<center><h3>CHAPTER XXII<br/> A GLANCE AT THE GIFTS AND THE GIVERS</h3></center>
<p>THERE is One who still sits over against the Treasury, watching the
gifts cast into it, and impartially weighing their worth, estimating the
rich man's millions and the widow's mites, not by the amount given, but
by the motives which impel and the measure of self-sacrifice accepted
for the Lord's sake.</p>
<p>The ample supplies poured into Mr. Müller's hands came alike from those
who had abundance of wealth and from those whose only abundance was that
of deep poverty, but the rills as well as the rivers were from God. It
is one of the charms of this life-story to observe the variety of
persons and places, sums of money and forms of help, connected with the
donations made to the Lord's work; and the exact adaptation between the
need and the supply, both as to time and amount. Some instances of this
have been given in the historic order; but to get a more complete view
of the lessons which they suggest it is helpful to classify some of the
striking and impressive examples, which are so abundant, and which
afford such valuable hints as to the science and the art of giving.</p>
<p>Valuable lessons may be drawn from the beautiful spirit shown by givers
and from the secret history of their gifts.</p>
<p>In some cases the facts were not known till long after, even by Mr.
Müller himself; and when known, could not be disclosed to the public
while the parties were yet alive. But when it became possible and proper
to unveil these hidden things they were revealed for the glory of God
and the good of others, and shine on the pages of this record like stars
in the sky. Paul rejoiced in the free-will offerings of Philippian
disciples, not because he desired a gift, but fruit that might abound to
their account; not because their offerings ministered to his necessity,
but because they became a sacrifice of a sweet smell acceptable, well
pleasing to God. Such joy constantly filled Mr. Müller's heart. He was
daily refreshed and reinvigorated by the many proofs that the gifts
received had been first sanctified by prayer and self-denial. He lived
and breathed amid the fragrance of sweet-savour offerings, permitted for
more than threescore years to participate in the joy of the Lord Himself
over the cheerful though often costly gifts of His people. By reason of
identification with his Master, the servant caught the sweet scent of
these sacrifices as their incense rose from His altars toward heaven.
Even on earth the self-denials of his own life found compensation in
thus acting in the Lord's behalf in receiving and disbursing these
gifts; and, he says, "the Lord thus impressed on me from the beginning
that the orphan houses and work were HIS, <i>not</i> MINE."</p>
<p>Many a flask of spikenard, very precious, broken upon the feet of the
Saviour, for the sake of the orphans, or the feeding of starving souls
with the Bread of Life, filled the house with the odour of the ointment,
so that to dwell there was to breathe a hallowed atmosphere of devotion.</p>
<p>Among the first givers to the work was a poor needlewoman, who, to Mr.
Müller's surprise, brought <i>one hundred pounds.</i> She earned by her work
only an <i>average, per week,</i> of <i>three shillings and sixpence,</i> and was
moreover weak in body. A small legacy of less than five hundred pounds
from her grandmother's estate had come to her at her father's death by
the conditions of her grandmother's will. But that father had died a
drunkard and a bankrupt, and her brothers and sisters had settled with
his creditors by paying them five shillings to the pound. To her
conscience, this seemed robbing the creditors of three fourths of their
claim, and, though they had no legal hold upon her, she privately paid
them the other fifteen shillings to the pound, of the unpaid debts of
her father. Moreover, when her unconverted brother and two sisters gave
each fifty pounds to the widowed mother, she as a child of God felt that
she should give double that amount. By this time her own share of the
legacy was reduced to a small remainder, and it was out of this that she
gave the one hundred pounds for the orphan work!</p>
<p>As Mr. Müller's settled principle was <i>never to grasp eagerly at any
gift whatever the need or the amount of the gift,</i> before accepting this
money he had a long conversation with this woman, seeking to prevent her
from giving either from an unsanctified motive or in unhallowed haste,
without counting the cost. He would in such a case dishonour his Master
by accepting the gift, as though God were in need of our offerings.
Careful scrutiny, however, revealed no motives not pure and Christlike;
this woman had calmly and deliberately reached her decision. "The Lord
Jesus," she said, "has given His last drop of blood for me, and should I
not give Him this hundred pounds?" He who comes into contact with such
givers in his work for God finds therein a means of grace.</p>
<p>This striking incident lends a pathetic interest to the beginnings of
the orphan work, and still more as we further trace the story of this
humble needlewoman. She had been a habitual giver, but so unobtrusively
that, while she lived, not half a dozen people knew of either the legacy
or of this donation. Afterward, however, it came to the light that in
many cases she had quietly and most unostentatiously given food,
clothing, and like comforts to the deserving poor. Her gifts were so
disproportionate to her means that her little capital rapidly
diminished. Mr. Müller was naturally very reluctant to accept what she
brought, until he saw that the love of Christ constrained her. He could
then do no less than to receive her offering, in his Master's name,
while like the Master he exclaimed, "O woman, great is thy faith!"</p>
<p>Five features made her benevolence praiseworthy. First, all these deeds
of charity were done in secret and without any show; and she therefore
was kept humble, not puffed up with pride through human applause; her
personal habits of dress and diet remained as simple after her legacy as
before, and to the last she worked with her needle for her own support;
and, finally, while her <i>earnings</i> were counted in shillings and pence,
her <i>givings</i> were counted in sovereigns or five-pound notes, and in one
case by the hundred pounds. Her money was entirely gone, years before
she was called higher, but the faithful God never forgot His promise: "I
will never leave thee nor forsake thee." Never left to want, even after
bodily weakness forbade her longer to ply her needle, she asked no human
being for help, but in whatever straits made her appeal to God, and was
not only left to suffer no lack, but, in the midst of much bodily
suffering, her mouth was filled with holy song.</p>
<p>Mr. Müller records the <i>first bequest</i> as from a dear lad who died in
the faith. During his last illness, he had received a gift of some new
silver coins; and he asked that this, his only treasure in money, might
be sent for the orphans. With pathetic tenderness Mr. Müller adds that
this precious little legacy of <i>six shillings sixpence halfpenny,</i>
received September 15, 1837, was the first they ever had. Those who
estimate all donations by money-worth can little understand how welcome
such a bequest was; but to such a man this small donation, bequeathed by
one of Christ's little ones, and representing all he possessed, was of
inestimable worth.</p>
<p>In May, 1842, a gold watch and chain were accompanied by a brief note,
the contents of which suggest the possibilities of service, open to us
through the voluntary limitation of artificial or imaginary wants. The
note reads thus: "A pilgrim does not want such a watch as this to make
him happy; one of an inferior kind will do to show him how swiftly time
flies, and how fast he is hastening on to that Canaan where time will be
no more: so that it is for you to do with this what it seemeth good to
you. It is the last relic of earthly vanity, and, while I am in the
body, may I be kept from all idolatry!"</p>
<p>In March, 1884, a contribution reached Mr. Müller from one who had been
enabled in a like spirit to increase the amount over all previous gifts
by the sale of some jewelry which had been put away in accordance with 1
Peter iii. 3. How much superfluous ornament, worn by disciples, might be
blessedly sacrificed for the Lord's sake! The one ornament which is in
His sight of great price would shine with far more lustre if it were the
only one worn.</p>
<p>Another instance of turning all things to account was seen in the case
of a giver who sent a box containing four old crown pieces which had a
curious history. They were the wedding-day present of a bridegroom to
his bride, who, reluctant to spend her husband's first gift, kept them
until she passed them over, as heirlooms, to her four grand-children.
They were thus at last put out to usury, after many years of gathering
"rust" in hoarded idleness and uselessness. Little did bridegroom or
bride foresee how these coins, after more than a hundred years, would
come forth from their hiding-place to be put to the Lord's uses. Few
people have ever calculated how much is lost to every good cause by the
simple withdrawal of money from circulation. Those four crown pieces had
they been carefully invested, so as to double in value, by compound
interest, every ten years, would have increased to one thousand pounds
during the years they had lain idle!</p>
<p>One gift was sent in, as an offering to the Lord, instead of being used
to purchase an engagement-ring by two believers who desired their lives
to be united by that highest bond, the mutual love of the Lord who
spared not His own blood for them.</p>
<p>At another time, a box came containing a new satin jacket, newly bought,
but sacrificed as a snare to pride. Its surrender marked an epoch, for
henceforth the owner determined to spend in dress only what is needful,
and not waste the Lord's money on costly apparel. Enlightened believers
look on all things as inalienably God's, and, even in the voluntary
diversion of money into sacred rather than selfish channels, still
remember that they give to Him only what is His own! "The little child
feels proud that he can drop the money into the box after the parent has
supplied the means, and told him to do so; and so God's children are
sometimes tempted to think that they are giving of their own, and to be
proud over their gifts, forgetting the divine Father who both gives us
all we have and bids us give all back to Him."</p>
<p>A gift of two thousand pounds on January 29,1872, was accompanied by a
letter confessing that the possession of property had given the writer
much trouble of mind, and it had been disposed of from a conviction that
the Lord "saw it not good" for him to <i>hold so much</i> and therefore
allowed its possession to be a curse rather than a blessing. Fondness
for possessions always entails curse, and external riches thus become a
source of internal poverty. It is doubtful whether any child of God ever
yet hoarded wealth without losing in spiritual attainment and enjoyment.
Greed is one of the lowest and most destructive of vices and turns a man
into the likeness of the coin he worships, making him hard, cold,
metallic, and unsympathetic, so that, as has been quaintly said, he
drops into his coffin "with a chink."</p>
<p>God estimates what we <i>give</i> by what we <i>keep,</i> for it is possible to
bestow large sums and yet reserve so much larger amounts that no
self-denial is possible. Such giving to the Lord <i>costs us nothing.</i></p>
<p>In 1853, a brother in the Lord took out of his pocket a roll of
bank-notes, amounting to one hundred and ten pounds, and put it into Mr.
Müller's hand, it being <i>more than one half of his entire worldly
estate.</i> Such giving is an illustration of self-sacrifice on a large
scale, and brings corresponding blessing.</p>
<p>The <i>motives</i> prompting gifts were often unusually suggestive. In
October, 1857, a donation came from a Christian merchant who, having
sustained a heavy pecuniary loss, <i>wished to sanctify his loss by a gift
to the Lord's work.</i> Shortly after, another offering was handed in by a
young man in thankful remembrance that twenty-five years before Mr.
Müller had prayed over him, as a child, that God would convert him. Yet
another gift, of thirty-five hundred pounds, came to him in 1858, with a
letter stating that the giver had further purposed to give to the orphan
work the chief preference in his will, but had now seen it to be far
better to <i>act as his own executor</i> and give the whole amount while he
lived. Immense advantage would accrue, both to givers and to the causes
they purpose to promote, were this principle generally adopted! There is
"many a slip betwixt the cup" of the legator and "the lip" of the
legatee. Even a wrong wording of a will has often forfeited or defeated
the intent of a legacy. Mr. Müller had to warn intending donors that
nothing that was reckoned as real estate was available for legacies for
charitable institutions, nor even money lent on real estate or in any
other way derived therefrom. These conditions no longer exist, but they
illustrate the ease with which a will may often be made void, and the
design of a bequest be defeated.</p>
<p>Many donors were led to send thank-offerings for <i>avoided</i> or <i>averted
calamities:</i> as, for example, for a sick horse, given up by the
veterinary surgeon as lost, but which recovered in answer to prayer.
Another donor, who broke his left arm, sends grateful acknowledgment to
God that it was not the <i>right</i> arm, or some more vital part like the
head or neck.</p>
<p>The offerings were doubly precious because of the unwearied faithfulness
of God who manifestly prompted them, and who kept speaking to the hearts
of thousands, leading them to give so abundantly and constantly that no
want was unsupplied. In 1859, so great were the outlays of the work that
if day by day, during the whole three hundred and sixty-five, fifty
pounds had been received, the income would not have been more than
enough. Yet in a surprising variety and number of ways, and from persons
and places no less numerous and various, donations came in. Not one of
twenty givers was personally known to Mr. Müller, and no one of all
contributors had ever been asked for a gift, and yet, up to November,
1858, over <i>six hundred thousand pounds</i> had already been received, and
in amounts varying from eighty-one hundred pounds down to a single
farthing.</p>
<p>Unique circumstances connected with some donations made them remarkable.
While resting at Ilfracombe, in September, 1865, a gentleman gave to Mr.
Müller a sum of money, at the same time narrating the facts which led to
the gift. He was a hard-working business man, wont to doubt the reality
of spiritual things, and strongly questioned the truth of the narrative
of answered prayers which he had read from Mr. Müller's pen. But, in
view of the simple straightforward story, he could not rest in his
doubts, and at last proposed to himself a test as to whether or not God
was indeed with Mr. Müller, as he declared. He wished to buy a certain
property if rated at a reasonable valuation; and he determined, if he
should secure it at the low price which he set for himself, he would
give to him one hundred pounds. He authorized a bid to be put in, in his
behalf, but, curious to get the earliest information as to the success
of his venture, he went himself to the place of sale, and was surprised
to find the property actually knocked off to him at his own price.
Astonished at what he regarded as a proof that God was really working
with Mr. Müller and for him, he made up his mind to go in person and pay
over the sum of money to him, and so make his acquaintance and see the
man whose prayers God answered. Not finding him at Bristol, he had
followed him to Ilfracombe.</p>
<p>Having heard his story, and having learned that he was from a certain
locality, Mr. Müller remarked upon the frequent proofs of God's strange
way of working on the minds of parties wholly unknown to him and leading
them to send in gifts; and he added: "I had a letter from a lawyer in
your very neighbourhood, shortly since, asking for the proper form for a
bequest, as a client of his, not named, wished to leave one thousand
pounds to the orphan work." It proved that the man with whom he was then
talking was this nameless client, who, being convinced that his doubts
were wrong, had decided to provide for this legacy.</p>
<p>In August, 1884, a Christian brother from the United States called to
see Mr. Müller. He informed him how greatly he had been blessed of God
through reading his published testimony to God's faithfulness; and that
having, through his sister's death, come into the possession of some
property, he had <i>come across the sea,</i> that he might see the orphan
houses and know their founder, for himself, and hand over to him for the
Lord's work the entire bequest of about seven hundred pounds.</p>
<p>Only seventeen days later, a letter accompanying a donation gave further
joy to Mr. Müller's heart. It was from the husband of one of the orphans
who, in her seventeenth year, had left the institution, and to whom Mr.
Müller himself, on her departure, had given the first two volumes of the
Reports. Her husband had read them with more spiritual profit than any
volume except the Book of books, and had found his faith much
strengthened. Being a lay preacher in the Methodist Free Church, the
blessed impulses thus imparted to himself were used of God to inspire a
like self-surrender in the class under his care.</p>
<p>These are a few examples of the countless encouragements that led Mr.
Müller, as he reviewed them, to praise God unceasingly.</p>
<p>A Christian physician enclosed ten pounds in a letter, telling how first
he tried a religion of mere duty and failed; then, after a severe
illness, learned a religion of love, apprehending the love of God to
himself in Christ and so learning how to love others. In his days of
darkness he had been a great lover of flowers and had put up several
plant-houses; flower-culture was his hobby, and a fine collection of
rare plants, his pride. He took down and sold one of these
conservatories and sent the proceeds as <i>"the price of an idol,</i> cast
down by God's power." Another giver enclosed a like amount from the sale
of unnecessary books and pictures; and a poor man his half-crown, "the
fruit of a little tree in his garden."</p>
<p>A poor woman, who had devoted the progeny of a pet rabbit to the orphan
work, when the young became fit for sale changed her mind and "kept back
a part of the price"; <i>that part,</i> however, <i>two rabbits,</i> she found
<i>dead</i> on the day when they were to be sold.</p>
<p>In July, 1877, ten pounds from an anonymous source were accompanied by a
letter which conveys another instructive lesson. Years before, the
writer had resolved before God to discontinue a doubtful habit, and send
the cost of his indulgence to the Institution. The vow, made in time of
trouble, was unpaid until God brought the sin to remembrance by a new
trouble, and by a special message from the Word: "Grieve not the Spirit
of God." The victory was then given over the habit, and, the practice
having annually cost about twenty-six shillings, the full amount was
sent to cover the period during which the solemn covenant had not been
kept, with the promise of further gifts in redemption of the same
promise to the Lord. This instance conveys more than one lesson. It
reminds us of the costliness of much of our self-indulgence. Sir Michael
Hicks-Beach, in submitting the Budget for 1897, remarked that what is
annually wasted in the unsmoked remnants of cigars and cigarettes in
Britain is estimated at a million and a quarter pounds—the equivalent
of all that is annually spent on foreign missions by British Christians.
And many forms of self-gratification, in no way contributing to either
health or profit, would, if what they cost were dedicated to the Lord,
make His treasuries overflow. Again, this incident reminds us of the
many vows, made in time of trouble, which have no payment in time of
relief. Many sorrows come back, like clouds that return after the rain,
to remind of broken pledges and unfulfilled obligations, whereby we have
grieved the Holy Spirit of God. "Pay that which thou hast vowed; for God
hath no pleasure in fools." And again we are here taught how a sensitive
and enlightened conscience will make restitution to God as well as to
man; and that past unfaithfulness to a solemn covenant cannot be made
good merely by keeping to its terms <i>for the future.</i> No honest man
dishonours a past debt, or compromises with his integrity by simply
beginning anew and paying as he goes. Reformation takes a retrospective
glance and begins in restitution and reparation for all previous wrongs
and unfaithfulness. It is one of the worst evils of our day that even
disciples are so ready to bury the financial and moral debts of their
past life in the grave of a too-easy oblivion.</p>
<p>One donor, formerly living in Tunbridge Wells, followed a principle of
giving, the reverse of the worldly way. As his own family increased,
instead of decreasing his gifts, he gave, for each child given to him of
God, the average cost of maintaining one orphan, until, having seven
children, he was supporting seven orphans.</p>
<p>An anonymous giver wrote: "It was my idea that when a man had sufficient
for his own wants, he ought then to supply the wants of others, and
consequently I never had sufficient. I now clearly see that God expects
us to give of what we have and not of what we have not, and to leave the
rest to Him. I therefore give in faith and love, knowing that if I first
seek the kingdom of God and His righteousness, all other things will be
added unto me."</p>
<p>Another sends five pounds in fulfillment of a secret promise that, if he
succeeded in passing competitive examination for civil service, he would
make a thank-offering. And he adds that Satan had repeatedly tried to
persuade him that he could not afford it yet, and could send it better
in a little while. Many others have heard the same subtle suggestion
from the same master of wiles and father of lies. Postponement in giving
is usually its practical abandonment, for the habit of procrastination
grows with insensibly rapid development.</p>
<p>Habitual givers generally witnessed to the conscious blessedness of
systematic giving. Many who began by giving a tenth, and perhaps in a
legal spirit, felt constrained, by the growing joy of imparting, to
increase, not the amount only, but the proportion, to a fifth, a fourth,
a third, and even a half of their profits. Some wholly reversed the law
of appropriation with which they began; for at first they gave a tithe
to the Lord's uses, reserving nine tenths, whereas later on they
appropriated nine tenths to the Lord's uses, and reserved for themselves
only a tithe. Those who learn the deep meaning of our Lord's words, "It
is more blessed to give than to receive," find such joy in holding all
things at His disposal that even personal expenditures are subjected to
the scrutiny of conscience and love, lest anything be wasted in
extravagance or careless self-indulgence. Frances Ridley Havergal in her
later years felt herself and all she possessed to be so fully and
joyfully given up to God, that she never went into a shop to spend a
shilling without asking herself whether it would be for God's glory.</p>
<p>Gifts were valued by Mr. Müller only so far as they were the Lord's
money, procured by lawful means and given in the Lord's own way. To the
last his course was therefore most conscientious in the caution with
which he accepted offerings even in times of sorest extremity.</p>
<p>In October, 1842, he felt led to offer aid to a sister who seemed in
great distress and destitution, offering to share with her, if need be,
even his house and purse.</p>
<p>This offer drew out the acknowledgment that she had some five hundred
pounds of her own; and her conversation revealed that this money was
held as a provision against possible future want, and that she was
leaning upon that instead of upon God. Mr. Müller said but little to
her, but after her withdrawal he besought the Lord to make so real to
her the exhaustless riches she possessed in Christ, and her own heavenly
calling, that she might be constrained to lay down at His feet the whole
sum which was thus a snare to her faith and an idol to her love. <i>Not a
word spoken or written passed between him and her on the subject, nor
did he even see her;</i> his express desire being that if any such step
were to be taken by her, it might result from no human influence or
persuasion, lest her subsequent regret might prove both a damage to
herself and a dishonour to her Master.</p>
<p>For nearly four weeks, however, he poured out his heart to God for her
deliverance from greed. Then she again sought an interview and told him
how she had been day by day seeking to learn the will of God as to this
hoarded sum, and had been led to a clear conviction that it should be
laid entire upon His altar. Thus the goodly sum of five hundred pounds
was within so easy reach, at a time of very great need, that a word from
Mr. Müller would secure it. Instead of saying that word, he exhorted her
to make no such disposition of the money at that time, but to count the
cost; to do nothing rashly lest she should repent it, but wait at least
a fortnight more before reaching a final decision. His correspondence
with this sister may be found fully spread out in his journal,* and is a
model of devout carefulness lest he should snatch at a gift that might
be prompted by wrong motives or given with an unprepared heart. When
finally given, unexpected hindrances arose affecting her actual
possession and transfer, so that more than a third of a year elapsed
before it was received; but meanwhile there was on his part neither
impatience nor distrust, nor did he even communicate further with her.
To the glory of God let it be added that she afterward bore cheerful
witness that never for one moment did she regret giving the whole sum to
His service, and thus transferring her trust from the money to the
Master.</p>
<p>* Narrative, I. 487 <i>et seq.</i></p>
<p>In August, 1853, a poor widow of sixty, who had sold the little house
which constituted her whole property, put into an orphan-house box
elsewhere, for Mr. Müller, the entire proceeds, ninety pounds. Those who
conveyed it to Mr. Müller, knowing the circumstances, urged her to
retain at least a part of this sum, and prevailed on her to keep five
pounds and sent on the other eighty-five. Mr. Müller, learning the
facts, and fearing lest the gift might result from a sudden impulse to
be afterward regretted, offered to pay her travelling expenses that he
might have an interview with her. He found her mind had been quite made
up for ten years before the house was sold that such disposition should
be made of the proceeds. But he was the more reluctant to accept the
gift lest, as she had already been prevailed on to take back five pounds
of the original donation, she might wish she had reserved more; and only
after much urgency had failed to persuade her to reconsider the step
would he accept it. Even then, however, lest he should be evil spoken of
in the matter, he declined to receive any part of the gift for personal
uses.</p>
<p>In October, 1867, a small sum was sent in by one who had years before
taken it from another, and who desired thus to <i>make restitution,</i>
believing that the Christian believer from whom it was taken would
approve of this method of restoring it. Mr. Müller promptly returned it,
irrespective of amount, that restitution might be made directly to the
party who had been robbed or wronged, claiming that such party should
first receive it and then dispose of it as might seem fit. As it did not
belong to him who took it, it was not his to give even in another's
behalf.</p>
<p>During a season of great straits Mr. Müller received a sealed parcel
containing money. He knew from whom it came, and that the donor was a
woman not only involved in debt, but frequently asked by creditors for
their lawful dues in vain. It was therefore clear that it was not <i>her</i>
money, and therefore not hers to <i>give;</i> and without even opening the
paper wrapper he returned it to the sender—and this at a time when
there was <i>not in hand enough to meet the expenses of that very day.</i> In
June, 1838, a stranger, who confessed to an act of fraud, wished through
Mr. Müller to make restitution, with interest; and, instead of sending
the money by post, Mr. Müller took pains to transmit it by bank orders,
which thus enabled him, in case of need, to prove his fidelity in acting
as a medium of transmission—an instance of the often-quoted maxim that
it is the honest man who is most careful to provide things honest in the
sight of all men.</p>
<p>Money sent as proceeds of a musical entertainment held for the benefit
of the orphans in the south of Devon was politely returned, Mr. Müller
had no doubt of the kind intention of those who set this scheme on foot,
but he felt that money for the work of God <i>should not be obtained in
this manner,</i> and he desired only money provided in God's way.</p>
<p>Friends who asked that they might know whether their gifts had come at a
particularly opportune time were referred to the next Report for answer.
To acknowledge that the help came very seasonably would be an indirect
revelation of need, and might be construed into an indirect appeal for
more aid—as help that was peculiarly timely would soon be exhausted.
And so this man of God consistently avoided any such disclosure of an
exigency, lest his chief object should be hindered, namely, "to show how
blessed it is to deal with God alone, and to trust Him in the darkest
moments." And though the need was continual, and one demand was no
sooner met than another arose, he did not find this a trying life nor
did he ever tire of it.</p>
<p>As early as May, 1846, a letter from a brother contained the following
paragraph:</p>
<p>"With regard to property, I do not see my way clearly. I trust it is all
indeed at the disposal of the Lord; and, if you would let me know of any
need of it in His service, any sum under two hundred pounds shall be at
your disposal at about a week's notice."</p>
<p>The need at that time was great. How easy and natural to write back that
the orphan work was then in want of help, and that, as Mr. Müller was
just going away from Bristol for rest, it would be a special comfort if
his correspondent would send on, say a hundred and ninety pounds or so!
But to deal with the Lord alone in the whole matter seemed so
indispensable, both for the strengthening of his own faith and for the
effectiveness of his testimony to the church and the world, that at once
this temptation was seen to be a snare, and he replied that only to the
Lord could the need of any part of the work be confided.</p>
<p><i>Money to be laid up</i> as a fund for his old age or possible seasons of
illness or family emergencies was always declined. Such a donation of
one hundred pounds was received October 12, 1856, with a note so
considerate and Christian that the subtle temptation to lay up for
himself treasures on earth would have triumphed but for a heart fixed
immovably in the determination that there should be no dependence upon
any such human provision. He had settled the matter beyond raising the
question again, that he would live from day to day upon the Lord's
bounty, and would make but <i>one investment,</i> namely, using whatever
means God gave, to supply the necessities of the poor, depending on God
richly to repay him in the hour of his own need, according to the
promise:</p>
<p> "He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord;
And that which he hath given will He pay him again."
Proverbs xix. 17.</p>
<p>God so owned, at once, this disposition on Mr. Müller's part that his
courteous letter, declining the gift for himself, led the donor not only
to ask him to use the hundred pounds for the orphan work, but to add to
this sum a further gift of two hundred pounds more.</p>
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