True prayer—oral or silent—is of the bosom, not of the brain.2 It is the legitimate child of emotion, undisturbed by suggestions of the intellect. Hence, as a purely spiritual exercise, springing from the love-gravitation of the finite toward the attraction of the infinite, prayer is likely to include a variety of conflicting elements —fervency, rapture, sense of reverence, fear, confidence, rest, joy; but selfishness also and egotism. Spirit is the source of that emotion which seeks utterance in prayer. Closet prayers are petitions for benefits or expressions of gratitude, praise, submission—too deep for words— whispered to the Infinite from the silence of the sincere spirit.
The earnest and sincere nature is invariably devout and prayerful. Devotion is the allegiance of mind to its objects, labours and enterprises. Such a mind, when apart from intelligence, prays for special favours, nor is that God unchangeable of Whom it conceives. It is thought that prayer "without ceasing" may attract God's attention, overcome His original reluctance to
grant favours and induce Him for once to modify or suspend the operation of natural causes and laws. A mind capable of such a conception is happily not capable of perceiving the blasphemy involved, nor does it recognise the equal earnestness of every other devotee attached to conflicting forms of religion in every part of the globe.1 The faithful in different Christian churches, beginning with the head of the papal system and ending with the youngest exhorter at a camp meeting, are praying for antagonistic results. Warriors call upon the God of Battle; peacemakers petition a God of Love. Modes of prayer familiar to the Christian heart count for nothing in those immense regions where Mohammedans have called upon Allah for twelve hundred years, while those of Buddha, Brahma or Mohammed are as nothing in countries which pass under the general term of Christian. Yet all prayer is essentially the same, differing in expression only—as there is difference in the birth, temperament and education of the individual.
A child-state of thought is essential to fervent prayer. Everything wonderful is possible to the ignorant mind. The absolute impartiality of God and the unchangeableness of Nature's laws are inconceivable by partial and inconstant minds. In the beginning man made God in his own image and likeness, and unto that primal masterpiece has man addressed ever since his childlike invocations. There is a theory that the Infinite requires of finite creatures vocal recognition, glorification and entreaty. This has resulted in routine praying, so that
the phraseology of prayer—as well as the peculiar emotions summoned to stimulate utterance—have become monotonous and mechanical. As a labour-saving expedient, the more logical and not less sincere heathen have instituted praying-machines, which—it is affirmed—maintain an untarnished reputation for morals and demand nothing by way of salary for religious "services rendered."
An ardent, poetic temperament, stimulating a mind much more developed in the moral than in the intellectual faculties, is most successful in expressing the beauty of holiness by prayer. True prayer is the expression of virgin imagination, warmed and fed by spiritual passion and devout meditation.1 Religious feeling is the poetic brooding of the spirit. It is cherished most devotionally in youth. Being an intimation of that infinite and eternal life of which the spirit is a part, the feeling grows in the inmost heart and is revealed in the picturesque language of prayer. Analysis of the development and formation of the religious character would reveal elements indispensable to true poetic genius—e.g. apprehensive consciousness of dependence; love of solitude, with its melancholy and brooding; love of the supernatural, with its delicate imaginations and bold appreciations of the Supreme Power; love of ideas, with its conflicting consciousness of ignorance and intuition strangely intermingled; and lastly love of life, with its moods and mysteries, faith and doubt, attempts and failures, reveries, sorrows and despair. More or less
active, these elements are found in the sincerely religious character, especially during earlier years of development.
Finite good within yearns toward the Infinite good. The spirit's natural impulse is to enlist in God's service, and prayer is the formal act of enrolment.1 The ambition to be an officer and not a private in the Lord's army is deemed a holy ambition. The protection of the Almighty is a feeling with which Eternal Love and assistant angels clothe every human heart that pours itself out in prayer.2 There is doubtless a certain correspondence between man's life and his prayers —not because of his prayers but because of the mental and moral condition out of which they spring. Religious persons believe that every day, like every great labour, should begin and end with prayer, which, under God's blessing, will make the day and the labour prosperous. But all experience proves that obedience to the laws of truth and justice is attended with far greater happiness and prosperity. A man must first desire to do good, and his exertions must correspond with his desires before he can realise much strength and comfort from prayer. The firmest will and the toughest muscles give out eventually in a bad cause, while success is certain to crown the weakest and humblest labourer in the cause of truth, love, justice and peace. Who would attempt
to pray for a harvest without having first ploughed and planted the ground? Prayer is a healer of diseases, but only when faith is sufficient to stimulate the will-power, whereby crippled functions are aroused to new life. Prayer feeds the poor, but only when attending angels bring aid from the rich. Labour—righteously and persistently bestowed—is the surest self-answering prayer, and it never lacks the benedictions of God and Nature. The most sincere and uncompromising love of truth, the strongest will, combined with the clearest practical wisdom, burning with fervent religious feeling and exemplified by tireless industry, are certain to win.1
To sum up therefore, considered as "the soul's sincere desire," prayer is natural, and its effect is often salutary. The windows of the mind are opened skyward, and influences from higher intelligences may pervade the soul of a suppliant. He is rendered "more receptive of all noble and elevated impressions." But no soul can pray sincerely unless it feels a need or is filled with joy, thanksgiving and adoration. But it is our impression that the Perfect Soul of All is not disposed more kindly than before toward any suppliant. He Who is acknowledged by all to be "without variableness or shadow of turning" is unlikely to change His policy to suit the popular voice.
We advocate therefore the efficacy and beauty of that silent aspiration which opens heaven to the individual. We believe that there is a world of wisdom for us to learn and our prayer is that all may make rapid advancement in all good ways.1