Varying Voices — Pro and Con
It is not by the power of ,%«„»« that souls are saved. I believe every man who preaches the
gospel from Ins heart is eloquent, so 1 have used a wrong word; I mean, however, that gr?™™£ ,1
powers are seldom made use of by God to produce great spiritual results. You have heard of the p e c in,
hi efield; but did you ever read his sermons? If you did, you will say they were by no mean e
markable productions; there is nothing m them that I should think could have approached to oratory
t was only he mans earnestness that made him eloquent. Have you heard any preacher who Irs been
blessed by God to move the multitude V He has been eloquent, for he has spoked eafntTy ° but atS
vrS T’ r ““‘”, “T “^ l’ fT m>’ mVH Part’ 111USt GS^W ™V P«tension “hereunto I am certain I nev er think, when I come into this pulpit,” 1 low shall I talk to these people in a «rrand fashion?” hmk when I come up here, “I have something to say which these people to h£ ’ but ow I
u
1^
non
ed, they are canonized, but in their lives they were probably abused
Now, my brethren, God, I do think, will generally east a slur upon line
brst “spirit s f; ::i 11; TI(“, r IIe ry show that the bies ‘•’”“”s n°<,
Spirit. I could stand here, and point my finger in a certain direction, and I could pause at uch -and -such a chape, and say, There is a man preaching there whose composiiions are worthy o be read by the most intellectual persons, but whose chapel contains, this morning perhaps a 1 undred people I could point you to another, of whose preaching I could say that it was’hemost au tlest orator) to winch I ever listened, but his congregation were nearly all of them asleep I mi-ht, you o another, oi whom I could say that there was the most chaste simplicity, the most exT fordfnarv beauty in the compositions he delivered, but there has not been a soul known* be saved in tlL cl apd for years Now, why is that? I think it is because God says, it shall not be by any ea rt, n ver And I wm also say that, whenever God is pleased to raise up a man by individual power to mo “the world, o, to work any reform, He invariably selects one whose faults and whose errors are so o hr and apparent to everyone, that we are obliged to say, “I wonder that man should do zt? sure y if mus? be ot God ,t could not be of the man himself.” No, there are some men who are too grea for God’s designs, their style is too excellent. If God blessed them, the world would cry.-espeLI y the literary ius[ stk “tl VU ent ‘”M? m! bl6SSCS! bUt G°d’ °” thC °ther hand’ “k- P — -ugh Ho ra
‘T i, cnr t t “”, Y ’ ,: Pe°1)le “We d° 110t SCC h°W ]t is k is cert”iW -t the lie critic takes up Ins pen, dips it in gall, writes a most fearful character about the preacher
”
i ““”r nU’’ ““” °f il’ If * had “Ot been God would no
me. [ glory m my infirmities, because Christ’s own power rests on me. If I had not those
’ “C” pd haVe bCCn d”ne; bUt thC V^>- ill’i™itieS ha insured me aains
e me aga
was the man.’ I have often been delighted at some of my opponents; they have
th of mp head to the soie °f”
ures i
sores -every word has been vulgarity, every action has been grotesque, the whole of it ln« been abominable and blasphemous, and I have said, “Well, that is deli-l, fu ’ and hile persons have said, “Now we must defend our minister,” I have thought, “You had better S?tafo or suppose it is true,-and it is, the most of it,-there is all the more glory to God; ?or wtocan deny hat the work is done?” And he is a great workman that can use bad tools, and yet produce afinl piece of workmanship; and if the conversion of hundreds of souls now present ff the sobrLtv drunkards, it the chastity of harlots, if the salvation of men who have been svvekr r bl p emers ave ben Vagab.°°ds lr°m ^llth UP- is “<* a grand result, I do not know what I s And I i
O2
c. ii. STURGEON’S AUTOBIOGRAHIY.
N Chapter L., mention was made of the: cruel and libellous articles
which appeared in various newspapers after the great catastrophe
at the Music Hall, and extracts from two of them were
specimens of the rest. There were other secular papers V~
hich
‘i’i
published more favourable comments, one of the first
Evening Star, November 5, 1850, which saicl:-” Other questions ‘than that of the structure of the building, or the protection of the startled assemblage, are raised by the Surrey Gardens The vocation of the preacher, and the secret of his power, are brought by it within the rancre of every man’s thoughts, and. therefore, of newspaper discussion, worldly-minded are forced to reflect on the nature of an institution which survive the most sweeping changes, defies alike persecution and rivalry and conspicuous in this nineteenth century, to which the press and platform are alm« peculiar, than in the twelfth or sixteenth, when the altar and the pulpit had competitors but in the throne. The devout, moreover, who prefer to thin rdWous exercises as more or less supernatural, and the result of direct or indirec inspiration from on high, are compelled to observe the very different operati, the same Divine Spirit working through different human instrumentalities while a host of good, and perhaps able men, are discoursing from Scripture te: their few hundreds of hearers each, one-ami he a comparatively ulHrame, draws the multitude by ten and fifteen thousand at a time, and is even besought continue: his preaching while the dead and wounded are being carriec
of the meeting-house.
No one can go into a well-filled church, or into the majority of chapels, withoi bein* tempted to ask.-’ Where are the poor?’ Preacher and hearers are ahl emphatically of the middle: class. The grey-headed, white-neckclothed, an, otherwise respectable-looking men, in conspicuous seats, are prosperous traders, lawyers or doctors. The younger fathers of families are clerks or shopkeepers few Sunday-school teachers, unmarried shopmen and clerks, make up the: nudes c the con-relation. The female portion greatly preponderate in number, are aln exclusivVconnections of the before-mentioned; though, here and there, is some solitary wife or widowed mother, who has slipped away from a penurious home snatch consolation from the: lips that speak of Heaven. Hut where are the artizan classes -that keen-eyed, strong-minded race, who crowd the lloor at politica meetings or cheap concerts, fill the minor theatres, and struggle into the shilhng gallery Lyceum or Princess’s? So very scanty is their attendance upon the: most note teachers that it is their adhesion to Mr. Spurgeon which has made that gentleman a prodigy and a phenomenon. The first that we heard of him, two or years sine,- was that the Bankside labourers went to hear him on Sundays an een — a
c. ii. STURGEON’S AUTOBIOGRATIIY.
week-nights. The summer before last, we found the artizans of Hethnal Gr much more fastidious race — Hocking round him in a field at Hackney. And in the; list of the killed and wounded at the Music Hall, are journeymen painters, tanners, and milliners’ girls. It is worth while to ask the; reason why.
“A single hearing is sufficient to answer the question, — supposing- the hearer can also see. There never yet was a popular orator who did not talk more; and better with his arms than with his tongue. Mr. Spurgcon knows this instinctively. When he has read his text, he; does not fasten his eyes on a manuscript, and his hands to a cushion. As soon as he; begins to speak, he- begins to act — and that not as if de-claiming on the; stage-, but as if conversing with you in the street. He; seems to shake; hands with all around, and put everyone at his ease. There is no laboured exordium, making you wonder by what ingenious winding he will get back to his subject, but a trite saying, an apt quotation,^ simple allegory, one or two familiar sentences, making all who hear fee;! interested and at home. Then there is no philosophical pomp of exposition, — but just two or three catch-words, rather to guide; than to confine; attention. Presently comes, by way of illustration, a gleam of humour, — perhaps a stroke of downright vulgarity, — it may be-, a wretched pun. The; people are; amused, but they are not left at liberty to laugh. The preacher’s comedy does but light up his solemn earnestness. He; is painting some scene of death-bed remorse, or of timely repentance; some; Magdalene’s forgiveness, or some; prodigals return. I lis colours are; taken from the; earth and sky of common human experience; and aspiration. He- dips his pencil, so to speak, in the veins of the nearest spectator, anil makes his work a part of every man’s nature-. 1 lis images are drawn from the; homes of the- common people, the daily toil for daily bread, the nightly rest of tired labour, the- mother’s love; for a wayward boy, ‘the father’s tenderness to a sick daughter. His anecdotes are not far-fetched, they have- a natural pathos. He; tells how some; despairing unfortunate;, hastening with her last penny to the suicide’s bridge, was stopped by the sound of psalmody, and turned into his chapel; or how some; widow’s son, running away from his mother’s home, was brought back by the recollection of a prayer, and sits now in that pew. I Ie does not narrate occurrences, but describes them, with a rough, graphic force; and faithfulness. He does not reason out his doctrines, but announces, explains, and applies them. He ventures a political allusion, and it goes right io the democratic he-art. In the open air, someone may interrupt or interrogate, and the; response is a new effect. In short, this man preaches Christianity — his Christianity, at any rate,- as Ernest Jones preaches Chartism, and as Gemgh preaches temperance, ‘is it any wonder that he; meets with like success? Or is he either to be blamed or scorned? Let it first be remembered that Latimer was not less homely when he preached before the king, — nor South less humorous when he cowed Rochester, — nor Vhiteficlel less o M C. II. SPURGEOX’S AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
declamatory when he moved Hume and Franklin,- nor Rowland Hill less vulgar, though brother to a baronet. To us, it appears that clulness is the worst fault possible to a man whose- first business it is to interest, — that the dignity of the pulpit is best consulted by making it attractive, — and that the clergy of all denominations might get some, frequent hints for the- composition of their sermons from the young Baptist preacher who never went to College-.’
Soon after the services were resume-el at the Music Hall, a correspondent of 77/6’ Sun newspape-r wrote : —” If what we he-ard, last Sunday, be a specimen of Mr. Spurgeum’s usual preaching, there was certainly nothing at all more extravagant than would be heard from most of the Evangelical clergymen and Dissenting preachers in the: country. There were no outrageous descriptions of Divine anger and future punishment, nor any wiredrawn refinements on the theology of repentance. His statements on the latter point were characterized by remarkable common sense; they were; forcibly expressed and illustrated, as were his arguments for the necessity of repentance. Indeed, there was little in which preachers of all creeds would not have concurred. His voice is a noble: one, filling the whole place with the- greatest ease; at the further end of the building, we did not miss a syllable. His manner was perfectly unrestrained, but not irreverent. His command of language is very considerable, but does not lead him, for an extempore speaker, into verbosity. His style is unfettered, homely, forcible, and abounds in pointed remarks. There was a total absence of anything humorous or ludicrous. The secret of his popularity, taking last Sunday as a specimen, appeared to us to be something very different.
“It was impossible not to feel that the preacher was absorbed, not in himself, but in his audience. The formal separation of the pulpit did not separate him from his hearers. He conversed with them, he was one of them. He did not lecture them ex cathedra, or indulge in disquisitions or topics out of their line of thought; but spoke with them as he would have done on a solemn subject in their” own houses. Most of our pulpits ‘die of dignity;’ but, while there was nothing unbecoming on Sunday, the preacher placed himself on a level with all. Of course, a vivid fancy, and considerable powers of expression, aided by a first-rate voice, will account for much; but we think what we have pointed out was the chief reason why, among so many thousands of hearers, we could not — and we looked carefully — detect a single sleeper.
“Our more dignified preachers might study with advantage the phenomenon of this youth’s popularity. We can only say that, for our part, his manner disarmed criticism, and we could think only of his probable usefulness to the thousands present ‘who, we are confident, by their appearance, are not listeners to our customary pulpit prosaics. Lord Chief Justice Campbell, with his son, was present on the platform, and seemed to take the same view with ourselves; he remarked several times to one of the managers, after the service, in our hearing, and also to Sir Richard Mayne (Commissioner of Police), who was likewise present, ‘He is doing great good, sir, — great good.’ London could find room for twenty such preachers; they are just what the populace needs.”
Dr. John Campbell reprinted the foregoing letter in The ttritis/i Banner, and added the following remarks:
‘Such a testimony, from such a quarter, possesses a special value, and the deliberate language of the Lord Chief Justice of England will be duly estimated wherever it shall be read. There is no living man from whom a ranting, ravingenthusiast would have so much to fear. A better judge of teaching, or preaching, or eloquence, than Lord Campbell, is nowhere to be found. The friends of Mr. Spurgeon, therefore, may congratulate themselves on having anticipated the decision of this great legal luminary.”
1 he famous Lrrcville Jl/cmoirs contain the following record re-latino- to the period now under consideration: -“8th February, 1857. — ! have just come from hearing the celebrated Mr. Spurgeon preach in the Music Hall of the Surrey Gardens. It was quite full. He told us from the pulpit that there were 9,000 persons present. The service was like the Presbyterian, — psalms, prayer, expounding a Psalm, and a sermon. He is certainly very remarkable; and, undeniably, a fine character ; — not remarkable in person; in face, rather resembling a smaller Macaulay ;- a very clear and powerful voice, which was heard through the hall; a manner natural, impassioned, and without affectation or extravagance; wonderful fluency and command of language, abounding in illustration, and very often of a very familiar kind, but without anything either ridiculous or irreverent. He gave me an impression of his earnestness and sincerity; speaking without book or notes, yet his discourse was evidently very carefully prepared. The text was, ‘Cleanse Thou me from secret faults,’ and he divided it into heads, — the misery, the folly, the danger (and a fourth, which I have forgotten,) of secret sins, in all of which he was very eloquent and impressive. He preached for about three-quarters of an hour; and, to judge by the use of the handkerchiefs and the audible sobs, with great effect.”
The letter on pages 247 and 248 was published in The Times, April 13, 1857. Mr. Spurgeon thought it was worthy of preservation, for it came from the pen of a learned professor, and did much to turn the tide of public opinion in his favour.
C. II. SrURGliON S AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
“PREACHING and PREACHING.
“To the Editor of The Tunes,
“Sir, — One Sunday morning, about a month ago, my wile said, ‘Let us send the children! to St. Margaret’s, to hear the Archbishop of- -preach on behalf of the Society of Aged Ecclesiastical Cripples, which is to celebrate to day its three hundredth anniversary.’ So the children went, though the parents, for reasons immaterial to mention, could not go with them. ‘Well, children, how did you like the Archbishop of — , and what did he say about “the Aged Ecclesiastical Cripples”?’ I I ere the children — lor it was during their dinner, — attacked their food with great voracity; but never a word could we get out of their mouths about the spiritual feast of which they had just partaken. No! not even the text could they bring out. The more they were pressed, the more they blushed, and hum-’ their heads over their plates, until, at last, in a rage, I accused them of having fallen asleep during the service. This charge threw my first-born on his defence, and he sobbed out the truth, for, by this lime, their eyes were full of tears. ‘Why, papa! we can’t say what the Archbishop of - said, because we could not hear a word. He is very old, and has got no teeth; and, do you know, I don’t think he has got any tongue either, for, though we saw his lips moving, we could not hear a single word.’ On this I said no more, but 1 thought a good deal of ’ the Aged Ecclesiastical Cripples,’ and their venerable advocate, and, being something of a philologist, I indulged in dreamy speculations on the possibility of an alphabet composed entirely of labials; and it my wile: had not roused me from my dream by some mere matter-of-fact question, I almost think I should have given my reflections to the world in the shape of a small pamphlet entitled, ‘The Language of Labials; or, how to preach sermons without the aid of either tongue or teeth; published for the benefit of the Society of Aged Ecclesiastical Cripples, and dedicated, of course by permission, to the Archbishop of -
“Now listen to another story. A friend of mine, a Scotch Presbyterian, comes up to town, and says, ‘I want to hear Spurgeon; let us go.’ Now, I am supposed to be a High Churchman, so 1 answered, ‘What! go and hear a Calvinist, — a Baptist, — a man who ought to be ashamed of himself for being so near the Church, and yet not within its pale?” Never mind, come and hear him.’ Well, we went yesterday morning to the Music Hall in the Surrey Gardens. At lirst, I felt a strange sensation of wrong-doing. It was something like going to a morning theatrical performance on Sunday; nor did a terrific gust of wind (which sent the Arctic Regions, erected out of laths and pasteboard in a style regardless of expense, Hying across the water of the lake,) tend to cheer a mind depressed by the novelty of the scene. Eancy a congregation, consisting of ten thousand souls, streaming into the hall, mounting the galleries, humming, buzzing, and swarming, — a mighty hive of bees, — eager to secure at lirst the best places, and at last, any place at all. After waiting more than half-an-hour, — for if you wish to have a seat, you must be there at least that space; of time, in advance, — Mr. Spurgeon ascended the tribune. To the hum, and rush, and trampling ot men, succeeded a low, concentrated thrill and murmur of devotion, which seemed to run at once:, like an electric current, through the breast of everyone present; and by this magnetic chain, the: preacher held us fast bound for about two hours. It is not my purpose to give a summary of his discourse. It is enough to say of his voice, that its power and volume are sufficient to reach everyone in that vast assembly; of his language, that it is neither high-flown nor homely; of his style, that it is at times familiar, at times declamatory, but always happy, and often eloquent; of his doctrine, that neither the Calvinist nor the Baptist appears in the forefront of the battle which is waged by Mr. Spurgeon with relentless animosity, and with gospel weapons, against irreligion, cant, hypocrisy, pride, and those secret bosom sins which so easily beset a man in daily lile; and to sum up all in a word, it is enough to say of the man himself that he impresses you with a perfect conviction of hie: sincerity.
“But I have not written so much about my children’s want of spiritual food when they listened to the mumbling of the Archbishop of — , and my own banquet at the Surrey Gardens, without a desire to draw a practical conclusion from these two stories, and to point them by a moral. Mere is a man not more Calvinistic than many an incumbent ol the Established Church, who ’ humbles and mumbles,’ as old Latimer says, over his liturgy and text. Here is a man who says the complete immersion, or something ol the kind, oi adults is necessary to baptism. These are his faults of doctrine; but, if I were the examining chaplain oi the Archbishop of — , I would say, ‘May it please your Grace, here is a man able to preach eloquently, able to fill the largest church in England with his voice, and, what is more to the purpose, with people. And may it please your Grace, here are two churches in the metropolis, St. Paul’s and Westminster Abbey. What does your Grace think of inviting Mr. Spurgeon, this heretical Calvinist and Baptist, who is able to draw ten thousand souls after him, just to try his voice, some Sunday morning, in the nave of either of those churches? At any rate, I will answer for one thing that, if he preaches in Westminster Abbey, we shall not have a repetition of the disgraceful practice, now common in that church, of having the sermon before the anthem, in order that those who would quit the church when the arid sermon begins, may be forced to stay it out for the sake of the music which follows it.’ But I am not, I am sorry to say, examining chaplain to the Archbishop of - — , so I can only send you this letter from the devotional desert in which I reside, and sign myself, —
“IL-YBITANS IN SlCCO.”
“Broad Phylactery, Westminster.”
c. ii. STURGEON’S AUT<ji;ioe;k.li’iiY. 249
TIic Times, of the same date, had the following leading article upon the letter : —” Society, like the private individual, has its grievances, — certain old-established sores, any allusion to which is sure to excite general sympathy in all companies. The; extortions of cabmen, inn charges, rates and taxes, — any reference; to these veteran impositions kindles a spark of genial hostility in every circle. Everyone has had his particular collision with these offensive claims, and has his story to tell. Those compositions called sermons belong to this class of veteran grievances. An allusion to them will revive a drooping conversation, and awaken a spirit of rebellion in every breast. Everybody has suffered from this quarter, and a long vista of recollection opens out before every eye the retrospect of a yoke long borne, — the image of yourself sitting in a pew or stall after or before an anthem, with a look of calm resignation, which vaguely betrays, however, the general impression that something or other — we do not say what, — will be over in half-an-hour, or three-quarters of an hour, or even an hour from the present moment. A series of tableaux, representing yourself in formal relations with a sounding-board, is produced by the machinery of the; brain. The relation is one of temporary subjugation. There are one or two others near you with the same mixed expression that you have yourself, indicative of transient and bearable adversity. The sky is lowering overhead, but the horizon is clear. We will not call this ’ smiling at grief,’ because, to say the truth, the attitude of the; figures is rather too comfortable to be sentimental. It is unnecessary to say what sympathy the same pictorial representation pervaeling the whole company creates. ‘A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind.’ It is, indeed, curious to observe the extraordinary difficulty which some of our most respectable writers — nay, our ablest moralists, — seem to have had in encountering this particular ordeal. Dr. Johnson repented, most sincerely and devoutly, but still annually, over his very rare use of this great opportunity and privilege. We hardly know whether it is fair to notice the same delinquency in the valetudinarian Coleridge. Certainly, to hear the remarks that are generally made, a gooel preacher does seem to be a very rare production, and to require the lantern of Diogenes to discover him. The fact of the excessive dulness of sermons being indeed taken for granted, people are lost in perplexity how to account for it. Do the Canons require it? Do the Bishepps enjoin it? The evil is altogether mysterious, and broexls over the public like a nightmare. Its origin, like that of the source of the Nile, is unknown. Is it the result of volcanic influences? Will the same discovery explain it that will, some clay, explain the phenomenon of the tides? Or does the enigma await a meteorological solution? There appears also to be something mysterious in the sensations of the sufferers. Lan<>-ua<>-e can
o * o o
give the superficial characteristics of what is experienced, but there seems to be something at the bottom which is indescribable. In fact, the whole thing is very mysterious, and we feel out of our depth when we attempt to penetrate it analytically.
But. ;is metaphysicians say, the facts <>l consciousness in tins department arc- plain; and, so long as we keep ([inte close to them, we feel ourselves tolerably sale-.
“Now, undoubtedly, preachers have- something to say on their side, of the (|iiestion. As a class ol public exhibitors, they labour under peculiar difficulties. For example, a gooel lecture and a gooel theatrical piece can be; repeated, and we have Mr. Albe:rt Smith and 77v Corsit’iin /!ro///crs night after night. But a good sermon has only one existence. It goes oil like a rocket, and disappears tor ever. Tile preacher cannot advertise a second delivery. II it takes place, it is by stealth. But success is not so frequent that it can afford this waste and extravagance without serious results. in other departments, the failures escape notice, because they are merely tentative, and are withdrawn as soon as they arc- discovered not to take,-, while one gooel hit is hammered for months running into the public mind. In the case of sermons, good and bad are on the same: cxhibitory level, and human nature: is pinned forcibly to its average mark.
“The: reputation, however, of this class of compositions being thus low, it is not surprising if the sudden phenomenon of a monster preacher excites some astonishment; and if our correspondent, ‘lI.];iTAXs i. Sicco,’ regrets that the: Church has not the benefit of similar services, it. is quite natural to ask why should such demonstrations be confined to Dissent? Why cannot the Church have a monster preacher drawing his crowds?
“Physically speaking, there can be no reason why the: Church should not have:, at any rate once or twice in a generation, a natural orator in its clerical ranks endowed with a voice as loud as Mr. Spurgeon’s; anel, if she: has, there can be no cogent reason why she: should not use him. A loud voice is a decided gift, an endowment; it may be thrown away in the prodigality of nature upon a man who has no purpose to turn it to, no thought to utter from that splendid organ; upon a man, in fact, who is a mere pompous Stentor in a pulpit; but give it to one who has thought anel a purpose-, anel see the effect. It collects a crowd to listen, but that is only the first step. .Another crowd conies because there is a crowd to begin with, anel a third follows the second. But this is not all. A multitude: listens with a different feeling to a. speaker from that with which a roomful of people or a churchful of people listen, for the multitude feels itself a multitude; it is conscious of its numbers, anel every individual partakes in some degree the gigantic vibrations of the: mass, ‘idle addition of power which is thus gained is immense; and, therefore, how is it that the Church never has a monster preacher?
“The reason is, that a loud voice requires its proper material to exert itself upon. The voice is notoriously the most sympathetic thing in nature. It cannot be loud anel soft indiscriminately. Some things are made to be shouted, anel others to be whispered. Nobody shouts out an axiom in mathematics; nobody balances c. ii. SPURGEON’S AUTOUIUIJUAI’IIV. 251
probabilities in thunder, — Vane coiisiliuin cum claniore dat. There must be a strong sentiment, some bold truth, to make a man shout. In religion, there must be some thing rather extravagant in the shape of doctrine. The doctrine of sudden conversion or of irresistible grace can be shouted; but if a man tried ever so hard to shout in delivering a moderate and sensible discourse on free-will, he would lind himseli talking quietly in spite of himself. A loud voice, then, must have ‘loud’ doctrine to develop it. lput the Church of England has rather a distaste for ‘loud ’ doctrine; her general standard is opposed to it, her basis is a balanced one, mixing opposite truths, and qualifying what she teaches with judicious protests and disclaimers. She preaches Catholicity with a protest against Rome;, and Protestantism with a protest against Geneva. This is very sensible-, and very true; but it is not favourable to popular preaching. Of the two parties into which she is divided, one thinks it wrong to shout, as being against the principle of reverence. This school specially contrasts itself in this respect with ’ the: rude: world,’ which is supposed to be always shouting, and doing everything that is noisy and vulgar, and with heretics who arcaudacious and immodest; and it plumes itself on its refinement and good taste: in the delivery- of religious truth, which it thinks ought to be done in a sort of veiled and fragmentary way, so as to reach the sensitive ears of the good, and pass over those of the pn.lane. All this is very excellent and refined, but it is against popular preaching. So much for one: party-, The other party might speak loud il it liked; it has no theory against it, and its doctrines admit of it, but it does not like the trouble. And, besides, this parly, though it professedly holds strong doctrine-, practically tempers it considerably, and bends to the moderate standard ol the Church. ‘Jims, what with the: tear of criticism, the deference to a recognized standard, idleness, reverence, and a great many other things, -what with some thinking it heretical to shout, and others thinking it impolite to be popular,- there is no monster preaching in the English Church. It does certainly admit oi a question whether, in our general policy, we are not over-cautious, and gain greater theoretical correctness at the cost of much practical efficiency. It admits of a question whether a little extravagance ami a little: onesidcclncss might not be: tolerated for the sake of a good, substantial, natural, telling appeal to the: human heart. We should have no objection, for our part, to an Evangelical clergyman, with a strong voice, doing what Mr. Spurgeon does. The: doctrines of the: two are in reality much the same; and, that being the case, why should fear of criticism prevent the Evangelical school from making themselves as effective as they can? Jkit such is the influence ol a conventional standard, which, like conscience, ‘makes cowards of us all.’’
The Krilisk Quarterly Review, June, 1857, contained a long article, of which the following were the opening and closing paragraphs: —
—5- c. 11. SPURGEON’S AUTOBIOGRAI’IIV.
“ClIAkLl’S STURGEON AND THE PuEl’IT.
: Mr. Spurgcon is a notability. He filled Exeter II;ill with eager listeners lor months together. He has since done the same in the great Music Hall of the Surrey Gardens, though spacious enough to receive 9,000 persons. Hitherto, the prophets have been in the wrong. The feeling does not subside. The crowds gather even more than before. The; ’ common people ’ are there, as at the first; but with them there are now many who arc of a much higher grade. Professional men, senatorial men, ministers of state, and peers of the realm, are among Mr. Spurgeon’s auditory. These are facts that cannot be questioned. That there is something very extraordinary in them, everyone must feel. How is the matter to be explained?...
‘’ We believe that, to explain the fact presented in the Sunday meetings at the Surrey Gardens, we must go beyond the personal as found in the preacher, beyond the scheme of truth which he propounds, — and we must rest in nothing short of the Divine hand itself. The All-wise has often worked by instruments, and in ways which would seem to have been chosen for the purpose of making
a mock of the world’s wisdom. He did so when he founded Christianity, He
may do much like it again.
“Certainly, a choice rebuke has been administered to a course of sneculation which has become somewhat rife among us of late, especially amono- parties who
account themselves as belonging to the far-seeing of their generation. It has come to be very much in fashion, with some persons, to speak of all things connected with religion as beset with great difficulty and mystery. On all such questions, we are told, there must be two sides; and the negative side, it is said, is generally much more formidable than is commonly imagined. It is assumed, accordingly, that, to be in a state of some hesitancy and doubt, is the sign of intelligence, while to be positive, very sure about anything, is the sign of a vulgar and shallow mind. Our people are said to be familiar with phrases about the doctrines of the gospel, but with little more. They may become bigots in their conceit on such subjects, and know nothing. Educated men now must not be expected to be content with phrases, or with assertions. The preacher, in consequence, owes it to himself to deal with matters much otherwise than formerly. To insist on the authority of Scripture now, as in past times, it is said, would be in vain. To set forth the doctrines of the gospel now as formerly, would be wasted labour. The preacher must be more considerate, more candid, more forbearing. He must acquit himself with more intelligence., more independence, and in a more philosophical spirit, presenting his topics on broader and more general grounds. In other words, the old mode of presenting what is called ‘the old truth’ has had its day. Whitefield himself, were he to come back, would produce little impression on our generation.
“But here comes a man — no Whitefield in voice, in presence, in dignity, or genius, who, nevertheless, as with one stroke of his hand, sweeps away all this sickly sentimentalism, this craven misbelief. It is all to him as so much of the merest gossamer web that might have crossed his path. He not only gives forth the old doctrine of Paul in all the strength of Paul’s language, but with exaggerations of his own, such as Paul would have been forward to disavow. This man knows nothing of doubt as to whence the gospel is, what it is, or wherefore it has its place amongst us. On all such subjects his mind is that of a made-up man. In place of suspecting that the old accredited doctrines of the gospel’ have pretty well done their work, he expects good from nothing else, and all that he clusters about them is for the sake of them.
“The philosophical precision, the literary refinements, the nice discriminations between what we may know of a doctrine and what we may not, leaving us in the end, perhaps, scarcely anything to know about it, — all this which, according to some, is so much needed by the age, is Air. Spurgeon’s utter scorn. He is the direct, dogmatic enunciator of the old Pauline truth, without the slightest attempt to soften its outline, its substance, or its results; and what has followed? Truly, Providence would seem once more to have made foolish the wisdom of this world. While the; gentlemen, who know so well how people ought to preach, are left to exemplify their profound lessons before empty benches and in obscure corners, the young man at the Surrey Gardens can point to his 9,000 auditors, and ask, ‘Yho, with such a sight before him, dares despair of making the gospel, the good old gospel, a power in the great heart of humanity? ’
The following extracts from an article written by Mr. J. Kwing Ritchie (” Christopher Crayon “), and published in his volume entitled, The London Pulpit, will show that, even in 1057, “all men” did not “speak well” ol the young preacher: -
“The Ri:v. C. H. STURGEON.
“I fear there is very little difference between the Church and the world. In both, the tide seems strongly set in favour of ignorance, presumption, and charla tanism. In the case of Mr. Spurgeon, they have both agreed to worship the same idol. Nowhere more abound the vulgar, be they great or little, than at the Surrey Music Hall on a Sunday morning. Mr. Spurgeon’s service commences at a quarter to eleven, but the doors are opened an hour and a half previously, and all the while there will be a continuous stream of men and women, — some on loot, some in cabs, many in carriages, — all drawn together by this world’s wonder. The motley crowd is worth a study. ... A very mixed congregation is this one at the Surrey Gardens. The real Hock — the aborigines from Park Street Chapel — are a peculiar people, — very plain, much given to the wearing of clothes of an ancient cut, — and easy of recognition. The men are narrow, hard, griping, to look at; — the women stern and unlovely; — yet they, and such as they alone, if we are to believe them, are to walk the pearly streets of the New Jerusalem, and to sit down with martyrs and prophets and saints, — with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, — at tin; marriage supper of the Lamb....
“Here is a peer, and there his tailor. Here Lady Clara Yere de Yere kills a weary hour, and there is the poor girl who sat up all night to stitch her ladyship’s costly robe. Here is a blasphemer come to laugh; there, a saint to pray. Can these dry bones live? Can the preacher touch the heart of this listening mass? Breathed on by a spell more potent than his own, will it in its anguish and agony exclaim, ‘What must we do to be saved?’ You think how this multitude would have melted beneath the consecrated genius of a Chalmers, or a Parsons, or a Melville, or an Irving, — and look to see the same torrent of human emotions here. Ah, you are mistaken !- -Mr. Spurgeon has not die power to wield ‘all thoughts, all passions, all delights.’ It is not in him to ‘shake the arsenal, and fulmine over dreece.’ In the very midst of his fiercest declamation, you will find his audience untouched; so coarse is the colouring, and clumsy the description, you can sit calm and unmoved through it all; and all the while, the haughty beauty by your side will fan herself with a languor Charles Matthews in ‘Used Up’ might envy. Look at the preacher; — the riddle, is solved. You see at once; that he is not the man to soar; and, soaring, bear his audience-, trembling and enraptured, with him in his I feavenward flight....
“Of course, at times, there is a rude, eloquence on his lips, or, rather, a fluent declamation, which the mob around takes for such. The orator always soars with his audience. With excited thousands waiting his lightest word, he cannot remain passionless and unmoved. Words and thoughts are borne, to him from them. There is excitement in the hour; there is excitement in the theme; there is excitement in the living mass; and, it may be, as the preacher speaks of a physical hell and displays a physical heaven, SOUK; sensual nature: is aroused, and a change may be effected in a man’s career.
“Little causes may produce great events; one chance word may be the beginning of a new and a better life; but the thoughtful hearer will learn nothing, will be induced to feel nothing, will find that, as regards Christian edification, he had much better have stayed at home. At the best, Mr. Spurgeon will seem to him a preacher of extraordinary volubility. Most probably he will return from one of Mr. Spurgeon’s services disgusted with the noisy crowding, reminding him of the Adelphi rather than the house of Cod; disgusted with the commonplace prayer; disgusted with the questionable style of oratory; disgusted
C. II. Sri’ROKOx’s AUTOr-IOC.KAPIlY.
with the narrowness of the preacher’s creed, and its pitiful misrepresentations of ’ the glorious gospel of the blessed Clod;’ disgusted with the stupidity that can take, for a Divine afflatus, brazen impudence and leathern lungs. Most probably, he wil come back confessing that Mr. Spurgeon is the youngest, and the loudest, and the most notorious preacher in London — little more.; the idol of people who dare not go to theatres, and yet pant for theatrical excitement.
“Will not Mr. Spurgeon’s very converts, as they become older, — as they understand Christianity better, — as the excitement produced by dramatic dialogues in the midst of feverish audiences dies away, — feel this themselves? And yet this man actually got nearly 24,000 to hear him on the Day of Humiliation. Such a thing seems marvellous. If popularity means anything, which, however, it does not, Mr. Spurgeon is one of our greatest orators. It is true, it is not difficult to collect a crowd in London. If I simply stand stock still in Cheapside, in the. middle of the day, a crowd is immediately collected. The upper class of society requires finer weapons than any Mr. Spurgeon wields; but he preaches to the people in a homely style, and they like it, for he is always plain, and never dull. Then, his voice is wonderful; of itself, a thing worth going to hear; and he has a readiness rare in the pulpit, alld which is invaluable to an orator. Then, again, the matter of his discourses commends itself to uneducated hearers. We have done with the old miracle-plays, wherein Clod the- Father appeared upon the stage in a blue coat, and wherein the devil had very visible hoofs and tail; but the principle to which they appealedthe love of man for dramatic representations rather than abstract truths — remains, and Mr. Spurgeon avails himself of it successfully. Another singular fact — Mr. Spurgeon would quote it as a proof of its truth — is that what is called high doctrine, -the3 doctrine Mr. Spurgeon preaches, — the doctrine which lays down all human pride, — which teaches us we are villains by necessity, and fools by a Divine thrusting on, — is always popular, and, singular as it may seem, especially on the Surrey side
of the water.
“In conclusion, let me; not be understood as blaming Mr. Spurgeon. do not blame Stephani when Caliban falls at his feet, and swears that ‘he’s a brave god, and bears celestial liquor.’ Few ministers get people to hear them. Mr. Spurgeon has succeeded in doing so. It may be a pity that the people will not o-o and hear belter preachers; but, in the; meanwhile, no one can blame Mr. Spurgeon that he; fearlessly and honestly preaches what he deems the truth.”
In the. Preface to the volume, From the Ushers Desk lo the Tabernacle Mr. Shindler thus writes concerning the group represented on page 256 :- “In the hall at ‘Westwood’ there hangs a picture, of considerable size — containing the portraits of one. hundred and ninety-three men and women of mark, almost o q
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exclusively divines of the Protestant. Church, — in the centre of which is a large likeness of Mr. Spurgeon, when about twenty-three years of age, and when hardly the promise of a beard adorned his face. The portraits were: pieced together, in a very neat and ingenious manner, by the Rev. Joseph Mountford, then of Sevenoaks, and afterwards of Leighton lpu/zard, where he died in 1867. Mr. Mountford presented the picture to Mr. Spurgeon, and it was photographed and sold for the benefit of the. Metropolitan Tabernacle Fund, when the building was in course; of erection. In the picture;, Mr. Spurgeon stands in the attitude, in which he was commonly represented at that time, — the; right arm raised, and the forefinger of the right hand pointing upwards. It might have seemed to some, too great an honour conferred on the young Pastor to place him so conspicuously among the learned doctors and great divines of the Puritan and later times; but his subsequent career has fully justified the position then assigned to him. He has eclipsed in popularity and usefulness the greatest of them all, though no one could have dreamed, at that time;, to what vast dimensions his inlluence, his lame, and his varied and marvellous usefulness would extend.”
P>eside the. historic interest attaching to the group of portraits, readers ol the Anlobiorapliv will be able to pick out the likenesses ol many ministers and prominent laymen who were more; or less closely associated with Mr. Spurgeon, and whose names are mentioned in this or the preceding volume.