George Müller of Bristol, and His Witness to a Prayer-Hearing God

by Arthur T. Pierson

It was as though he had some foretokens of his being about shortly to put off this his tabernacle. Evidently he was not taken by surprise. He had foreseen that his days were fast completing their number. Seven months before his departure, he had remarked to his medical attendant, in connection with the irregularity of his pulse: "It means death."

Many of the dear orphans—as when the first Mrs. Müller died—wrote, asking that they might contribute toward the erection of a monument to the memory of their beloved benefactor. Already one dear young servant had gathered, for the purpose, over twenty pounds. In conformity with the known wishes of his father-in-law that only the simplest headstone be placed over his remains, Mr. Wright thought necessary to check the inflow of such gifts, the sum in hand being quite sufficient.

Further urgent appeals were made both from British and American friends, for the erection of some statue or other large visible monument or memorial, and in these appeals the local newspapers united. At length private letters led Mr. Wright to communicate with the public press, as the best way at once to silence these appeals and express the ground of rejecting such proposals. He wrote as follows:

"You ask me, as one long and closely associated with the late Mr. George Müller, to say what I think would be most in accordance with his own wishes as a fitting memorial of himself.

"Will not the best way of replying to this question be to let him speak for himself?

"1st. When he erected Orphan House No. 1, and the question came what is the building to be called, he deliberately avoided associating his own name with it, and named it 'The New Orphan House, Ashley Down.' N.B.—To the end of his life he disliked hearing or reading the words 'Müller's Orphanage.' In keeping with this, for years, in every Annual Report, when referring to the Orphanage he reiterated the statement, 'The New Orphan Houses on Ashley Down, Bristol, are not my Orphan Houses,... they are God's Orphan Houses.' (See, for example, the Report for 1897, p. 69.)

"2nd. For years, in fact until he was nearly eighty years old, he steadily refused to allow any portrait of himself to be published; and only most reluctantly (for reasons which he gives with characteristic minuteness in the preface to 'Preaching Tours') did he at length give way on this point.

"3rd. In the last published Report, at page 66, he states: 'The primary object I had in view in carrying on this work,' viz., 'that it might be seen that now, in the nineteenth century, God is still the Living God, and that now, as well as thousands of years ago, He listens to the prayers of His children and helps those who trust in Him.' From these words and ways of acting, is it not evident, that the only 'memorial' that George Müller cared about was that which consists in the effect of his example, Godward, upon his fellow men? Every soul converted to God (instrumentally) through his words or example constitutes a permanent memorial to him as the father in Christ of such an one. Every believer strengthened in faith (instrumentally) through his words or example constitutes a similar memorial to his spiritual teacher.

"He knew that God had, already, in the riches of His grace, given him many such memorials; and he departed this life, as I well know, cherishing the most lively hope that he should greet above thousands more to whom it had pleased God to make him a channel of rich spiritual blessing.

"He used often to say to me, when he opened a letter in which the writer poured out a tale of sore pecuniary need, and besought his help to an extent twice or three or ten times exceeding the sum total of his (Mr. Müller's) earthly possessions at the moment, 'Ah! these dear people entirely miss the lesson I am trying to teach them, for they come to me, instead of going to God.' And if he could come back to us for an hour, and listen to an account of what his sincerely admiring, but mistaken, friends are proposing to do to perpetuate his memory, I can hear him, with a sigh, exclaiming, 'Ah! these dear friends are entirely missing the lesson that I tried for seventy years to teach them,' viz., 'That a man can receive nothing except it be given him from above,' and that, therefore, it is the Blessed Giver, and not the poor receiver, that is to be glorified.