power capable of transcending and modifying every other agency, by which changes became possible which to every other known power were impossible. We see that in this catalogue of the victories of faith he includes the subjection of almost every form of what we call natural laws. The whole passage seems an illustration of the meaning of our Lord, when he says, “If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say to this sycamine tree, Be thou removed and planted in the midst of the sea, and it shall obey you.”

It seems then apparent that the doctrine of the peculiar and wonderful power of the prayer of faith is as clearly revealed in the Scriptures as any other doctrine. It would seem evident, at any rate, from the passages just quoted, that the Apostle Paul understood the teachings of our Saviour to mean what they say. From the general tenor of the Scriptures I think we may learn two important truths: First, that there is a certain state of mind in a devout soul to which God has promised all that it asks, subject, however, as to the manner of the answer, to the dictates of his infinite wisdom and goodness; and, second, that in granting such petitions he does not always limit his action within the ordinary or acknowledged laws of matter or of mind. I do not perceive how we can interpret the passages above cited, as well as many others, without giving them a meaning at least as extensive as this.

Why is it, then, that this whole range of revealed truth has so generally been looked upon as an unknown and unexplored region? Why should we limit either the goodness or the power of God by our own knowledge of what we call the laws of nature? Why should we not admit that “there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in our philosophy”? In a universe governed by moral law, why should not moral laws take precedence of all others? Why should we deny that there is a power in prayer to which we have not commonly attained? We are straitened in ourselves, and suppose that we are straitened in God. We interpret the gracious promises of our most loving Father in heaven by the rule of our own imperfect and unbelieving piety. We ask for light from without, while the light can only come from a more elevated piety within. We ask for examples of the effects of faith at the present day, corresponding to those spoken of in the sacred Scriptures. Thoughtful men acknowledge that there must be a meaning in these promises, which they have not yet understood, and they see plainly that the kingdom of God can never come with power until this prevalence in prayer shall have become a matter of universal attainment; and yet they dare hardly believe that God is as good as he has revealed himself to be.

There have, nevertheless, from time to time, occurred, what plainly appear to be, remarkable instances of answers to prayer. Many of them have faded from recollection, with the generation in which they occurred; those which are remembered, however, seem to teach us that God is a living God now as truly as in times past. The history of persecutions is always filled with remarkable answers to prayer. The rescue of Peter from the power of the Sanhedrim in one case, and from the power of Herod in another, has been a thousand times repeated in the history of the church of Christ. The answer to prayer for divine direction as to the time and manner of performing some Christian service, to which an individual has felt himself specially called, has frequently been very remarkable. The biographies of the early and of many of the later Friends are replete with such instances. Any one who will read the edifying memoirs of George Fox, John Woolman, William Allen, and Stephen Grellet, will find what I have alluded to abundantly exemplified. The well-authenticated accounts of the late revivals in this country and in Ireland teach us that most remarkable instances of answers to prayer were of almost daily occurrence. In the last century a single instance deserves particular remembrance; it was the founding of Franke’s Orphan House at Halle. It seemed to him to be a Christian duty to attempt something for the relief of orphans, and he commenced the undertaking. From time to time, as the number of applicants increased, the means for their support was provided, in answer, as he firmly believed, to fervent and unceasing prayer. Thus an extensive establishment was reared, which has continued to the present day, providing education and support for thousands of the poor and destitute, and it has been for a century and a half one of the most honored of the charitable institutions of the continent of Europe.

The most remarkable instance of the efficacy of prayer with which I am acquainted, is that recorded in the following pages. It seems, in fact, to be a practical illustration of the meaning of those passages of Scripture which I have already recited. A young German Christian, friendless and unknown, is conscious of what he believes to be a call from the Lord to attempt something for the benefit of the poor vagabond children of Bristol. He is at this time preaching the gospel to a small company of believers, from whom, at his own suggestion, he receives no salary, being supported day by day by the voluntary offerings of his brethren. Without the promise of aid from any being but God, he commences his work. In answer to prayer, funds are received as they are needed, and the attempt succeeds beyond his expectation. After a few years he is led to believe that God has called him to establish a house for the maintenance and education of orphans. He was impelled to this effort, not only from motives of benevolence, but from a desire to convince men that God was a living God, as ready now as ever to answer prayer; and that, in the discharge of any duty to which he calls us, we may implicitly rely upon his all-sufficient aid in every emergency.

Mr. Müller was led to undertake this work in such a manner that aid could not be expected from any being but God. He did not of course expect God to create gold and silver and put them into his hands. He knew, however, that God could incline the hearts of men to aid him, and he believed, if the thing that he attempted was of Him, that he would so incline them, in answer to prayer, as his necessities should require. Most men in making such an attempt would have spread the case before the public, employed agents to solicit in its behalf, and undertaken nothing until funds adequate to the success of the enterprise had been already secured. But Mr. Müller, true to his principles, would do no such thing. From the first day to the present moment he has neither directly nor indirectly solicited either of the public or of an individual a single penny. As necessities arose he simply laid his case before God and asked of him all that he needed, and the supply has always been seasonable and unfailing.

The conductors of benevolent enterprises generally consider it important to publish the names of donors, appealing thus to what is considered an innocent desire in man to let our good deeds be known, and thus also to stimulate others to do likewise. Ignoring every motive of this kind, Mr. Müller made it his rule to publish the name of no contributor. When the name was known to him, which, however, was not often the case, he made a private acknowledgment; while in his printed account he only made known the sum received, and the date of its reception. In this manner, forsaking every other reliance but God, and in childlike simplicity looking to him alone for the supply of every want, all that he needed was furnished as punctually as if, in possession of millions, he had drawn from time to time on his banker.

Thus has he continued from, I think, the year 1834. By degrees the establishment increased, and it was necessary to leave