The Power of Prayer

Samuel I. Prime

One day, in one of our meetings, that burdened young man found his burden removed, faith in Christ sprang up in his soul, found his repentings kindled together, felt in himself the hope that maketh not ashamed, realised a Saviour precious to his soul. He believed that God, for Christ’s sake, had forgiven his sins. He determined that he would never be ashamed of Christ. He would acknowledge and honour him everywhere.

The opportunity - the time and place soon came. He was returning to his home in the evening.

‘Now,’ said he, ‘I must honour and obey God in my family. I must set up family worship.’

‘Oh, no,’ said the tempter, ‘not yet. Don’t be in a hurry. Take time. Get a little stronger, and then you can go on better.

‘I must begin to-night. I do not know what my wife and sister will say; but it is a duty, and I am resolved to do it, and trust God for the rest. I must pray in my family.’

‘Not to-night,’ said the tempter; ‘you don’t know how to pray. You have never prayed much. You are unacquainted with the language of prayer. Wait and learn how first.’
‘No, no, I must pray to-night, I will pray to-night. Get thee behind me, Satan.’

He passed into his dwelling, and into his library, and there, before God, his heavenly Father, and in the name of the Lord Jesus, he poured out his heart and asked for strength and grace from on high to assist him in his duty.

When he met his wife that evening, she saw at once that a great change had taken place in him, and she saw it with awe, but said nothing. At length he said:

‘My dear wife, would you have any objections to our having family worship?’

After a moment’s surprise and hesitation she said with true politeness:

‘Certainly not, if it is your pleasure.’

‘Bring me a Bible then, please, and draw up under the gas-light, and let us read and pray.’

He read a chapter, and then kneeled down, but his wife and sister sat upright in their seats, and he felt that he was alone on his knees. He lifted up his eyes to God, and cried out in the bitterness of his soul, ‘God be merciful to me a sinner.’ And gathering strength, he went on in his prayer, pouring out his most earnest cries and supplication that God would have mercy on his beloved wife and sister. So earnest, so importunate was that prayer that God would show his converting grace and power on the spot, that the heart of his wife was melted and overcome, and she slipped from her seat upon her knees beside him, and putting her arms around his neck, ere she was aware, she burst out into one agonising cry to the Lord Jesus for mercy on her soul; and then the sister knelt down by his other side, and she, too, put her arms around him, and burst into a flood of tears.

He continued to pray; he devoted himself and those with him to God. He confessed and bewailed his and their manner of life hitherto; he pleaded the promises of God to all those that seek him, and with unspeakable joy he made mention of the amazing grace of God in the pardon of his sins, and he besought that they all might find and obtain together peace and forgiveness through a crucified Saviour.

The submission was complete; the surrender was fully made; repentance and faith sprang up together in the hearts of all the three, and as they rose from their knees, it was to acknowledge each to the other what new determinations and resolutions and consecration they each had made during the progress of that first prayer in the family, in that parlour, of all they were and all they would be, or should be to Christ.

At another time was related the story of a man who has often, of late, been seen at the Globe Hotel and Fulton street prayer-meetings. A few weeks ago, this man was seen walking back and forth on the sidewalk of the Old North Dutch Church, while the prayer-meeting was going on. He was dressed in a blue striped shirt, and pantaloons of the same material, with an old green pea-jacket hanging on his arm. His countenance bore the marks of a decidedly ‘hard case’. He appeared like one who had been destroying himself by intemperance - nothing left of him but the dilapidated remnants of a man, although he appeared clean and sober. He was evidently agitated with inward contending emotions. A great struggle was going on in his own bosom. He paused in his walking, and coming up the steps to the second storey lecture-room, he inquired of the lay missionary of the church, who is always at the door to see that strangers get comfortable seats, if they would allow such a miserable looking object as he was to come into the meeting.

‘Certainly we will,’ said the missionary, ‘and glad to have you come. Come and welcome,’ and he showed him to a seat.

Daily for weeks that man was seen coming to the prayer-meeting. He began at once to leave off drinking. He became interested in the subject of religion. After four weeks of total abstinence, he voluntarily signed the pledge, promising to ‘taste not - touch not - handle not’. He kept his pledge. He was often without food. His lodging-place was some hole about Washington market. He who feeds the ravens seemed to take care of him, and so to provide that he should not absolutely perish with hunger. Several times he found little packages of bread, or meat and bread, done up, in the streets, as he was walking up and down. In other instances, small sums of money were given him. None was given him at the prayer-meeting, lest he should be induced to come for the sake of the money he could pick up. Thus the Lord provided for him.

His convictions of sin grew more deep and pungent; his countenance betokened increased anxiety; he would loiter after the prayer-meeting, evidently hoping some one would speak to him on the subject of religion. A few evenings after, at the Globe Hotel, he was urged to an immediate acceptance of Christ. He went down to his place in Washington market to lodge. He could not sleep. His distress increased. He had been told to come to Christ. But how should he come? The language of his heart was, ‘Oh! that I might find him.’ He arose and walked the streets to see if he would not feel better. But no relief came. Sin was a heavy burden on his soul. The language of his heart was,

He kept on his walking - he knew not - he cared not whither. At length he paused at a lamppost. He put his hand upon the post, and bent down his head upon his hand, and poured out his soul to God in prayer. The tears of penitence flowed apace. The fountains were broken up. He begged God for Christ’s sake to have mercy on him. All at once, Christ appeared unspeakably precious to his soul. The burden of sin was gone. He rejoiced in his Saviour with exceeding joy. How long he remained in this position he does not know. He took no note of time. He walked the streets the remainder of the night, his whole soul filled with joy. He longed to meet some one to whom he could tell what the Lord had done for him. He went to various places, but could find no one whom he knew. He went to the Battery, and seated himself on the grass. He took out his New Testament, and began to read, and as he read he could not restrain his tears. At length, a gentleman, who had been standing near, observing him, said:

‘My friend, what little book are you reading?’

‘I am reading the New Testament.’

‘Where did you get your Testament?’
‘
I got it at the Fulton Street prayer-meeting.’

‘Do you attend the Fulton street prayer-meeting?’

‘I do.’

‘Do they do you any good?’

‘Well, I hope they have done me good. I hope I have found Christ very precious to my soul.’
And then, in his simple and artless manner, he narrated how he had found Christ at the lamp-post the preceding night, and how his whole soul had become filled with joy.

‘Well,’ said the listener, deeply affected, ‘I have heard of these Fulton street prayer-meetings, and I believe they are doing a world of good. Now I will tell you what I want. I want you to come to my store at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.’ He gave his name and number in Broad Street, and they parted.

Meantime he sought the kind missionary at the Old Dutch Church. He ran up into the upper lecture-room, where he found him and two or three brethren with him. His whole face was beaming with inward peace. In a few brief words he told the story of the lamp-post and the great change.

‘Oh! blessed be God,’ said the missionary, and in a moment all were on their knees.

‘Now let us all pray in turn,’ said he, and he lifted up his voice to God in thanksgiving and praise for his unspeakable mercy to his dear brother in Christ, in thus meeting him in his pardoning mercy and renewing grace. One after another followed in prayer, and last the voice of this new creature in Christ Jesus.

Punctual to the minute, at ten next morning, our brother in Christ was at the store in Broad street, and there he found a new suit of clothes provided for him, throughout, and a place had been found where he could have constant employment at fair wages. He is at present at all our evening meetings and his face shines as the face of an angel.

A few weeks afterwards, as we were sitting in the upper lecture-room of the Fulton street Church, this man came running up the steps to the room. The meeting had been closed for some time, and two or three were lingering in the room. Oh! how happy and radiant was his face. He was passing, he said, and could not go by without coming up and telling us how changed was everything in regard to him. A little time ago he was the slave of sin and Satan and intoxicating drink. Now he feels emancipated from the wretchedness and thraldom in which he then was. A little time ago he had no home, no friends, no visible means of living. Now he is well clad, has a good home, and constant employment. He is employed by a member of the Baptist church, residing in Brooklyn.

It is pleasant to hear from such cases as this, after some time has elapsed to test the genuine character of their conversion. Thus far all the evidence goes to show that these are fruits of the grace of God, and will endure to his praise.