ove measure, insomuch that I despair of
life, and that which cometh upon me daily is the care of all the
churches,' and yet driven, harassed beyond his strength with business
and cares as he was, he did himself what he bids us do. His life was
prayer, therefore his life was Christ, therefore he was equal to all
demands. None of us are as hard-worked, as heavily pressed, as much
hunted by imperative and baying dogs of duties as Paul was. It is
possible for us to obey this commandment and to pray everywhere. A
servant girl down on her knees doing the doorsteps may do that task from
such a motive, and with such accompaniments, as she dips her cloth into
the hot-water bucket, as to make even it prayer to God. We each can lift
all the littlenesses of our lives into a lofty region, if only we will
link them on to the throne of God by prayer.

There is another way by which this ideal can be attained, and that is to
cultivate the habit, which I think many Christian people do not
cultivate, of little short swallow-flights of prayer in the midst of our
daily work. 'They cried unto God in the battle, and He was entreated of
them.' If a Philistine sword was hanging over the man's head, do you
think he would have much time to drop down upon his knees, to make a
petition, divided into all the parts which divines tell us go to make up
the complete idea of prayer? I should think not; but he could say, 'Save
me, O Lord!' 'They cried to God in the battle--little, sharp, short
shrieks of prayer--and He was entreated of them.' If you would cast
swift electric flashes of that kind more frequently up to heaven, you
would bring down the blessings that very often do not come after the
most elaborate and proper and formal petitions. 'Lord, save or I
perish!' It did not take long to say that, but it made the difference
between drowning and deliverance.

Still further, notice the conditions of true prayer that are here
required. I will that men pray everywhere 'lifting up _holy_ hands.'
That is a piece of symbolism, of course. Apparently the Jewish attitude
of prayer was unlike ours. They seem to have stood during devotion and
to have elevated their hands with open, empty, upturned palms to heaven.
We clasp ours in entreaty, or fold them as a symbol of resignation and
submission. They lifted them, with the double idea, I suppose, of
offering themselves to God thereby, and of asking Him to put something
into the empty hand, just as a beggar says