few have so
completely abandoned themselves to that care. He dared to trust Him,
with whom the hairs of our head are all numbered, and who touchingly
reminds us that He cares for what has been quaintly called _"the odd
sparrow."_ Matthew records (x. 29) how two sparrows are sold for a
farthing, and Luke (xii. 6) how five are sold for two farthings; and so
it would appear that, when two farthings were offered, an odd sparrow
was thrown in, as of so little value that it could be given away with
the other four. And yet even for that one sparrow, not worth taking into
account in the bargain, _God cares._ Not one of them is forgotten before
God, or falls to the ground without Him. With what force then comes the
assurance: "Fear ye not therefore; ye are of more value than many
sparrows!"

So George Muller found it to be. He was permitted henceforth to know as
never before, and as few others have ever learned, how truly God may be
approached as "Thou that hearest prayer." God can keep His trusting
children not only from falling but from stumbling; for, during all those
after-years that spanned the lifetime of two generations, there was no
drawing back. Those precious promises, which in faith and hope were
"laid hold" of in 1830, were "held fast" until the end. (Heb. vi. 18, x.
23.) And the divine faithfulness proved a safe anchorage-ground in the
most prolonged and violent tempests. The anchor of hope, sure and
steadfast, and entering into that within the veil, was never dragged
from its secure hold on God. In fifty thousand cases, Mr. Muller
calculated that he could trace distinct answers to definite prayers; and
in multitudes of instances in which God's care was not definitely
traced, it was day by day like an encompassing passing but invisible
presence or atmosphere of life and strength.

On August 9, 1831, Mrs. Muller gave birth to a stillborn babe, and for
six weeks remained seriously ill. Her husband meanwhile laments that his
heart was so cold and carnal, and his prayers often so hesitating and
formal; and he detects, even behind his zeal for God, most unspiritual
frames. He especially chides himself for not having more seriously
thought of the peril of child-bearing, so as to pray more earnestly for
his wife; and he saw clearly that the prospect of parenthood had not
been rejoiced in as a blessing, but rather as implying a new burden and
hindrance in the Lord's work.

While this man of God lays bare his heart in his