<center><h3>CHAPTER XIX<br/> AT EVENING-TIME—LIGHT</h3></center>
<p>THE closing scene of this beautiful and eventful life-history has an
interest not altogether pathetic. Mr. Müller seems like an elevated
mountain, on whose summit the evening sun shines in lingering splendour,
and whose golden peak rises far above the ordinary level and belongs to
heaven more than earth, in the clear, cloudless calm of God.</p>
<p>From May, 1892, when the last mission tour closed; he devoted himself
mainly to the work of the Scriptural Knowledge Institution, and to
preaching at Bethesda and elsewhere as God seemed to appoint. His health
was marvelous, especially considering how, when yet a young man,
frequent and serious illnesses and general debility had apparently
disqualified him from all military duty, and to many prophesied early
death or hopeless succumbing to disease. He had been in tropic heat and
arctic cold, in gales and typhoons at sea, and on journeys by rail,
sometimes as continuously long as a sea-voyage. He had borne the pest of
fleas, mosquitoes, and even rats. He had endured changes of climate,
diet, habits of life, and the strain of almost daily services, and come
out of all unscathed. This man, whose health was never robust, had gone
through labours that would try the mettle of an iron constitution; this
man, who had many times been laid aside by illness and sometimes for
months and who in 1837 had feared that a persistent head trouble might
unhinge his mind, could say, in his ninety-second year: "I have been
able, every day and all the day, to work, and that with ease, as seventy
years since." When the writer was holding meetings in Bristol in 1896,
on an anniversary very sacred to himself, he asked his beloved father
Müller to speak at the closing meeting of the series, in the Y.M.C.A.
Hall; and he did so, delivering a powerful address of forty-five
minutes, on Prayer in connection with Missions, and giving his own
life-story in part, with a vigour of voice and manner that seemed a
denial of his advanced age.*</p>
<p>* Appendix K.</p>
<p>The marvelous preservation of such a man at such an age reminds one of
Caleb, who at eighty-five could boast in God that he was as strong even
for war as in the day that he was sent into the land as one of the
spies; and Mr. Müller himself attributed this preservation to three
causes: first, the exercising of himself to have always a conscience
void of offence both toward God and toward men; secondly to the love he
felt for the Scriptures, and the constant recuperative power they
exercised upon his whole being; and third, to that happiness he felt in
God and His work, which relieved him of all anxiety and needless wear
and tear in his labours.</p>
<p>The great fundamental truth that this heroic man stamped on his
generation was that the Living God is the same to-day and forever as
yesterday and in all ages past, and that, with equal confidence with the
most trustful souls of any age, we may believe His word, and to every
promise add, like Abraham, our 'Amen'—IT SHALL BE SO!* When, a few
days after his death, Mr. E. H. Glenny, who is known to many as the
beloved and self-sacrificing friend of the North African Mission, passed
through Barcelona, he found written in an album over his signature the
words: "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday and to-day and for ever." And,
like the writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews, quoting from the 102nd
Psalm, we may say of Jehovah, while all else changes and perishes:</p>
<p> "THOU REMAINEST";
"THOU ART THE SAME."</p>
<p>Toward the close of life Mr. Müller, acting under medical advice, abated
somewhat of his active labours, preaching commonly but once a Sunday. It
was my privilege to hear him on the morning of the Lord's day, March 22,
1896. He spoke on the 77th Psalm; of course he found here his favourite
theme—prayer; and, taking that as a fair specimen of his average
preaching, he was certainly a remarkable expositor of Scripture even at
ninety-one years of age. Later on the outline of this discourse will be
found.</p>
<p>* Gen. xv. 6. (Hebrew.)</p>
<p>On Sunday morning, March 6, 1898, he spoke at Alma Road Chapel, and on
the Monday evening following was at the prayer service at Bethesda, on
both occasions in his usual health. On Wednesday evening following, he
took his wonted place at the Orphan House prayer meeting and gave out
the hymns:</p>
<p> "The countless multitude on high."
and
"We'll sing of the Shepherd that died."</p>
<p>When he bade his beloved son-in-law "good-night," there was no outward
sign of declining strength. He seemed to the last the vigorous old man,
and retired to rest as usual. It had been felt that one so advanced in
years should have some night-attendant, especially as indications of
heart-weakness had been noticed of late, and he had yielded to the
pressure of love and consented to such an arrangement <i>after that
night.</i> But the consent came too late. He was never more to need human
attendance or attention. On Thursday morning, March 10th, at about seven
o'clock, the usual cup of tea was taken to his room. To the knock at the
door there was no response save an ominous silence. The attendant opened
the door, only to find that the venerable patriarch lay dead, on the
floor beside the bed. He had probably risen to take some nourishment—a
glass of milk and a biscuit being always put within reach—and, while
eating the biscuit, he had felt faint, and fallen, clutching at the
table-cloth as he fell, for it was dragged off, with certain things that
had lain on the table. His medical adviser, who was promptly summoned,
gave as his opinion that he had died of heart-failure some hour or two
before he had been found by his attendant.</p>
<p>Such a departure, even at such an age, produced a worldwide sensation.
That man's moral and spiritual forces reached and touched the earth's
ends. Not in Bristol, or in Britain alone, but across the mighty waters
toward the sunrise and sunset was felt the responsive pulse-beat of a
deep sympathy. Hearts bled all over the globe when it was announced, by
telegraph wire and ocean cable, that George Müller was dead. It was said
of a great Englishman that his influence could be measured only by
"parallels of latitude"; of George Müller we may add, and by meridians
of longitude. He belonged to the whole church and the whole world, in a
unique sense; and the whole race of man sustained a loss when he died.</p>
<p>The funeral, which took place on the Monday following, was a popular
tribute of affection, such as is seldom seen. Tens of thousands of
people reverently stood along the route of the simple procession; men
left their workshops and offices, women left their elegant homes or
humble kitchens, all seeking to pay a last token of respect. Bristol had
never before witnessed any such scene.</p>
<p>A brief service was held at Orphan House No. 3, where over a thousand
children met, who had for a second time lost a 'father'; in front of the
reading-desk in the great dining-room, a coffin of elm, studiously
plain, and by request without floral offerings, contained all that was
mortal of George Müller, and on a brass plate was a simple inscription,
giving the date of his death, and his age.</p>
<p>Mr. James Wright gave the address, reminding those who were gathered
that, to all of us, even those who have lived nearest God, death comes
while the Lord tarries; that it is blessed to die in the Lord; and that
for believers in Christ there is a glorious resurrection waiting. The
tears that ran down those young cheeks were more eloquent than any
words, as a token of affection for the dead. The procession silently
formed. Among those who followed the bier were four who had been
occupants of that first orphan home in Wilson Street. The children's
grief melted the hearts of spectators, and eyes unused to weeping were
moistened that day. The various carriages bore the medical attendants,
the relatives and connections of Mr. Müller, the elders and deacons of
the churches with which he was associated, and his staff of helpers in
the work on Ashley Down. Then followed forty or fifty other vehicles
with deputations from various religious bodies, etc.</p>
<p>At Bethesda, every foot of space was crowded, and hundreds sought in
vain for admission. The hymn was sung which Mr. Müller had given out at
that last prayer meeting the night before his departure. Dr. Maclean of
Bath offered prayer, mingled with praise for such a long life of service
and witness, of prayer and faith, and Mr. Wright spoke from Hebrews
xiii. 7, 8:</p>
<p> "Remember them which have the rule over you,
Who have spoken unto you the word of God:
Whose faith follow,
Considering the end of their conversation:
Jesus Christ, the same yesterday and to-day and forever."</p>
<p>He spoke of those spiritual rulers and guides whom God sets over his
people; and of the privilege of imitating their faith, calling attention
to the two characteristics of his beloved father-in-law's faith: first,
that it was based on that immovable Rock of Ages, God's written word;
and secondly, that it translated the precepts and promises of that word
into daily life.</p>
<p>Mr. Wright made very emphatic Mr. Müller's acceptance of the whole
Scriptures, as divinely inspired. He had been wont to say to young
believers, "Put your finger on the passage on which your faith rests,"
and had himself read the Bible from end to end nearly two hundred times.
He fed on the Word and therefore was strong. He found the centre of that
Word in the living Person it enshrines, and his one ground of confidence
was His atoning work. Always in his own eyes weak, wretched, and vile,
unworthy of the smallest blessing, he rested solely on the merit and
mediation of His great High Priest.</p>
<p>George Müller <i>cultivated</i> faith. He used to say to his helpers in
prayer and service, "Never let enter your minds a shadow of doubt as to
the love of the Father's heart or the power of the Father's arm." And he
projected his whole life forward, and looked at it in the light of the
Judgment Day.</p>
<p>Mr. Wright's address made prominent one or two other most important
lessons, as, for example, that the Spirit bids us imitate, not the
idiosyncrasies or philanthropy of others, but <i>their faith.</i> And he took
occasion to remind his hearers that philanthropy was not the foremost
aim or leading feature of Mr. Müller's life, but above all else to
magnify and glorify God, <i>"as still the living God who, now as well as
thousands of years ago, hears the prayers of His children and helps
those who trust Him."</i> He touchingly referred to the humility that led
Mr. Müller to do the mightiest thing for God without self-consciousness,
and showed that God can take up and use those who are willing to be only
instruments.</p>
<p>Mr. Wright further remarked: "I have been asked again and again lately
as to whether the orphan work would go on. It is going on. Since the
commencement of the year we have received between forty and fifty fresh
orphans, and this week expect to receive more. The other four objects of
the Institution, according to the ability God gives us, are still being
carried on. We believe that whatever God would do with regard to the
future will be worthy of Him. We do not know much more, and do not want
to. He knows what He will do. I cannot think, however, that the God who
has so blessed the work for so long will leave our prayers as to the
future unanswered."</p>
<p>Mr. Benjamin Perry then spoke briefly, characterizing Mr. Müller as the
greatest personality Bristol had known as a citizen. He referred to his
power as an expounder of Scripture, and to the fact that he brought to
others for their comfort and support what had first been food to his own
soul. He gave some personal reminiscences, referring, for instance, to
his ability at an extreme old age still to work without hindrance either
mental or physical, free from rheumatism, ache, or pain, and seldom
suffering from exhaustion. He briefly described him as one who, in
response to the infinite love of God, which called him from a life of
sin to a life of salvation and service, wholly loved God above everybody
and everything, so that his highest pleasure was to please and serve
Him. As an illustration of his humility, he gave an incident. When of
late a friend had said, "When God calls you home, it will be like a
ship going into harbour, full sail."—"Oh no!" said Mr. Müller, "it is
poor George Müller who needs daily to pray, 'Hold Thou me up in my
goings, that my footsteps slip not.'" The close of such lives as those
of Asa and Solomon were to Mr. Müller a perpetual warning, leading him
to pray that he might never thus depart from the Lord in his old age.</p>
<p>After prayer by Mr. J. L. Stanley, Col. Molesworth gave out the hymn,</p>
<p> "'Tis sweet to think of those at rest."</p>
<p>And after another prayer by Mr. Stanley Arnot, the body was borne to its
resting-place in Arno's Vale Cemetery, and buried beside the bodies of
Mr. Müller's first and second wives, some eighty carriages joining in the
procession to the grave. Everything from first to last was as simple and
unostentatious as he himself would have wished. At the graveside Col.
Molesworth prayed, and Mr. George F. Bergin read from 1 Cor. xv. and
spoke a few words upon the tenth verse, which so magnifies the grace of
God both in what we <i>are</i> and what we <i>do.</i></p>
<p>Mr. E. K. Groves, nephew of Mr. Müller, announced as the closing hymn
the second given out by him at that last prayer meeting at the
orphanage.</p>
<p> "We'll sing of the Shepherd that died."</p>
<p>Mr. E. T. Davies then offered prayer, and the body was left to its
undisturbed repose, until the Lord shall come.</p>
<p>Other memorial services were held at the Y.M.C.A. Hall, and very
naturally at Bethesda Chapel, which brought to a fitting close this
series of loving tributes to the departed. On the Lord's day preceding
the burial, in nearly all the city pulpits, more or less extended
reference had been made to the life, the character, and the career of
the beloved saint who had for so many years lived his irreproachable
life in Bristol. Also the daily and weekly press teemed with obituary
notices, and tributes to his piety, worth, and work.</p>
<p>It was touchingly remarked at his funeral that he first confessed to
feeling weak and weary in his work that last night of his earthly
sojourn; and it seemed specially tender of the Lord not to allow that
sense of exhaustion to come upon him until just as He was about to send
His chariot to bear him to His presence. Mr. Müller's last sermon at
Bethesda Chapel, after a ministry of sixty-six years, had been from 2
Cor. v. 1:</p>
<p>"For we know that, if our earthly house of this tabernacle were
dissolved, we have a building of God, a house not made with hands,
eternal in the heavens."</p>
<p>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 <i>death."</i></p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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:</p>
<p>"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.</p>
<p>"Will not the best way of replying to this question be to let him speak
for himself?</p>
<p>"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 <i>disliked</i> hearing or reading the words 'Müller's
Orphanage.' In keeping with this, for years, in <i>every Annual Report,</i>
when referring to the Orphanage he reiterated the statement, 'The New
Orphan Houses on Ashley Down, Bristol, are not <i>my</i> Orphan Houses,...
they are God's Orphan Houses.' (See, for example, the Report for 1897,
p. 69.)</p>
<p>"2nd. For years, in fact until he was nearly eighty years old, he
steadily refused to allow any <i>portrait</i> 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.</p>
<p>"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, <i>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.'</i> 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.</p>
<p>"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 <i>above</i> thousands
more to whom it had pleased God to make him a channel of rich spiritual
blessing.</p>
<p>"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 <i>trying</i> to teach them, for they come to
<i>me,</i> instead of going to <i>God.'</i> 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 <i>perpetuate</i> his memory, I can
hear him, with a sigh, exclaiming, 'Ah! these <i>dear</i> friends are
entirely missing the lesson that I tried for seventy years to teach
them,' viz., 'That a <i>man</i> can receive nothing except it be <i>given</i> him
<i>from above,'</i> and that, therefore, it is the Blessed <i>Giver,</i> and not
the poor receiver, that is to be glorified.</p>
<p> "Yours faithfully,
"JAMES WRIGHT."</p>
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