Prayer

I was walking with him [Charles Spurgeon] in the woods one day just outside London and, as we strolled under the shadow of the summer foliage, we came upon a log lying athwart the path. "Come," he said, as naturally as one would say it if he were hungry and bread was put before him. "Come, let us pray." Kneeling beside the log he lifted his soul to God in the most loving and yet reverent prayer.
Then, rising from his knees he went strolling on, talking about this and that. The prayer was no parenthesis interjected. It was something that belonged as much to the habit of his mind as breathing did to the habit of his body.

- Dr. Wayland Hoyt, Spurgeon P. 178