a mere
human spirit, and by mere human reliances, it acts on the mind as a
constant diversion and hinderance, instead of a moral discipline.

Hence, too, come a coldness, and generality, and wandering of mind in
prayer: the things that are on the heart, that are distracting the mind,
that have filled the soul so full that there is no room for any thing
else, are all considered too small and undignified to come within the
pale of a prayer, and so, with a wandering mind and a distracted heart,
the Christian offers up his prayer for things which he thinks he _ought_
to want, and makes no mention of those which he _does_. He prays that
God would pour out his spirit on the heathen, and convert the world, and
build up his kingdom every where, when perhaps a whole set of little
anxieties, and wants, and vexations are so distracting his thoughts,
that he hardly knows what he has been saying: a faithless servant is
wasting his property; a careless or blundering workman has spoiled a lot
of goods; a child is vexatious or unruly; a friend has made promises and
failed to keep them; an acquaintance has made unjust or satirical
remarks; some new furniture has been damaged or ruined by carelessness
in the household; but all this trouble forms no subject matter for
prayer, though there it is, all the while lying like lead on the heart,
and keeping it down, so that it has no power to expand and take in any
thing else. But were God known and regarded as the soul's familiar
friend, were every trouble of the heart as it rises, breathed into his
bosom; were it felt that there is not one of the smallest of life's
troubles that has not been permitted by him, and permitted for specific
good purpose to the soul, how much more would these be in prayer! how
constant, how daily might it become! how it might settle and clear the
atmosphere of the soul! how it might so dispose and lay away many
anxieties which now take up their place there, that there might be
_room_ for the higher themes and considerations of religion!

Many sensitive and fastidious natures are worn away by the constant
friction of what are called _little troubles_. Without any great
affliction, they feel that all the flower and sweetness of their life
have faded; their eye grows dim, their cheek care-worn, and their spirit
loses hope and elasticity, and becomes bowed with premature age; and in
the midst of tangible and physical comfort, they are restless and
unhappy. The constant