s they seem less crude than the simple-hearted
petition of the old Aryan, which I have quoted. They mean the same.

The more thoughtful votaries of the higher forms of religion have,
however, frequently drawn the distinction between the direct and
indirect fulfilment of the wish. An abundant harvest, restoration to
health, or a victory in battle is the object of our hopes, not in
itself, but for its results upon ourselves. These, in their final
expression, can mean nothing else than agreeable sensations and
pleasurable emotions. These, therefore, are the real though indirect
objects of such prayers; often unconsciously so, because the ordinary
devotee has little capacity and less inclination to analyze the nature
of his religious feelings.

A recent writer, Mr. Hodgson, has said: "The real answer to prayer is
the increase of the joyful emotions, the decrease of the painful
ones."[126-1] It would seem a simpler plan to make this directly the
purport of our petitions; but to the modern mind this naked simplicity
would be distasteful.

Nor is the ordinary supplicant willing to look so far. The direct, not
the indirect object of the wish, is what he wants. The lazzarone of
Naples prays to his patron saint to favor his choice of a lottery
ticket; if it turn out an unlucky number he will take the little leaden
image of the saint from his pocket, revile it, spit on it, and trample
it in the mud. Another man, when his prayer for success is not followed
by victory, sends gifts to the church, flogs himself in public and
fasts. Xenophon gives us in his _Economics_ the prayer of a pious
Athenian of his time, in the person of Ischomachus. "I seek to obtain,"
says the latter, "from the gods by just prayers, strength and health,
the respect of the community, the love of my friends, an honorable
termination to my combats, and riches, the fruit of honest industry."
Xenophon evidently considered these appropriate objects for prayer, and
from the petitions in many recent manuals of devotion, I should suppose
most Christians of to-day would not see in them anything inappropriate.

In spite of the effort that has been made by Professor Creuzer[127-1] to
show that the classical nations rose to a higher use of prayer, one
which made spiritual growth in the better sense of the phrase its main
end; I think such instances were confined to single philosophers and
poets. They do not represent the prayers of the average votary. Then and
now he,