A Meditation Upon Strength and Length of Prayer by William Spurstowe (ca. 1666)   When Cicero was asked which of Demosthenes Orations he thought best, he wittily replied, “The longest.”  But, if the question should be, which Prayers are the best, the answer then must not be the longest, but the strongest:  not the prayer that exceeds in quantity, but that which excels in quality.  In moral actions, the manner of working is a swaying circumstance; a man may sin in doing good, but not in doing well:  How few then are there which manage this duty of holy prayer aright?  Some mistake the language of prayer, and think it consists of nothing else than the clothing of their meaning in apt expressions, with a tunable delivery of it.  Others presume that, if necessity has put an edge upon their requests, and stirred up some passions of self-love, that they cannot fail of acceptance.  Others again put much in the length of their prayers, measuring them by the time which is spent, rather than by the intention which is exercised in them.  The prayer, which is as delightful music in God’s ears, is not that which hath the quaint notes of the nightingale, but that which hath the mournful tones of the dove.  Broken sighs and groans are the best eloquence with God, and become prayer, as unexpected stops and rests (made by musicians) do grace the music with a kind of harmonical ellipsis. It is not the prayer that indigency and natural desires do sharpen, but which the Spirit doth enliven that is prevalent with God.  The one is as the cry of the young ravens, and the other is as the voice of children that are taught to cry, “Abba, Father.”  It is not the many words of a proud Pharisee that obtains the blessing, but the pithy and short confession of a penitent publican who is sent away justified.  “Ah Father!” may sometimes be more effectual with God, who searcheth the hearts, and knoweth the mind of the Spirit, than a prayer that is stretched forth like an evening shadow to a wonderful length.  The one, though it be short, may like a small figure in a number, stand for much:  and the other, though great, like a volume of ciphers, may signify nothing.  Let therefore such who are frequent in the duty of prayer, especially young converts who are apt to think above what is meet of their own enlargements, endeavor to turn their length into strength, and to remember that there is a wide difference between the gift and grace of prayer, and that it is one thing to have commerce with God in duties, and another to have communion with Him.  The one is such which strangers may have in their mutual traffic, but the other is proper to friends, who are knit together in love.     -----------------------  This article is taken from:  Spurstowe, William.  The Spiritual Chymist: or, Six Decads of Divine Meditations on Several Subjects. London: Philip Chetwind, 1666.  A PDF file of this book can be downloaded, free of charge, at http://www.ClassicChristianLibrary.com