which says that when one of the Roman Emperors was entering Rome in triumph, a little child darted through the ranks of the soldiers who lined the road and made for the gorgeous car in which the Emperor was seated. Some of the soldiers tried to restrain the little one and said to him, “It is the Emperor.” “_Your_ Emperor,” said the little one, “but _my_ father.” That was the little child’s right to sit even in the triumphal car. And so some would say, “What right have you, a poor sinner, to approach the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, before whom Cherubim and Seraphim veil their faces with their wings and continually do cry?” What right? Well, the right this word gives. Lord of the Universe? Yes. Maker of the worlds? Yes. King of Kings? Yes. But _my Father_. Who shall dare keep child and parent apart? When ye pray, say “Father,” said our Lord. Let us preface every prayer with that blessed word. It is our claim upon God. No prayer can be too bold; no petition can appear presumptuous when we have commenced by saying “Father.” But this word not only supplies our _warrant for prayer_, it also suggests to us the _spirit in which our prayers must be_ offered. We must pray in the spirit of filial trust, in the spirit of _childlike confidence_. “He that cometh to God,” says the Apostle, “must believe that HE IS.” We must believe first of all in the _reality_ of God. To many God is a name and nothing more. The world to them would be no emptier than it is if there were no God at all. We must first of all believe that God is. But that is not all. The Mongol, the Hindoo, the African savage believe that God is; but no one would say that their devotions illustrate the true spirit of prayer. No: we must not only believe that God is, we must also believe He is a REWARDER. We must believe He is eager to bless. Some would have you believe that God is the helpless creature of His own laws, bound and held captive by them, and therefore unable to listen or to answer the cry of men—like one of those great stone impassive deities of Egypt, that sit there with staring eyes, and hands on knees, the very picture of impotence and helplessness. If God were no more than that, prayer would be a mockery, a delusion, a sham. But the God we are asked to believe in is a REWARDER—a FATHER more eager to bless us than any earthly parent is to answer the request of his child. And Christ puts this word in the very front, in order to help us to come with boldness, in order to beget within us a spirit of childlike expectancy and trust. I fancy when I hear some prayers, that we imagine God keeps His heart bolted and barred, and that we have, by the importunity of our petitions, to force and batter our way through. That was the kind of notion Job had. You remember his cry, “Oh, that I knew where I might find Him.” Well, what would Job do if he did find Him? “Oh,” says Job, “I would order my cause before Him, and fill my mouth with arguments.” Job thought that every