Have you never observed how free the Lord's Prayer is of any material that can tempt to subtle self-inspection in the art of devotion? It is full of an outflowing of thought and of emotion toward great objects of desire, great necessities, and great perils.
For "we know not what we should pray for as we ought;" but love leads us on, abandons us to all the operations of grace, puts us entirely at the disposal of God's will, and thus prepares us for all His designs.
Not what we wish, but what we want,
O let Thy grace supply:
The good, unasked, in mercy grant,
The ill, though asked, deny.
There is something in every act of prayer that for a time stills the violence of passion, and elevates and purifies the affections.
When Christ went up into a mountain apart to pray, He dismissed the multitude, to teach us that when we address ourselves to God, we must first dismiss the multitude. We must send away the multitude of worldly cares, worldly thoughts, worldly concerns and business, when we would call upon God in duty.
Prayers born out of murmuring are always dangerous. When, therefore, we are in a discontented mood, let us take care what we cry for, lest God give it to us, and thereby punish us.
