confidence,

Go forth, your Lord to meet:

And though the stone should still be there,
Yield not to doubt or to despair;
He will be near the task to share,
And make your labour sweet.

Though for a time we all must rest,
Within our common mother's breast,
While the pale funeral stone is prest
Above our mouldering clay:

One bright, one glorious day shall come,
When each frail tenant of the tomb

Shall hear a voice to call him home,
And roll away each stone.

ISAIAH lxiii. 1.

L. Y.

"Who is this that cometh from Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah?"

Sinner, sinner, list to me,

Once, I serv'd the world like thee;

Once, with heedless steps I trod

The path that leads from heav'n and God;

In desperate madness filling high

The cup of my iniquity.

But the time of trouble came,
Conscience rous'd the slumb'ring_flame,
Justice wav'd her glitt'ring sword,
And pointed to God's slighted word;
And the worm that never dies"
Gave foretaste of his agonies.

Then in my grief, I cursed the light,
And call'd on thickest shades of night
To hide me, from the searching eye
Of God's offended majesty;

And I had died, and perished there,
O'erwhelm'd in darkness and despair;
But one came by with wounded side,
And royal garments, deeply dyed:
From Bozrah's cloudy vale he came,
His eyes were like the fiery flame;
His voice in depth and majesty,
Like many waters rushing by.

He breath'd upon me, and I woke,
He touch'd me, and my fetters broke;
The burthen which had bow'd me down,
He took, and claim'd it as his own;
He gave, as bond, his royal word,
And justice sheath'd her dreadful sword.

And do I live-and shall not I
Proclaim his glorious clemency?
Shall not I tell to every one

What Jesus for my soul hath done?

Yes, whilst the pulse of being plays,

And I have pow'r to breathe his praise.

W. P.

ARTHUR FOSTER, PRINTER, KIRKBY LONSDALE.

FRIENDLY VISITOR.

No. 272.1

MAY, 1841.

[VOL. 23.

THE SPIRIT OF PRAYER.

The Spirit of Christ is a spirit of prayer. True holiness will not only possess this spirit, but manifest it. The frequency and the fervency of his supplications will be the guage of a believer's love to Christ and to souls.

If men do not possess the Spirit of Christ, they will not pray; or if they engage in the form, they will be destitute of the power of godliness. If they possess but little of that Spirit, their prayers will be dull, formal, and useless. If the love of Christ glow in the heart, there will be a free outpouring of the soul at the mercy-seat, in the effectual, fervent prayer of the righteous, which availeth much.

The connection between prayer and the bestowment of spiritual blessings is sure. God himself has established this connection. He calls upon his people to ask, and he promises that it shall be given. We must give him no rest. We must wrestle, agonize, persevere at the throne of grace. Our prayers must be intensely importunate. If the blessing delay, it must be the signal for renewed zeal and energy. God loves to see his people cling to the promises with a faith and tenacity, which seem to say, "We will not let thee go, except thou bless us." They carry to the mercy-seat the all-prevailing name of Jesus. With this passport to the throne, we may be bold and importunate, though we should ever be humble.

When God is about to give a Christian the light of his countenance, that Christian is first called to the throne of grace. He is brought low at the mercy-seat. A spirit of prayer comes over him. He wrestles, and prevails.

When a church or community is nigh to one of those

F

gracious visitations of the Spirit, by which saints are comforted and sinners are awakened, what a reviving of the spirit of prayer precedes the glorious event! 'The forsaken closet is revisited with tears and cries. Confessions of backsliding are made. Social prayer is marked by a united and powerful application to the throne of grace. Christians agonize for the souls of

men.

Look at the mass of professors. Go to their closets. How seldom are those closets visited! How soon are they forsaken! What wandering thoughts! cold and heartless petitions!

What

The fire upon the altar, instead of being kept burning, is left to smoulder and die.

The poor, perishing heathen-the crowded ranks of the careless in our own land, are seldom, I fear, brought in agonizing prayer at the private altar. The soul beats not with those intense desires and longings for the redemption of a lost world, which marks the elevated and ardent Spirit of Christ.

We pray, too often, as if the universe contained no other being but ourself. There is a selfish, contracted scale of supplications, which reaches but little beyond our own domestic circle. Within even these limits, our prayers are often too cold to produce any good influence.

Is this manifesting the Spirit of our Master? He died for a world. His supplications embraced all, of every class and condition. Those who did the will of God were his acknowledged kindred; and those who needed his mercy, whatever their character, and wherever they might dwell, were the objects of his kind regard.

Believer, thou must manifest the same spirit. Thy views must be enlarged. Thy soul must expand, until it shall receive within its sympathies the wretched of every land.

I

Our interest is centered too much in ourselves. verily believe, that, were it to become general for believers to live for the good of others--to pray earnestly