ile men are asking whether prayer can accomplish similar wonders as of
old, here is a man who answers the question by the indisputable logic of
facts. _Powerlessness always means prayerlessness._ It is not necessary
for us to be sinlessly perfect, or to be raised to a special dignity of
privilege and endowment, in order to wield this wondrous weapon of power
with God; but it _is_ necessary that we be men and women of
prayer--habitual, believing, importunate prayer.

George Muller considered nothing too small to be a subject of prayer,
because nothing is too small to be the subject of God's care. If He
numbers our hairs, and notes a sparrow's fall, and clothes the grass in
the field, nothing about His children is beneath His tender thought. In
every emergency, his one resort was to carry his want to his Father.
When, in 1858, a legacy of five hundred pounds was, after fourteen
months in chancery, still unpaid, the Lord was besought to cause this
money soon to be placed in his hands; and he prayed that legacy out of
the bonds of chancery as prayer, long before, brought Peter out of
prison. The money was paid contrary to all human likelihood, and with
interest at four per cent. When large gifts were proffered, prayer was
offered for grace to know whether to accept or decline, that no money
might be greedily grasped at for its own sake; and he prayed that, if it
could not be accepted without submitting to conditions which were
dishonouring to God, it might be declined so graciously, lovingly,
humbly, and yet firmly, that the manner of its refusal and return might
show that he was acting, not in his own behalf, but as a servant under
the authority of a higher Master.

These are graver matters and might well be carried to God for guidance
and help. But George Muller did not stop here. In the lesser affairs,
even down to the least, he sought and received like aid. His oldest
friend, Robert C. Chapman of Barnstaple, gave the writer the following
simple incident:

In the early days of his love to Christ, visiting a friend, and seeing
him mending a quill pen, he said: "Brother H----, do you pray to God
when you mend your pen?" The answer was: "It would be well to do so, but
I cannot say that I do pray when mending my pen." Brother Muller
replied: "I always do, and so I mend my pen much better."

As we cast this last backward glance at this man of God, seven
conspicuous qualities stand out in him, the combination of which made