Glimpses of Essex and Cambridgeshire Life, 1853
It has been my privilege and joy, sometimes, to tarry for a little season amongst the lowly. I have had a seat given me in the chimney corner, and, by-and-by, as the time to retire for the night drew nigh, the good man of the house has said to me, ‘’Now, sir, will you kindly read for us to-night, as you are here?” And I have noticed the faces of the little group around me, as I have read some portion like this, “Truly, God is good to Israel, even to such as are of a clean heart.” Then I have said to the lather of the family, “I will not lead you in prayer this time; you must be priest in your own house, and yourself pray.’’ So the good man has prayed for his children, and when I have seen them rise up from their knees, and kiss their parent for the night, I have thought, “Well, if this is the kind of family that the religion of Jesus Christ makes, ‘let the whole earth be tilled with His glory.’ For the present blessedness and for the eternal happiness of man, let God’s Kingdom come, and let I Us will be done on earth even as it is -lone in Heaven.” — C. II. S.
VAS delighted, one Sabbath evening in the year 1853, when driving from the village where I had supplied for a minister, to see in one place a father, with four or five little ones about him, sitting on a small plot of grass before the cottage door. He had a large Bible on his knee, and the children also had their Bibles; and he in the midst was holding his finger up, with all solemnity and earnestness, in simple style endeavouring to enforce some sacred truth. It was a road but little frequented on the Sabbath-day, and I should hope that scarcely a rumblinoor rattliiv noise was heard there on the holy day of rest, saving the gig
£y O
bearing the minister to and from the place of his labour, or other vehicles carrying devout worshippers to the house of God. It appeared almost a sacrilege to drive
by, although I was returning from a sacred errand, — it seemed a pity to break
the spell even for a moment, and to take the eyes and the attention of the little ones for an instant from such sweet employment. A little further was a house which had a small workshop adjoining it. The door was open, so I could see that no one was inside; but there stood a chest, and on it lay a Bible of the largest kind, and on the floor below was a cushion which still bore the impress of knees which, I trust, had been bent in wrestling prayer. Perhaps a mother had there been begging at the Redeemer’s hands the souls of her dearly-beloved children; or possibly, some son, in answer to that mother’s prayer, had been secretly pouring out his heart, and crying for mercy from the hands of God. Yet once more, I saw a little girl spelling over to her parents the words of the Book of Truth, and I felt constrained to pray that the daughter and the lowly pair might all be able to read their titles clear to mansions in the skies. I have seen hills and forests, vales and rivers, fine buildings and
286 c. H. STURGEON’S AUTOBIOGRAI’IIV.
romantic ruins, but never, never have I seen a sight more simple, more beautiful, nor more sublime. Blest households, of which these things can be written! May you not be solitary instances, but may God raise up thousands like unto you!
Household piety is the very cream of piety. There is no place in which religion so sweetly opens all its charms as in the: family gathered round the hearth. Yho does not admire the house where, at the hour of prayer, all are assembled, and the head of the: household reads from the sacred page the Word of Inspiration, and then all on bended knee seek for a blessing on themselves that day, or in joyful strains give thanks to Heaven for the manifold mercies so freely and so constantly dispensed? Who, on the other hand, can refrain from pitying the family where the day is a round of duties begun and ended without one prayer to God, — no place where all may come together in supplication, and feel as one, — no way for the parent to express his thoughts of love for the souls of his offspring? I know the sweetness of kneeling at eventide beneath the paternal roof, and hearing my father say, “Lord, we bless Thee that our son has again returned to us in health and strength; and, after an absence from each other, we praise Thee that we now meet an unbroken circle. Oh, our God, we beg most earnestly of Thee that we may all meet around the: throne in Heaven, not one being left behind!” The father’s words are all but choked in their utterance whilst he weeps tears of joy to think that his lirst-born is walking in the ways of God, and the mother sobs aloud, and her tears are falling, big with gratitude, that once more she is kneeling beside her son, the delight of her eyes, whilst the whole tribe are around her secure: from death and ill.
I pity the wretch without a chair or bed on which to rest his weary limbs; I pity the miserable: creature: who shivers in the wintry blast, and finds no fire to give the needed heat; but 1 pity far more the: homeless creature — for he is truly homeless,- — who has no altar, no family prayer. Half the- happiness is absent where this is neglected. I despise unmeaning formality, but this is no form. Spoiler, lay not thy ruthless hand on this most sacred thing! Rather let the queen of night forget to rise with all her train of stars than that family devotion should even begin to be neglected. The glory of Britain is her religion, and one of religion’s choicest treasures is the Christian home. Who is so foolishly alarmed as ever to suppose that an invading host w7ill ravage our fair shores when the whole land is studded with castles, — not with turret towers, ’tis true, but yet with places where the God of Jacob dwells, residing as a fire around, a glory in the midst? Go invader, go, the prayer of households will blow thee adown the white cliffs of Albion like chaff before the wind! The flag of old England is nailed to the mast, not by our sailors, but by our God; and He has fastened it there with something stronger than iron, — He has nailed it with the prayers of His people, the fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters, with whom He delights to dwell. Fmm the tents of Jacob arise the fairfooted sons of Zion, who on the mountains stand declaring good tidings of great joy, and from these tabernacles there is gradually gathering a host, glittering and white, who continually praise God and the Lamb.
(The foregoing paragraphs and the two following letters show that Mr. Spurgeon was preaching’ in his native county of Essex twice, if not thrice, or even oftener, during the year 1853. He had treasured, among his most precious papers of those early “days, evidently with a view to inclusion in his Autobiography, this characteristic epistle from his venerable grandfather :-
“Dear Charles,
“I just write to say that we hope nothing will occur to prevent our exchange on Sabbath, the 14th of August. Will you come by Broxtccl? If so, your Uncle will bring you to Stambourne. I have hardly made up my mind whether I shall drive through, or leave my pony at my son Obacliah’s; but my intention is to be at Waterbeach on the Wednesday. As you ought to be on the way, and as so many want to see as well as hear you, don’t you stay on my account. I had too much respect manifested to me the last time I was with your good people, so no doubt they will gladly receive me again. I am, and have been ‘for some days, very poorly. ... 1 hope, by the blessing of God, I
shall soon be all right once: more. I must — I ought to expect pains and aches now; yet how natural it is to wish to be free from them! But if this was always the case, it would IK: bad for us, for we should become cold, careless, glued to the world,- pride and self-righteousness would arise within us. But our Saviour’s declaration has gone forth, ‘and cannot be recalled, ‘In the world ye shall have tribulation; in Me, ye shall have peace.’
“With kind love to you, in which all here, if they knew 1 was writing, would
unite,
“Believe me to be,
“Your affectionate grandfather,
-Stambourne, “J- SPURGEON.”
2753.
“N.B. — Some people do not date their letters; I do, and think it quite right.”) * * * *
(Two months later, Mr. Spurgeon wrote, to one of his uncles at Stambourne, the letter printed on the next page. This communication is interesting, not only because of its faithful reference to the ordinance of believers’ baptism, but also from its revelation of the intense longing of the young preacher to be doino- more jord either at home or abroad. Verily, the Holy Spirit, whose comino ardently desired, was preparing- him for the wide sphere of service which was so soon after to open up for him.)
“9, Union Road,
“Cambridge,
;< AT” Sep. 27/53.
My Dear I ncle,
“I have two or three reasons for writing to you just at this time We
baptizing service on October 19, and I should be so glad to see
his Master in the water. I am almost afraid to mention the
t people should charge me with giving it undue prominence; if they will
I can bear it for my Master’s sake. I know you love my Jesus -
and he mention of His name makes the tear rush to your eye, and run down your
Better than wife or child is our Beloved; you can sing, —
Yes, Thou art precious to my soul,
My transport and my trust;
Jen-els to Thee are gaudy toys
And gold is sordid dust.’
“You can lift your eye to Heaven, and, on your bended knee, before the presence of £ Jeer ;XcIaim,” Lord, Thou knowest all things; Thou knowest that I
act forHim” r™ s one eas
tlTriStaeTs “T “PP™!* °f the -^ J^n,,-noo trifle with ecoSnv°kt”ons o!
HHSfi§S^SE»
:hrist commands me to hold up my little finger, and I
C. II. SPURGEOX’S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 2go
do not obey Him, it looks like a coolness in my love to Him; and I feel assured that I should sustain loss by the neglect.
‘’ I will not press the matter as one in authority; I only beg of you, as a friend and a dear friend, as well as a loving relative, not to forget or’ trifle with the commands of One dearer still to me.
Now with regard to coming for a week to preach at Stambourne and neighbouring villages, I am yours to serve to the; utmost ; — not on the Sabbath, but all the I have a good sphere of labour here, but I want to do more, ‘if possible, [here is a great field, and the labourers must work with all their might. I often wish I were in China, India, or Africa, so that I might preach, preach, preach all day long. It would be sweet to die preaching. But I want more of the Holy Spirit; I do not fed enough no, not half enough, -of His Divine energy. ‘Come Holy Spirit, come! Then men must be converted; then the wicked would repent, and the just grow in grace.
“It I come, I shall not mind preaching two evenings in Stambourne if you cannot get other convenient places; and I should love to have some good, thoroughly-hot prayer-meetings after the services. I wish it were possible to preach at” two places in one. evening, but I suppose time would hardly permit me to do that. Consult the friends, send me word, and I am your man.
As to the books, you had better bring them yourself when you come to be baptized. Mr. Elven, of Bury, is going to preach the sermon forme; and, as we have not many candidates this time, we shall all the more value your presence’.
“If you do not come,’, I cross that out, because- you MUST, — then send the books when you can. I left some tracts in Mr. HowelFs gig. I should be obliged
][ y°u wil scc after them if you go to Hedingham. I should like to go there, too, it I come.
You may show grandfather all I have written, if you like, for truth is truth, even if he cannot receive it;- still, I think you had much better not, for it is not at all likely he will ever change an opinion so long rooted in him, and it is never worth while f°r lls to mention it if it will only irritate, and do no good. I wish to live in unity with every believer, whether Calvinist, Arminian (if not impossible), Churchman, Independent, or Wesleyan; and though I firmly believe some of them are tottering! I do not like them well enough to prop them up by my wrangling with them.
‘My best respects and regards to Aunt, — Uncles and Aunts, — cousins, — grandfather,- -Mr. Unwin, Will Richardson, and all the good people in Stambourne, not excepting yourself.
“I am,
“Yours most truly,
“C. If. STURGEON.”
T
ogo C. II. Sri’RC.KON’s AUT( JliKX’.RAl’IIY.
(The “Will Richardson “here mentioned was a godly ploughman, at Stambourne, to whom C. 11. Spurgeon, while” living at his grandfather’s, was devotedly attached; and the friendship between them was continued in after years. The first volume of The New rark Street J’nlpit contains the following reference to him: — “I recollect walking with a ploughman, one day, - a man who was deeply taught, although, he was a ploughman; and, really, ploughmen would make a great deal better preachers than many College gentlemen, — and he said to me, ‘Depend upon it, my good brother, if you or I ever get one inch above the ground, we shall get just that inch too high.’” This was a favourite; utterance; of the good man, as appears from the. brief sketch of him written by Pastor j. C. Houchin : —
“When 1 came to Stambourne, one, of the old men who had overlived their former Pastor, and whose grey hairs adorned the table-pew of the old chapel, was William Richardson, a farm-labourer, and a man of clear and strong mind. He was able, to read, so as to make fair use of his P>ible and hymn-book, and he had a heart felt knowledge, of the; gospel. It is said that ‘Master Charles’ was very fond ol Will, and that Will used to like; to talk with the boy, and that the two have been seen walking up and down the field together when Will was following the; plough.
“Will Richardson had a reputation for what they call ‘cramp” sayings, many ot which used to be; retailed in the; village twenty years ago. On one; occasion, when a young minister, just settled in the; neighbourhood, had occupied the; pulpit for the. day, in exchange; with the- present Pastor, he was met at the; foot of the; pulpit stairs by Will, who, shaking his hand, said, ‘Ah, young man, you have, got a good many stiles to ge;t over be;fore; you get into Pre;aching Road! ‘Will spoke the; truth, as it turne-el eput, but it was pre-tty straight hitting.
“Visiting him, one day, and finding him full of faith, and giving glory to God, on my expressing a strong desire for fellowship with him in those; experiences, he remarked that, whe;n the; sun shone’, and the; be;es we;re at work, if there was honey in one ske-p, there was enough to till another. Some; friends had visite:el him, and had observed that, if they were blessed with his experiences, they should be; be;yonel all doubt ami fear; and he; replied that God only gave these great things whe;n His former gifts hael been maele good use of. I quoted the parable of the tale-nts, ami he; said, ‘That is it.’
“Will was wont to say, ‘Depend upon it, if we get one; inch above the ground in our own estimation, we get just that inch too high.’
“On one- occasion, 1 found him excessively weak, but quite sensible, anel he; said, ‘Don’t we; read of one of old tried in the fin;?’ I quoted the passage;, and he replied, ‘That is gold indeed.’ He then said that he had felt the two armies of the flesh and the spirit as lively in him now as when he was well and about in the world,
C. II. SPURGEON S AUTOBIOGRArHY.
2QI
and that he was disappointed and grieved to find it so, as it gave the enemy his chief advantage. So Satan had laid all his sins for years past before him, and insinuated that they must end in his destruction. ‘Hut,’ said Yil, ‘I was enabled to say to him, “God is a gracious and holy (iod, and what lie has put into my heart, He will not take away any more; and He has put loye into my heart; and if He were to send me to hell, I must loye Him still.” And I told him not to say any more to me about my sins, but to “go to the Lord about them; for lie knows whether I be pardoned, and made His child, cr whether I be a hypocrite.” He could not carry such a message. Then there seemed to come a strong voice, which said, “He shall die in the Lord.” And oh, the peace- and the joy, I cannot describe; to you nor nobody! Oh, that His dear name was known and loved by every person all over the whole; world! ’
“My last visit, in July, 1870, four days before his death, showed the ruling passion for” craiup ’ sayings to be: strong in death. He: was quite sensible, and after conversation, I took up the: Bible, anel, opening it at the seventeenth of John, I commenced reading, when he shouted aloud, ‘Oh, that is my blood horse! ‘I said, ‘What elo you mean?’ anel he replied, ‘I can ride higher on that chapter than on any other.’ So I reael it, anel prayed with him for the last time.”)
(The uncle’, referred to in the following playful note, has kindly sent it for the Autobiography, with another anel longer letter which appears in Chapter XXX., so that, clearly, he was living at the: time: it was written, although he had not answered his nephew’s previous communications: — )
“No. 60, Park Street,
“Cambridge,
r^53-
” My Dear Aunt,
“Can you kindly inform me: whether Mr. James Spurgeon, Junr., of the parish of Stambourne, Kssex, is yet alive? I have written two letters to the said gentleman, anel, as he: was a particular friend of mine’, I begin to feel somewhat anxious seeing that I have had no reply. If you should find, among the papers he has le-ft, any letter directed to me, I shall feel much obliged by your forwarding the same.
“When I was last at his house, he was extremely kind to me, anel I ilattered myself that, if I should ever have occasion to ask a favour, I should not be- relused; or, il elenieel, it would be: in so kinel a manner that it would not look like neglect. If he is alive, and not gone beyond the seas, please to give him my kinel love the first
2c)2 C. II. SPURGEON S AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
time you meet him, and tell him 1 suppose; he must have gout in his hands, so that he: cannot write. Should it turn out that it is so, keep all wines and spirits iroin him, as they are bad things lor gouty lolk; and be so good as to foment his hands with warm water boiled with the; heads of poppies. By this treatment, the; swelling will subside; and, as soon as he is able, if you find him at all tractable, put a pen in his hand, and make; him write his name, and post it to me, so that I may be: sure: he is alive. Ah, ’tis a sael thing people will get gouty!
“But pe:rhaps he is gone. We’ll, poor fellow, he was not the- worst that eve-r lived; I felt sorry to part from him the last time, and, as the Irishman said, 1 hoped he would, at any rate, have: let me know that lie: was dead. 1 thought you were the most likely person to know him, as 1 have seen you at his house: several times when I have: been there. I trust you will just send me: a line to lei me know how the’ poor fellow is, if alive at all.
“‘ith best love to you ami the- liul<- ones,
“1 am,
“Yours truly.
“CIIAKLKS 1 1. SPUKGKLLV ’