 Chapter 3 of Practical Religion, by J. C. Ryle. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Reality Reprobate Silver, Jeremiah, 6, 30 Nothing but leaves, Mark 11, 13. Let us not love in word, neither in tongue, but in deed and in truth, 1 John 3, 18. It has to name that thou livest in art dead. Revelations 3, 1 If we profess to have any religion at all, let us take care that it is real. I say it emphatically, and I repeat the same. Let us mind that our religion is real. What do I mean when I use the word real? I mean that which is genuine, and sincere, and honest, and thorough. I mean that which is not base, and hollow, and formal, and false, and counterfeit, and sham, and nominal. Real religion is not mere show, and pretense, and skin-deep feeling, and temporary profession, and outside work. It is something inward, solid, substantial, intrinsic, living lasting. We know the difference between base, coin, and good money. Between solid gold and tinsel. Between plated metal and silver. Between real stone and plaster imitation. Let us think of these things as we consider the subject of this paper. What is the character of our religion? Is it real? It may be weak and feeble and mingled with many infirmities. That is not the point before us today. Is our religion real? Is it true? The times in which we live demand attention to this subject. A want of reality is a striking feature of a vast amount of religion in the present day. Poets have sometimes told us that the world has passed through four different stages, or conditions. We have had a golden age, and a silver age, a brazen age, and an iron age. How far this is true I do not stop to inquire, but I fear there is little doubt as to the character of the age in which we live. It is universally an age of base, metal, and alloy. If we measure the religion of the age by its apparent quantity, there is much of it. But if we measure it by its quality, there is very little indeed. On every side we want more reality. I ask attention. While I try to bring home to men's consciences the question of this paper. There are two things which I propose to do. 1. In the first place, I will show the importance of reality in religion. 2. In the second place, I will supply some tests by which we may prove whether our own religion is real. Has any reader of this paper the least desire to go to heaven when he dies? Do you wish to have a religion which will comfort you in life, give you good hope in death, and abide the judgment of God at the last day? Then do not turn away from the subject before you. Sit down and consider calmly whether your Christianity is real and true or base and hollow. 1. I have to show the importance of reality in religion. The point is one which, at first sight, may seem to require very few remarks to establish it. All men, I shall be told, are fully convinced of the importance of reality. But is it true? Can it be said indeed that reality is rightly esteemed among Christians? I deny it entirely. The greater part of people who profess to admire reality seem to think that everyone possesses it. They tell us that all have got good hearts at bottom. That all are sincere and true in the main, though they may make mistakes. They call us uncharitable and harsh and sensorious, if we doubt anybody's goodness of heart. In short, they destroy the value of reality by regarding it as a thing which almost everyone has. This widespread delusion is precisely one of the causes why I take up this subject. I want men to understand that reality is a far more rare and uncommon thing than is commonly supposed. I want men to see that unreality is one of the great dangers of which Christians ought to be aware. Let's say at the scripture, this is the only judge that can try the subject. Let us turn our Bibles and examine them fairly, and then deny, if we can, the importance of reality in religion and the danger of not being real. 1. Let us look then for one thing at the parable spoken by our Lord Jesus Christ. Observe how many of them are intended to put in strong contrast the true believer and the mere nominal disciple. The parables of the sower, of the wheat and tares, of the draw net, of the two sons, of the wedding garment, of the ten virgins, of the talents, of the great supper, of the pounds, of the two builders, have all one great point in common. They all bring out in striking colors the difference between reality and unreality in religion. They all show the uselessness and danger of any Christianity which is not real, thorough and true. 2. Let us look for another thing at the language of our Lord Jesus Christ about the scribes and the Pharisees. Eight times over in one chapter we find him denouncing them as hypocrites. In words of almost fearful severity, ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, he says. How can ye escape the damnation of hell? Matthew 23, 33. What may we learn from these tremendously strong expressions? How is it that our gracious and merciful Savior used such cutting words about people who at any rate were more moral and decent than the publicans in harlots? It is meant to teach us the exceeding abominableness of false profession and mere outward religion in God's sight. Open prolificacy and willful obedience to fleshly lusts are no doubt ruinous sins, if not given up. But there seems nothing which is so displeasing to Christ as hypocrisy and unreality. 3. Let us look for another thing at the startling fact that there is hardly a grace in the character of a true Christian of which you will not find a counterfeit described in the Word of God. There is not a feature in a believer's countenance of which there is not an imitation. Give me your attention, and I will show you this in a few particulars. Is there not an unreal repentance? Beyond doubt there is. Saul and Ahab, Herod and Judas Iscariot had many feelings of sorrow about sin, but they never really repented unto salvation. Is there not an unreal faith? Beyond doubt there is. It is written of Simon Magus at Samaria that he believed, and yet his heart was not right in the sight of God. It is even written of the devils that they believe and tremble. Acts 3, 13 and James 2, 19. Is there not an unreal holiness? Beyond doubt there is. Joash, king of Judah, became to all appearance very holy and good, so long as Jihadiah the priest lived, but as soon as he died, the religion of Joash died at the same time. Judas Iscariot's outward life was as correct as that of any of the apostles up to the time that he betrayed his master. There was nothing suspicious about him, yet in reality he was a thief and a traitor. John 12, 6. Is there not an unreal love and charity? Beyond doubt there is. There is a love which consists in words and tender expressions, and a great show of affection, and calling other people, dear brethren, while the heart does not love at all. It is not for nothing that St. John says, let us not love in word, neither in tongue, but indeed and in truth. It was not without cause that St. Paul said, let love be without dissimulation. 1 John 3, 18, Romans 12, 19. Is there not an unreal humility? Beyond doubt there is. There is a pretended lowliness of demeanor, which often covers over a very proud heart. St. Paul warns us against a voluntary humility, and speaks of things which had a show of wisdom in will-worship and humility. Colossians 2, 18, 23. Is there not unreal praying? Beyond doubt there is. Our Lord denounces it as one of the special sins of the Pharisees, that for a pretense they made long prayers. Matthew 23, 14. He does not charge them with not praying, or with praying too shortly. Their sin lay in this, that their prayers were not real. Is there not unreal worship? Beyond doubt there is. Our Lord says of the Jews, this people draw nigh to me with their mouths, and honor me with their lips, but their heart is far from me. Matthew 15, 18. They had plenty of formal services in their temples and their synagogues, but the fatal defect about them was one of reality and want of heart. Is there not unreal talking about religion? Beyond doubt there is. Ezekiel describes some professing Jews who talked and spoke like God's people, while their hearts went after their covetousness. Ezekiel 33, 31. St. Paul tells us that we may speak with tongue of men and angels, and yet be no better than sounding brass in the tinkling symbol. 1 Corinthians 13, 1. What shall we say to these things? To say the least, they ought to set us thinking. To my own mind, they seem to lead to only one conclusion. They show clearly the immense importance which scripture attaches to reality in religion. They show clearly what need we have to take heed lest our Christianity turn out to be merely nominal, formal, unreal, and base. The subject is of deep importance in every age. There has never been a time, since the Church of Christ was founded, when there has not been a vast amount of unreality and mere nominal religion among professing Christians. I am sure it is the case in the present day. Wherever I turn my eyes, I see abundant cause for the warning. Beware of base metal in religion. Be genuine. Be thorough. Be real. Be true. How much religion among some members of the Church of England consists of nothing but churchmanship. They belong to the established Church. They are baptized at her fonts, married at her communion rails, buried in her church yards, preached to on Sundays by her ministers. But the great doctrines laid down in her articles and liturgy have no place in their hearts, and no influence on their lives. They neither think, nor feel, nor care, nor know anything about them. And is the religion of these people real Christianity? It is nothing of the kind. It is mere base metal. It is not the Christianity of Peter, and James, and John, and Paul. It is Churchianity, and no more. How much religion among some dissenters from the Church of England consists of nothing but dissent. They pride themselves on having nothing to do with the establishment. They rejoice in having no liturgy, no forms, no bishops. They glory in the exercise of their private judgment, and the absence of everything like ceremonial in their public worship. But all this time they neither have grace, nor faith, nor repentance, nor holiness, nor spirituality of conduct or conversation. The experimental and practical piety of the old nonconformist is a thing of which they are utterly destitute. Their Christianity is as sapless and fruitless as a dead tree, and as dry and merrilous as an old bone. And is the Christianity of these people real? It is nothing of the kind. It is base metal. It is not the Christianity of Owen, and Manton, and Goodwin, and Baxter, and Trail. It is dissentianity, and nothing more. How much ritualistic religion is utterly unreal? You will sometimes see men boiling over with zeal about vestments, and gestures and postures, and church decorations, and daily service, and frequent communions, while their hearts are manifestly in the world, of the inward work of the Holy Ghost, of living faith in the Lord Jesus, of delight in the Bible and religious conversation, of separation from worldly follies and amusements, of zeal for the conversion of souls to God, of all these things they are profoundly ignorant, and is such Christianity as this real? It is nothing of the kind. It is a mere name. How much evangelical religion is completely unreal? You will sometimes see men professing great affection for the pure Gospel, while they are practically inflicting on it the greatest injury. They will talk loudly of soundness in the faith, and have a keen nose for heresy. They will run eagerly after popular preachers, and applaud Protestant speakers at public meetings to the very echo. They are familiar with all the phrases of evangelical religion, and can converse fluently about its leading doctrines. To see their faces at public meetings or in church, you would think them imminently godly. To hear them talk, you would suppose their lives were bound up in religious societies. The record, or rock newspapers, and Exeter Hall, and yet these people in private will sometimes do things of which even some heathens would be ashamed. They are neither truthful nor straightforward, nor honest nor manly, nor just nor good-tempered, nor unselfish, nor merciful, nor humble nor kind. And is such Christianity as this real? It is not. It is a miserable imposture, a base cheat and caricature. How many revivalists' religion, in the present day, is utterly unreal. You will find a crowd of false professors bringing discredit on the work of God wherever the Holy Spirit is poured out. You will see a mixed multitude of Egyptians accompanying the Israel of God, and doing it harm whenever Israel goes out of Egypt. How many nowadays will profess to be suddenly convinced of sin, to find peace in Jesus, to be overwhelmed with joys and ecstasies of soul, while in reality they have no grace at all, like the stoning ground hears they endure but for a season, and the time of temptation they fall away. Luke 8.13. As soon as the first excitement is passed off, they return to their old ways, and resume their former sins. Their religion is like Jonah's gourd, which came up in a night and perished in a night. They have neither root nor vitality. They only injure God's cause and give occasion to God's enemies to blaspheme. And is Christianity like this real? It is nothing of the kind. It is base metal from the devil's ment, and is worthless in God's sight. I write these things with sorrow. I have no desire to bring any section of the Church of Christ into contempt. I have no wish to cast any slur on any movement which begins with the Spirit of God. But the times demand very plain speaking about some points in the prevailing Christianity of our day. In one point, I am quite persuaded that demand's attention is the abounding want of reality which is to be seen on every side. No reader, at any rate, can well deny that the subject of the paper before him is of vast importance. 2. I pass on now to the second thing which I propose to do. I will supply some tests by which we may try the reality of our religion. In approaching this part of my subject, I ask every reader of this paper to dear fairly, honestly, and reasonably, with his soul. Dismiss from your mind the common idea that of course all is right if you go to church or to chapel. Cast away such vain notions forever. You must look further, higher, deeper than this. If you would find out the truth, listen to me, and I will give you a few hints. Believe me, it is no light matter. It is your life. 1. For one thing, if you would know whether your religion is real, try it by the place which it occupies in your inner man. It is not enough that it is in your head. You may know the truth, and assent to the truth, and believe the truth, and yet be wrong in God's sight. It is not enough that it is on your lips. You may repeat the creed daily. You may say amen to public prayer in church, and yet have nothing more than an outward religion. It is not enough that it is in your feelings. You may weep under preaching one day, and be lifted to the third heaven by joyous excitement another day, and yet be dead to God. Your religion, if it is real, and given by the Holy Ghost, must be in your heart. It must occupy the citadel. It must hold the reins. It must sway the affections. It must lead the will. It must direct the tastes. It must influence the choices and decisions. It must fill the deepest, lowest, inmost seat in your soul. Is this your religion? If not, you may well doubt whether it is real and true. Acts 821. Romans 10. 2. In the next place, if you would know whether your religion is real, try it by the feelings towards sin which it produces. The Christianity which is from the Holy Ghost will always have a very deep view of the sinfulness of sin. It will not merely regard sin as a blemish and misfortune which makes men and women objects of pity and compassion. It will see in sin the abominable thing which God hates, the thing which makes man guilty and lost in his maker's sight, the thing which deserves God's wrath and condemnation. It will look on sin as the cause of all sorrow and unhappiness, of strife and wars, of quarrels and contentions, of sickness and death, the blight which has blighted God's fair creation, the cursed thing which makes the whole earth grown in travail and pain. Above all, it will see in sin the thing which will ruin us eternally, except we can find a ransom. Lead us captive, except we can get its chains broken, and destroy our happiness, both here and hereafter, except we fight against it, even unto death. Is this your religion? Are these your feelings about sin? If not, you may well doubt whether your religion is real. For another thing, if you would know whether your religion is real, try it by the feelings towards Christ which it produces. Nominal religion may believe that such a person as Christ existed, and was a great benefactor to mankind. It may show him some external respect, attend his outward ordinances, and bow the head at his name, but it will go no further. Real religion will make a man glory in Christ as the Redeemer, the Deliverer, the Priest, the Friend, without whom he would have no hope at all. It will produce confidence in him, love towards him, delight in him, comfort in him, as the mediator, the food, the light, the life, the peace of the soul. Is this your religion? Do you know anything of feelings like these toward Jesus Christ? If not, you may well doubt whether your religion is real. For another thing, if you would know whether your religion is real, try it by the fruit it bears in your heart and life. The Christianity which is from above will always be known by its fruits. It will produce in the man who has it repentance, faith, hope, charity, humility, spirituality, kind temper, self-denial, unselfishness, forgiveness, temperance, truthfulness, brotherly kindness, patience, forbearance. The degree in which these various graces appear may vary in different believers. The German seeds of them will be found in all who are the children of God. By their fruits they may be known. Is this your religion? If not, you may well doubt whether it is real. Five, in the last place, if you would know whether your religion is real, try it by your feelings and habits about means of grace. Prove it by the Sundays. Is that day a season of weariness and constraint, or a delight in a refreshment, and a sweet foretaste of the rest to come in heaven? Prove it by the public means of grace. What are your feelings about public prayer and public praise, about the public preaching of God's word and the administration of the Lord's Supper? Are they things to which you give a cold ascent and tolerate them as proper and correct? Or are they things in which you take pleasure and without which you could not live happy? Prove it. Finally, by your feelings about private means of grace, do you find it essential to your comfort to read the Bible regularly in private and to speak to God in prayer? Or do you find these practices irksome and either slur them over or neglect them altogether? These questions deserve your attention. If means of grace, whether public or private, are not as necessary to your soul as meat and drink are to your body, you may well doubt whether your religion is real. I press on the attention of all my readers to the five points which I have just named. There is nothing like coming to particulars about these matters. If you would know whether your religion is real, genuine, and true, measure it by the five particulars which I have now named. Measure it fairly, test it honestly. If your heart is right in the sight of God, you have no cause to flinch from examination. If it is wrong, the sooner you find it out, the better. And now I have done what I propose to do. I have shown from Scripture the unspeakable importance of reality and religion, and the danger in which many stand to being lost forever, for want of it. I have given five plain tests by which a man may find out whether his Christianity is real. I will conclude all by a direct application of the whole subject to the souls of all who read this paper. I will draw my bow out of venture, and trust that God will bring an arrow home to the hearts and consciences of many. 1. My first word of application shall be an inquiry. Is your own religion real or unreal, genuine or base? I do not ask what you think about others. Perhaps you may see many hypocrites around you. You may be able to point to many who have no reality at all. This is not the question. You may be right in your opinion about others, but I want to know about yourself. Is your own Christianity real and true or nominal and base? If you love life, do not turn away from the question which is now before you. The time must come when the whole truth will be known. The judgment day will reveal every man's religion of what sort it is. The parable of the wedding garment will receive an awful fulfillment. Surely it is a thousand times better to find out now your condition, and to repent, than to find it out too late in the next world, when there will be no space for repentance. If you have common prudence, sense, and judgment, consider what I say. Sit down quietly this day and examine yourself. Find out the real character of your religion. With the Bible in your hand and honesty in your heart, the thing may be known. Then resolve to find it out too. My second word of application shall be a warning. I address it to all who know in their own consciences that their religion is not real. I ask them to remember the greatness of their danger and their exceeding guilt in the side of God. An unreal Christianity is especially offensive to that great God with whom we have to do. He is continually spoken of in Scripture as the God of truth. Truth is peculiarly one of his attributes. Can you doubt for a moment that he abhors everything that is not genuine and true? Better, I firmly believe, to be found an ignorant heathen at the last day than to be found with nothing better than a nominal religion. If your religion is of this sort, beware. An unreal Christianity is sure to fail a man at last. It will wear out. It will break down. It will leave its possessor like a wreck on a sandbank, high and dry, and forsaken by the tide. It will supply no comfort in the hour when comfort is most needed. In the time of affliction and on the bed of death, if you want a religion to be of any use to your soul, beware of unreality. If you would not be comfortless in death and hopeless in the judgment day, be genuine, be real, be true. Three. My third word of application shall be advice. I offer it to all who feel pricked in conscience by the subject of this paper. I advise them to cease from all trifling and playing with religion, and to become honest, thoroughgoing, wholehearted followers of the Lord Jesus Christ. Apply without delay to the Lord Jesus, and ask Him to become your Savior, your physician, your priest, and your friend. Let not the thought of your unworthiness keep you away. Let not the recollection of your sins prevent your application. Never, never forget that Christ can cleanse you from any quantity of sins if you only commit your soul to Him. But one thing He does ask of those who come to Him, He asks them to be real, honest, and true. Let reality be one great mark of your approach to Christ, and there is everything to give you hope. Your repentance may be feeble, but let it be real. Your faith may be weak, but let it be real. Your desires after holiness may be mingled with much infirmity, but let them be real. Let there be nothing of reserve, of double dealing, of part-acting of dishonesty, of sham, of counterfeit, in your Christianity. Never be content to wear a cloak of religion. Be all that you profess. Though you may err, be real. Though you may stumble, be true. Keep this principle continually before your eyes, and it will be well with your soul throughout your journey, from grace to glory. 4. My last word of application shall be encouragement. I address it to all who have manfully taken up the cross and are honestly following Christ. I exhort them to persevere and not to be moved by difficulties in opposition. You may often find few with you, and many against you. You may often hear hard things out of you. You may often be told that you go too far, and that you are too extreme. He did not. Turn a deaf ear to remarks of this kind. Press on. If there is anything which a man ought to do thoroughly, really, truly, honestly, and with all his heart, it is the business of his soul. If there is any work which he ought never to slur over and do in a slovenly fashion, it is the great work of working out his own salvation. Philippians 2.12. Believer in Christ, remember this. Whatever you do in religion, do it well. Be real. Be thorough. Be honest. Be true. If there is anything in the world of which a man need not be ashamed, it is the service of Jesus Christ, of sin, of worldliness, of levity, of trifling, of time wasting, of pleasure seeking, of bad temper, of pride, of making an idol of money, dress, dancing, hunting, shooting, card playing, novel reading, and the like. Of all this a man may well be ashamed. Living after this fashion he makes the angels sorrow, and the devils rejoice. But of living for his soul, caring for his soul, thinking of his soul, providing for his soul, making his soul salvation the principal and chief thing in his daily life, of all this a man has no cause to be ashamed at all. Believer in Christ, remember this. Remember in your Bible reading and your private praying. Remember it on your Sabbaths, remember it in your worship of God, and all these things never be ashamed of being wholehearted, real, thorough, and true. The years of our life are fast passing away. Who can tell but that he may be called this very year to meet his God? As ever you would be found ready. Be a real and true Christian. Do not be base metal. The time is fast coming when nothing but reality will stand the fire. Real repentance towards God, real faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ, real holiness of heart and life, these, these are the things which will alone pass current at the last day. It is a solemn saying of our Lord Jesus Christ. Many shall say in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name, and in thy name have cast out devils, and in thy name done many wonderful works? And then will I profess to them, I never knew you. Depart from me ye that work iniquity. Matthew 7 22 23 End of Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Of Practical Religion by J. C. Ryle This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Prayer Part 1 Men ought always to pray Luke 18 1 I will that men pray everywhere 1 Timothy 2 8 Prayer is the most important subject in Practical Religion. All other subjects are second to it. Reading the Bible, keeping the Sabbath, hearing sermons, attending public worship, going to the Lord's Table. All these are very weighty matters, but none of them are so important as prayer. I propose in this paper to offer seven plain reasons why I use such strong language about prayer. I invite to these reasons the attention of every thinking man into whose hands this paper may fall. I venture to assert, with confidence, that they deserve serious consideration. 1 In the first place, prayer is absolutely needful to a man's salvation. I say absolutely needful, and I say so advisedly. I am not speaking now of infants and idiots. I am not settling the state of the heathen. I remember that where little is given, there little will be required. I speak especially of those who call themselves Christians, in a land like our own. And of such I say no man or woman can expect to be saved who does not pray. I hold salvation by grace as strongly as anyone. I would gladly offer a free and full pardon to the greatest sinner that ever lived. I would not hesitate to stand by his dying bed, and say, believe on the Lord Jesus Christ even now, and you shall be saved. But that a man can have salvation without asking for it, I cannot see in the Bible. That a man will receive pardon of his sins, who will not so much as lift of his heart inwardly, and say, Lord Jesus, give it to me. This I cannot find. I can find that nobody will be saved by his prayers. But I cannot find that without prayer anybody will be saved. It is not absolutely needful to salvation that a man should read the Bible. A man may have no learning, or be blind, or yet have Christ in his heart. It is not absolutely needful that a man should hear the public preaching of the Gospel. He may live where the Gospel is not preached, or he may be bedridden or deaf. But the same thing cannot be said about prayer. It is absolutely needful to salvation that a man should pray. There is no royal road either to health or learning. Princes and kings, poor men and peasants, all alike must attend to the wants of their own bodies and their own minds. No man can eat, drink, or sleep by proxy. No man can get the alphabet learned for him by another. All these are things which everybody must do for himself, or they will not be done at all. Just as it is with the mind and body, so it is with the soul. There are certain things absolutely needful to the soul's health and well-being. Each one must attend to these things for himself. Each must repent for himself. Each must apply to Christ for himself. And for himself, each one must speak to God and pray. You must do it for yourself. For by nobody else can it be done. How can we expect to be saved by an unknowing God? And how can we know God without prayer? We know nothing of men and women in this world, unless we speak with Him. We cannot know God in Christ unless we speak to Him in prayer. If we wish to be with Him in heaven, we must be His friends on earth. If we wish to be His friends on earth, we must pray. There will be many at Christ's right hand in the last day. The saints gathered from north and south and east and west will be a multitude that no man can number. Revelations 7.9. The song of victory that will burst from their mouths, when their redemption is at length complete, will be a glorious song indeed. It will be far above the noise of many waters and of many thunders. But there will be no discord in that song. They that sing will sing with one heart as well as one voice. Their experience will be one and the same. All will have believed, all will have been washed in the blood of Christ, all will have been born again, all will have prayed. Yes, we must pray on earth, or we shall never praise in heaven. We must go through the school of prayer, or we shall never be fit for the holiday of praise. In short, to be prayerless is to be without God, without Christ, without grace, without hope, and without heaven. It is to be in the road to hell. 2. In the second place, a habit of prayer is one of the surest marks of a true Christian. All the children of God on earth are alike in this respect. From the moment there is any life and reality about their religion, they pray. Just as the first sign of life in an infant when born into the world is the act of breathing, so the first act of men and women when they are born again is praying. This is one of the common marks of all the elect of God. They cry unto him day and night, Luke 18.1. The Holy Spirit who makes them new creatures works in them the feeling of adoption, and makes them cry, Abba Father, Romans 8.15. The Lord Jesus, when he quickens them, gives them a voice and a tongue, and says to them, Be dumb no more. God has no dumb children. It is as much a part of their new nature to pray as it is of a child to cry. They see their need of mercy and grace. They feel their emptiness and weakness. They cannot do otherwise than they do. They must pray. I have looked carefully over the lives of God's saints in the Bible. I cannot find one of whose history much has told us, from Genesis to Revelation, who was not a man of prayer. I find it mentioned as a characteristic of the godly, that they call on the Father, that they call on the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. I find it recorded as a characteristic of the wicked, that they call not upon the Lord. I have read the lives of many imminent Christians who have been on earth since the Bible days. Some of them, I see, were rich and some poor. Some were learned and some unlearned. Some of them were Episcopalians. Some Presbyterians. Some Baptists. Some Independents. Some were Calvinists and some Arminians. Some have loved to use a liturgy and some to use none. But one thing I see, they all had in common. They have all been men of prayer. I study the reports of missionary societies in our own times. I see with joy that heathen men and women are receiving the gospel in various parts of the globe. There are conversions in Africa, in New Zealand, in Hindustan, in America. The people converted are naturally unlike one another in every respect. But one striking thing I observe at all the missionary stations, the converted people always pray. I do not deny that a man may pray without a heart and without sincerity. I do not for a moment pretend to say that the mere fact of a person praying proves everything about his soul. As in every other part of religion, so also in this, there is plenty of deception and hypocrisy. But this I do say, that no praying is a clear proof that a man is not yet a true Christian. He cannot really feel his sins. He cannot love God. He cannot feel himself a debtor to Christ. He cannot long after holiness. He cannot desire heaven. He has yet to be born again. He has yet to be made a new creature. He may boast confidently of election, grace, faith, hope, and knowledge, and deceive ignorant people. But you may rest assured it is all vain talk if he does not pray. And I say furthermore, that of all the evidences of real work of the spirit, a habit of hardy private prayer is one of the most satisfactory that can be named. A man may preach from false motives. A man may write books and make fine speeches, and seem diligent in good works, and yet be a Judas Iscariot. But a man seldom goes into his closet and pours out his soul before God in secret, unless he is an earnest. The Lord himself has set his stamp on prayer as the best proof of a true conversion. When he sent Ananias to Saul in Damascus, he gave him no other evidence of his change of heart than this. Behold, he prayeth. Acts 9.11 I know that much may go on in a man's mind before he is brought to pray. He may have many convictions, desires, wishes, feelings, intentions, resolutions, hopes, and fears. But all these things are very uncertain evidences. They are to be found in ungodly people, and often come to nothing. In many a case they are not more lasting than the morning cloud and the dew that goeth away. Hosea 6.4 A real hardy prayer, flowing from a broken and contrite spirit, is worth all these things put together. I know that the elect of God are chosen to salvation from all eternity. I do not forget that the Holy Spirit, who calls them in due time, in many cases leads them by very slow degrees to acquaintance with Christ. But the eye of man can only judge by what it sees. I cannot call anyone justified until he believes. I dare not say that anyone believes until he prays. I cannot understand a dumb faith. The first act of faith will be to speak to God. Faith is to the soul what life is to the body. Prayer is to faith what breath is to life. How a man can live and not breathe is past my comprehension. And how a man can believe and not pray is past my comprehension too. Let no one be surprised if he hears ministers of the gospel dwelling much on the importance of prayer. This is the point we want to bring to you. We want to know that you pray. Your views of doctrine may be correct. Your love of Protestantism may be warm and unmistakable. But still, this may be nothing more than head knowledge and party spirit. The great point is this, whether you can speak to God as well as speak about God. 3. In the third place, there is no duty in religion so neglected as private prayer. We live in days of abounding religious profession. There are more places of public worship now than there ever were before. There are more persons attending them than there ever have been since England was a nation. And yet, in spite of all this public religion, I believe there is a vast neglect of private prayer. I should not have said so a few years ago. I once thought in my ignorance that most people said their prayers, and many people prayed. I have lived to think differently. I have come to the conclusion that the great majority of professing Christians do not pray at all. I know this sounds very shocking and will startle many, but I am satisfied that prayer is just one of those things which is thought a matter of course. And, like many matters of course, is shamefully neglected. It is everybody's business, and, as it often happens in such cases, it is a business carried on by very few. It is one of those private transactions between God and our souls which no eye sees, and therefore one which there is every temptation to pass over and leave undone. I believe that thousands never say a word of prayer at all. They eat, they drink, they sleep, they rise, they go forth to their labor, they return to their homes, they breathe God's air, they see God's sun, they walk on God's earth, they enjoy God's mercies, they have dying bodies, they have judgment and eternity before them, but they never speak to God. They live like the beasts that perish, they behave like creatures without souls. They have not a word to say to him, in whose hand are their life and breath and all things, and from whose mouth they must one day receive their everlasting sentence. How dreadful this seems! But if the secrets of men were only known, how common! I believe there are tens of thousands whose prayers are nothing but a mere form. A set of words repeated by rote, without a thought about their meaning. Some say, over a few hasty sentences, picked up in the nursery when they were children. Some contempt themselves with repeating the belief, forgetting that there is not a request in them. Some add the Lord's prayer, but without the slightest desire that its solemn petitions may be granted. Some among the poor even at this day repeat the old poppish lines. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John bless the bed that I lie on. Many, even of those who use good forms, mutter their prayers over after they have got into bed, or scrambled over them while they wash or dress in the morning. Men may think what they please, but they may depend that in the sight of God this is not praying. Words said without heart are as utterly useless to our souls as the drum beating of the poor heathen before their idols. Where there is no heart there may be lip-work and tongue-work, but there is nothing that God listens to. There is no prayer. Saul, I have no doubt, said many a long prayer before the Lord met him on the way to Damascus. But it was not till his heart was broken that the Lord said, he prayeth. Does this surprise any reader? Listen to me, and I will show you that I am not speaking as I do without reason. Do you think that my assertions are extravagant and unwarrantable? Give me your attention, and I will soon show you that I am only telling you the truth. Have you forgotten that it is not natural to anyone to pray? The carnal mind is enmity against God. The desire of man's heart is to get far away from God and to have nothing to do with him. His feeling toward him is not love, but fear. Why then should a man pray when he has no real sense of sin, no real feeling of spiritual wants, no thorough belief in unseen things, no desire after holiness in heaven? Of all these things the vast majority of men know and feel nothing. The multitude walk in the broad way. I cannot forget this. Therefore I say boldly, I believe that few pray. Have you forgotten that it is not fashionable to pray? It is just one of the things that many would be rather ashamed to own. There are hundreds who would sooner storm a breach or lead a forlorn hope than confess publicly that they make a habit of prayer. There are thousands who, if obliged, may chance to sleep in the same room with a stranger would lie down in bed without a prayer. To ride well, to shoot well, to dress well, to go to balls, and concerts, and theaters, to be thought clever and agreeable. All this is fashionable, but not to pray. I cannot forget this. I cannot think a habit is common which so many seem ashamed to own. I believe that few pray. Have you forgotten the lives that many live? Can we really suppose that people are praying against sin night and day when we see them plunging right into it? Can we suppose they pray against the world when they are entirely absorbed and taken up with its pursuits? Can we think they really ask God for grace to serve him when they do not show the slightest desire to serve him at all? Oh, no. It is plain as daylight that the great majority of men either ask nothing of God or do not mean what they say when they do ask, which is just the same thing. Praying and sinning will never live together in the same heart. Prayer will consume sin, or sin will choke prayer. I cannot forget this. I look at men's lives. I believe that few pray. Have you forgotten the deaths that many die? How many, when they draw near death, seem entirely strangers to God? Not only are they sadly ignorant of his gospel, but sadly wanting in the power of speaking to him. There is a terrible awkwardness and shyness and newness and rawness in their endeavours to approach him. They seem to be taking up a fresh thing. They appear as if they want an introduction to God, and as if they had never talked with him before. I remember having heard of a lady who was anxious to have a minister to visit her in her last illness. She desired he would pray with her. He asked her what he should pray for. She did not know and could not tell. She was utterly unable to name any one thing which she wished him to ask God for her soul. All she seemed to want was the form of a minister's prayers. I can quite understand this. Deathbeds are great revealers of secrets. I cannot forget what I have seen of second dying people. This also leads me to believe that few pray. 4. In the fourth place, prayer is that act in religion to which there is the greatest encouragement. There is everything on God's part to make prayers easy, if men will only attempt it. All things are ready on his side. Luke 14, 17. Every objection is anticipated. Every difficulty is provided for. The crooked places are made straight, and the rough places are made smooth. There is no excuse left for the prayerless man. There is a way by which any man, however sinful and unworthy, may draw near to God the Father. Jesus Christ has opened that way by the sacrifice he made for us upon the cross. The holiness and justice of God need not frighten sinners and keep them back. Only let them cry to God in the name of Jesus. Only let them plead the atoning blood of Jesus, and they shall find God upon a throne of grace, willing and ready to hear. The name of Jesus is a never-failing passport to our prayers. In that name a man may draw near to God with boldness and ask with confidence. God has engaged to hear him. Think of this. Is not this encouragement? There is an advocate, an intercessor, always waiting to present the prayers of those who will employ him. That advocate is Jesus Christ. He mingles our prayers with the incense of his own almighty intercession. So mingled they go up as a sweet savor before the throne of God, poor as they are in themselves. They are mighty and powerful in the hand of our high priest and elder brother. The banknote, without a signature at the bottom, is nothing but a worthless piece of paper. A few strokes of a pen confer on it all its value. The prayer of a poor child of Adam is a feeble thing in itself, but once endorsed by the hand of the Lord Jesus it availeth much. There was an officer in the city of Rome who was appointed to have his doors always open in order to receive any Roman citizen who applied to him for help. Just so the ear of the Lord Jesus is ever open to the cry of all who want mercy and grace. It is his office to help them. Their prayer is his delight. Think of this. Is not this encouragement? There is the Holy Spirit, ever ready to help our infirmities in prayer. It is one part of his special office to assist us in our endeavors to speak to God. We need not be cast down and distressed by the fear of not knowing what to say. The Spirit will give us words if we only seek His aid. He will supply us with thoughts that breathe and words that burn. The prayers of the Lord's people are the inspiration of the Lord's Spirit, the work of the Holy Ghost, who dwells within them as the Spirit of grace and supplication. Surely the Lord's people may well hope to be heard. It is not they merely that pray, but the Holy Ghost pleading in them. Romans 8, 26. Think of this. Is not this encouragement? There are exceeding great and precious promises to those who pray. What did the Lord Jesus mean when he spoke such words as these? Ask, and it shall be given you. Seek, and ye shall find. Knock, and it shall be opened unto you. For every one that asketh, receiveth, and he that seeketh, findeth, and to him that knocketh, it shall be opened. Matthew 7, 7, 8. All things whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer believing ye shall receive. Matthew 21, 22. Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name that will I do. That the Father may be glorified in the Son. If ye shall ask anything in my name I will do it. John 14, 13, 14. What did the Lord mean when he spoke the parables of the friend at midnight in the importunate widow? Luke 11, 5, and 18, 1. Think over these passages. If this is not encouragement to pray, words have no meaning at all. There are wonderful examples in Scripture of the power of prayer. Nothing seems to be too great, too hard, or too difficult for prayer to do. It has obtained things that seemed impossible, and out of reach. It has won victories over fire, air, earth, and water. Prayer opened the Red Sea. Prayer brought water from the rock and bread from heaven. Prayer made the sun stand still. Prayer brought fire upon the sky on Elijah's sacrifice. Prayer turned the council of Ahithophel into foolishness. Prayer overthrew the army of Sinatraab. Well might Mary, Queen of Scots, say, I fear John Knox's prayers more than an army of ten thousand men. Prayer has healed the sick. Prayer has raised the dead. Prayer has procured the conversion of souls. The child of many prayers, said an old Christian to Augustine's mother, shall never perish. Prayer, pains, and faith can do anything. Nothing seems impossible when a man has the spirit of adoption. Let me alone, is the remarkable saying of God to Moses. When Moses was about to intercede for the children of Israel, Exodus 32.10, the Chaldee version has it, leave off praying. So long as Abraham asked mercy for Sodom, the Lord went on giving. He never ceased to give, till Abraham ceased to pray. Think of this. Is not this encouragement? What more can a man want to lead him to take any step in religion than the things I have just told him about prayer? What more could be done to make the path to the mercy seat easy, and to remove all occasions and stumbling from the sinner's way? Surely, if the devils in hell had such a door set open before them, they would leap for gladness, and make the very pit ring with joy. But where will the man hide his head at last, who neglects such glorious encouragements? What can be possibly said for the man who after all dies without prayer? God forbid that any reader of this paper should be that man. 5. In the fifth place, diligence in prayer is the secret of imminent holiness. Without controversy there is a vast difference among true Christians. There is an immense interval between the foremost and the hindermost in the army of God. They are all fighting the same good fight, but how much more valiantly some fight than others. They are all doing the Lord's work, but how much more some do than others. They are all light in the Lord, but how much more brightly some shine than others. They are all running the same race, but how much faster some get on than others. They all love the same Lord and Saviour, but how much more some love him than others. I ask any true Christian whether this is not the case. Are not these things so? There are some of the Lord's people who seem never able to get on from the time of their conversion. They are born again, but they remain babies all their lives. They are learners in Christ's school, but they never seem to get beyond A, B, C, and the lowest form. They have God inside the fold, but there they lie down and get no further. Year after year you see in them the same old besetting sins. You hear from them the same old experience. You remark in them the same want of spiritual appetite, the same squeamishness about anything but the milk of the word, and the same dislike to strong meat, the same childishness, the same feebleness, the same littleness of mind, the same narrowness of heart, the same want of interest in anything beyond their own little circle, which you remarked ten years ago. They are pilgrims indeed, but pilgrims like the gibionites of old. Their bread is always dry and moldy, their shoes always old and clouded, and their garments always rent and torn, Joshua 9, 4, and 5. I say this with sorrow and grief, but I ask any real Christian, is it not true? There are others of the Lord's people who seem to be always getting hawn. They grow like the grass after rain. They increase like Israel and Egypt. They press on like Gideon, though sometimes faint yet always pursuing. Judges 8, 4. They are never adding grace to grace, and faith to faith, and strength to strength. Every time you meet them their hearts seem larger, and their spiritual stature bigger, taller, and stronger. Every year they appear to see more and know more, and believe more, and feel more in their religion. They not only have good works to prove the reality of their faith, but they are zealous of them. They not only do well, but they are unwirried in well-doing. Titus 2, 14, Galatians 6, 9. They attempt great things, and they do great things. When they fail they try again, and when they fall they are soon up again. And all this time they think themselves poor, unprofitable servants, and fancy they do nothing at all. These are those who make religion lovely and beautiful in the eyes of all. They rest praise even from the unconverted, and win golden opinions even from the selfish men of the world. These are those whom it does one good to see, to be with, and to hear. When you meet them you could believe that, like Moses, they had just come out from the presence of God. When you part with them you feel warmed by their company as if your soul had been near a fire. I know such people are rare. I only ask, is it not so? No. How can we account for the difference which I have just described? What is the reason that some believers are so much brighter and holier than others? I believe the difference. In nineteen cases out of twenty arises from the different habits about private prayer. I believe that those who are not imminently holy pray little, and those who are imminently holy pray much. I dare say this opinion will startle some readers. I have little doubt that many look on imminent holiness as a kind of special gift, which none but a few must pretend to aim at. They admire it at a distance, in books, they think it beautiful when they see an example near themselves. But as to its being a thing within the reach of any but a very few, such a notion never seems to enter their minds. In short, they consider it a kind of monopoly granted to a few favored believers, but certainly not to all. Now I believe that this is a most dangerous mistake. I believe that spiritual, as well as natural greatness, depends far more on the use of means within everybody's reach than on anything else. Of course, I do not say we have a right to expect a miraculous grant of intellectual gifts, but this I do say that when a man is once converted to God, whether he shall be imminently holy or not depends chiefly on his own diligence in the use of God's appointed means. And I assert confidently that the principle means by which most believers have become great in the Church of Christ is the habit of diligent, private prayer. Look through the lives of the brightest and best of God's servants, whether in the Bible or not. See what is written of Moses and David and Daniel and Paul. Mark what is recorded of Luther and Bradford, the Reformers. Observe what is related of the private devotions of Whitfield and Cecil and then and Bickersteth and McChing. Tell me of one of all the godly fellowship of saints and martyrs who has not had this mark most prominently. He was a man of prayer. Oh, depend upon it. Prayer is power. Prayer obtains fresh and continued outpourings of the Spirit. He alone begins the work of grace in a man's heart. He alone can carry it forward and make it prosper. But the good Spirit loves to be entreated, and those who ask most will always have most of his influence. Prayer is the surest remedy against the devil and besetting sins. That sin will never stand firm which is heartily prayed against. That devil will never long keep dominion over us which we beseech the Lord to cast forth. But then we must spread out all our case before our heavenly physician if he is to give us daily relief. We must drag our indwelling devils to the feet of Christ and cry to him to send them back to the pit. Do we wish to grow in grace and be very holy Christians? Then let us never forget the value of prayer. Six. In the sixth place. Neglect a prayer is one great cause of backsliding. There is such a thing as going back in religion after making a good profession. Men may run well for a season like the Galatians, and then turn aside after false teachers. Men may profess loudly while their feelings are warm, as Peter did, and then in the hour of trial deny their Lord. Men may lose their first love as the Ephesians did. Men may cool down in their zeal to do good, like Mark, the companion of Paul. Men may follow an apostle for a season, and then, like Demas, go back to the world. All these things men may do. It is a miserable thing to be a backslider. Of all unhappy things that can befall a man, I suppose it is the worst. A stranded ship, a broken winged eagle, a garden overrun with weeds, a harp without strings, a church in ruins. All these are sad sights, but a backslider is a sadder sight still. That true grace shall never be extinguished, and true union with Christ never broken off, I feel no doubt. But I do believe that a man may fall away so far that he shall lose sight of his own grace, and despair of his own salvation. And if this is not hell, it is certainly the next thing to it. A wounded conscience, a mind sick of itself, a memory full of self reproach, a harp pierced through with the Lord's arrows, a spirit broken with the load of inward accusation. All this is a taste of hell. It is a hell on earth. Truly that saying of the wise man is solemn and weighty. The backslider in heart shall be filled with his own ways. Proverbs 14 14 Now, what is the cause of most backsliding? I believe, as a general rule, one of the chief causes is neglect of private prayer. Of course, the secret history of falls will not be known to the last day. I can only give my opinion as a minister of Christ, and a student of the heart. That opinion is, I repeat distinctly, that backsliding generally first begins with neglect of private prayer. Bibles read without prayer, sermons heard without prayer, marriages contracted without prayer, journeys undertaken without prayer, residences chosen without prayer, friendships formed without prayer, the daily act of private prayer itself hurried over or gone through without heart. These are the kind of downward steps by which many a Christian descends to a condition of spiritual palsy, or reaches the point where God allows him to have a tremendous fall. This is the process which forms the lingering lots, the unstable Samson's, the wife idolizing Solomon's, the inconsistent Asa's, the pliable Jehoshaphat's, the over-careful Marthas, of whom so many are to be found in the Church of Christ. Often the simple history of such cases is this. They became careless about private prayer. We may be very sure that men fall, in private, long before they fall in public. They are backsliders on their knees, long before they backslide openly in the eyes of the world. Like Peter, they first disregard the Lord's warning to watch and pray, and then, like Peter, their strength is gone, and in the hour of temptation they deny their Lord. The world takes notice of their fall, and scoffs loudly, but the world knows nothing of the real reason. The heathen succeeded in making origin. The old Christian father offered incense to an idol by threatening him with the punishment worse than death. They then triumphed greatly at the sight of his cowardice, an apostasy, but the heathen did not know the fact, which origin himself tells us, that on that very morning he had left his bed-chamber hastily, and, without finishing, his usual prayers. If any reader of this paper is a Christian, indeed, I trust he will never be a backslider, but if you do not wish to be a backsliding Christian, remember the hint I give you. Mind your prayers. End of Part 1