urselves be left
behind? Are we alive or dead?

The angels have not yet come to sever the dead from the living, but the
time for that great separation is drawing daily nearer, when the Son of
man shall send forth His angels, and they shall gather out of His
kingdom all things that offend; all the loathsomeness of death, and
decay, and impurity shall be collected by angel hands, and, we read,
they shall cast them, not into a vast pit such as was dug in London in
the time of the plague, but into a furnace of fire, there shall be
wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Surely, then, it is worth while to find out whether our soul is alive or
dead. What test then shall we use? How shall we settle the matter
clearly and definitely?

There is one thing, and one thing only, which proves that a man has
life. A man apparently drowned is brought out of the water. He does not
speak, or see, or move, or feel. He is rubbed and warmed, but no sign of
life can be perceived. Can we therefore conclude that the man is dead?
Nay, we will put him to the test. Bring a feather, hold it before his
mouth, watch it carefully, does it move? A crowd of anxious bystanders
gather round to see. Soon a cry of joy is heard, the feather moves.
The man lives, for he _breathes_, and the breath in him is the
unmistakable sign of life.

How then shall I know if my soul lives? Does it breathe? That is the
all-important question. But what is the breath of the soul? The breath
of the soul is prayer. As the old hymn says--

'Prayer is the Christian's vital breath,
The Christian's native air.'

Saul of Tarsus, with all his outward religion, was a dead soul, till the
Lord met him and gave him life. What then is the first thing we find
Saul doing? 'Behold he prayeth.' As soon as he is alive, he breathes, he
prays.

Here then is the test for us to apply to our own souls. Do I know
anything of real prayer? Do I love to hold communion with my God? Am I
ever lifting up my heart to Him? If I live in the atmosphere of prayer,
then I am alive unto God; if, on the other hand, I feel prayer a
weariness, and know not what it is for my heart to hold unseen
intercourse with my Lord, then indeed I am dead in sin, having no
breath, and I have consequently no life.

Nehemiah, the great Rab-shakeh, was a living soul, for he loved to pray.
No sooner had he heard the sad news about Jerusalem, than he went to his
private apartments in the palace, and began to plead with G