“The promise of God is to the prayer of faith.  But God is constantly better than his promise.  He does not limit Himself by our expectations.  He does exceedingly abundantly more than we can ask or even think.  We are not therefore to be driven from our knees by our want of faith.  I hear men talk as though prayer were of no avail unless we believe beforehand with assurance that we were going to receive all for which we asked.  It is not true.  We are not heard for our much asking, nor for much our believing, but for God’s great mercy’s sake.

“When the mission was first started at the Mill village, if I have understood aright, it was started on the application of the children themselves.  They gathered around the school-house when the Bible-class assembled.  They had no expectation of instruction.  When the first person came to the door to invite them in, probably half of them scampered away in fright.  Did they expect all that has come?  Or would any Christian worker have said, ’They shall not have a Sabbath-school till they ask it, and believe that it will be provided for them?’ And our Father does not wait for the prayer of faith.  Like the father in the parable he comes while we are yet afar off.  If we have faith enough to look wistfully and yearningly for a blessing, He has superabundant love to grant it.”

And then he read, and we sang that most beautiful hymn: 

    “Oh! see how Jesus trusts himself
        Unto our childish love! 
    As though by His free ways with us
        Our earnestness to prove. 
    His sacred name a common word
        On earth He loves to hear;
    There is no majesty in Him
        Which love may not come near. 
    The light of love is round His feet,
        His paths are never dim;
    And He comes nigh to us when we
        Dare not come nigh to Him. 
    Let us be simple with Him, then,
        Not backward, stiff, nor cold,
    As though our Bethlehem could be
        What Sinai was of old.”

Mr. Mapleson is very fond of music.  Singing is a feature of all our prayer-meetings.  I have heard him say that he thought more people had been sung into the kingdom of heaven than were ever preached into it.  Usually his rich voice carries the bass almost alone.  But during the singing of this hymn he sat silent, leaning his head upon his hand.  This silence was so unusual that it almost oppressed the meeting.  When the hymn closed there was a solemn hush, a strange expectancy; it seemed as though no one dared to break the sacred silence.

Our lecture-room occupies half the basement of the church.  I sat in a front seat, close by the little desk-a low platform furnished only with a light stand on which rests the minister hymn-book and a small Bible.  The room was full, but it had filled up after I came in.

The prolonged silence grew painful.  Then I heard a rustle as of one rising to his feet.  Then a voice; I startled, half turned round, restrained myself, thank God, and only cast on Jennie, at my side, a look of wonder and of thanksgiving.  The voice was that of Mr. Gear.