This great man died at the very early age of twenty-seven, having preached seven years. But from the very first he produced a profound impression. Dr. Bethune thus describes one of his earliest efforts in this country. He was then scarcely known. It was at an anniversary of the Bible Society, and an able man had just spoken with great acceptance:
“The chair announced the Rev. Mr. Summerfield, from England. ‘What presumption!’ said my clerical neighbor; ‘a boy like that to be set up after a giant!’ But the stripling came in the name of the God of Israel, armed with ‘a few smooth stones from the brook’ that flows ‘hard by the oracles of God.’ His motion was one of thanks to the officers of the society for their labors during the year; and of course he had to allude to the president, then reposing in another part of the house; and thus he did it: ‘When I saw that venerable man, too aged to warrant the hope of being with you at another anniversary, he reminded me of Jacob leaning upon the top of his staff, blessing his children before he departed.’ He then passed on to encourage the society by the example of the British institution. ‘When we first launched our untried vessel upon the deep, the storms of opposition roared, and the waves dashed angrily around us, and we had hard work to keep her head to the wind. We were faint with rowing, and our strength would soon have been gone, but we cried, ‘Lord, save us, or we perish!’ Then a light shone upon the waters, and we saw a form walking upon the troubled sea, like unto that of the Son of God, and he drew near the ship, and we knew that it was Jesus; and he stepped upon the deck, and laid his hand upon the helm, and he said unto the winds and waves, Peace, be still, and there was a great calm. Let not the friends of the Bible fear; God is in the midst of us. God shall help us, and that right early.’ In such a strain he went on to the close. ‘Wonderful! wonderful!’ said my neighbor the critic; ‘he talks like an angel from heaven.’”
C. H. SPURGEON.
No minister now living has been heard by so many people in the same number of years, or has been the subject of so much controversy as Spurgeon. The great populace of London has been moved to its depths by his preaching, and he has met with the same enthusiastic reception wherever he has preached. He is yet very young—only thirty-four years of age—and had become celebrated before he was twenty-one. Such speedy recognition is certainly a proof of great merit, and his example is well worth our attention.
Spurgeon’s parents were poor but respectable—his father and grandfather being Independent ministers. He early felt it his duty to preach, and even when a child was accustomed to preach to his playmates. His father wished him to go to college to qualify himself for the work in regular form, but after giving the matter careful consideration he declined. Even when he became usher at Cambridge, and began to preach occasionally, he refused the tempting offer of a college course, and gave it as his opinion that he was called to go to the work at once, and not to waste years in preparation. We can hardly tell what effect a long course of training, that would have allowed time for his fervid zeal to cool, would have had upon his after life. About the same time he left the church of his fathers and united with the Baptists, believing that immersion was the proper baptism. His occasional ministrations were marked by modesty and good sense, as well as loving earnestness.
He was soon called to take charge of an old, but decayed church in London. Its forlorn condition did not dismay him, and under his vigorous care and mighty preaching the congregation became overflowing. The building was enlarged, but the congregation grew still larger. Immense public halls were taken, and these too were soon overflowed. His congregation built a new church of extraordinary size, which has been packed full on each preaching occasion ever since. Several volumes of his sermons have been published, and have met with a ready sale. He preaches nearly a sermon a day, corresponds with a newspaper, writes books, superintends a ministerial school, speaks for and aids a number of charitable institutions—altogether performing more labor than perhaps any other preacher of our day. Yet these multiform labors are performed with such ease and certainty that he hardly ever appears tired, and gives no indication of breaking down.
What is the secret of the power by which this man has reached the hearts of the poor more fully than any other man for many years? It is admitted on all hands that he is not a man of profound intellect. There is no trace of unusual powers of thought either in his published or spoken sermons. But there is a more than ordinary force of arrangement, illustration and expression. He may not be in the first class of great men, but he is surely foremost in the second class. He also possesses wonderful enthusiasm. His faith is too clear for a doubt, and he is never troubled with any misgivings regarding his own power of presenting the truth. Confidence is a part of his nature, and enables him to bear unmoved any amount of opposition, and, while preaching, to follow out any suggestions of his genius. His power of language is very great. From beginning to end of his discourse he never falters, nor uses the wrong word. His voice is strong, clear, and melodious, making the tritest thought interesting. But above all, he is a good man, and works solely for the good of his hearers. This is the reason why he is not intoxicated by his great success. He feels that the Holy Spirit labors with him, and that the blessing of God rests upon him.
Spurgeon is an extempore preacher in the best sense of the word. He studies and meditates as fully as his time will permit, and at any period is ready to give what he thus masters to the public. “I can’t make out,” said a minister to him, “when you study, Brother Spurgeon. When do you make your sermons?” “Oh!” he replied, “I am always studying—I am sucking in something from everything. If you were to ask me home to dine with you, I should suck a sermon out of you.” One who had known him, thus writes:
“With respect to his habits of composition, he assured us that not one word of his sermons is written before delivery, and that the only use he makes of his pen upon them is to correct the errors of the stenographer. His happy faculty of mere mental composition, and of remembering what he thus composes, saves him much time and drudgery. He can exercise it anywhere; but probably with more success in the pulpit, while he is giving utterance to what he has prearranged in his mind. Learning not to read manuscript out of the pulpit is the best preparation for not reading it in the pulpit, and he who in his study can think well, independently of it, will, in the pulpit, think better without it; for the excitement occasioned by speaking what he has premeditated—if that excitement does not produce too deep feeling—will summon new thoughts to fill up the old ranks, and lead whole divisions of fresh recruits into the field.”
The almost irresistible attraction of Spurgeon’s ministrations may be inferred from the following facts: