In Labours More Abundant

If Christ should leave the upper world, and come into the midst of tin’s hall, this morning, what answer could you give, if, after showing you His wounded hands and feet, and His rent side, He should put this question, “I have suffered thus for thee, what hast thou done for Ale?” Let me put that question for Him, and in His behalf. You have known His love, some of you fifty years, some of you thirty, twenty, ten, three, one. For you lie gave His precious life, and died upon the cross, in agonies most exquisite. What have you done for Him? Turn over your diary. Can you remember the contributions you have given out of your wealth? What do they amount to? Add them up. Think of what you have done for Jesus, how much of your time you have spent in His service. Add that up, turn ov.-r another leaf, and then observe how much time you have spent in praying for the progress of His Kingdom. What have you done there? Add that up. I will do so for myself; and I can say, without a boast, that I have zealously served my God, and have been “in labours more abundant;” but when I come to add all up, and set what I have done side by side with what I owe to Christ, it is less than nothing and vanity; I pour contempt upon it all, it is but dust of vanity. And though, from this day forward, I should preach every hour in the day; though I should spend myself and be spent for Christ; though by night I should know no rest, and by day I should never cease from toil, and year should succeed to year till this hair was hoary and this frame exhausted; when I come to render up my account, He might say, “Vell done;” but I should not feel it was so, but should rather say, “I am still an unprofitable servant; I have not done that which it was even my bare duty to do, much less have I done all 1 would to show the love I owe.” Now, as you think what you have done, dear brother and sister, surely your account must fall short equally with mine. — C. II. S., in sermon frmcJud at the Music Hall, Royal Surrey Gardens, June 26, 1859.

BEFORE I came to London, I usually preached three times on the Lord’s-day, and five nights every week; and after I became Pastor at New Park Street Chapel, that average was fully maintained. Within two or three years, it was considerably exceeded, for it was no uncommon experience for me to preach twelve: or thirteen times a week, and to travel hundreds of miles by road or rail. Requests to take services in all parts of the metropolis and the provinces poured in upon me, and being in the full vigour of early manhood, I gladly availed myself of every opportunity of preaching the gospel which had been so greatly blessed to my own soul. In after years, when weakness and pain prevented me from doing all that I would willingly have done for my dear Lord, I often comforted myself with the thought that I did serve Him with all my might while I could, though even then I always felt that I could never do enough for Him who had loved me, and given Himself for me. Some of my ministerial brethren used to mourn over the heavy burden that rested upon them because they had to deliver their Master’s message twice on the Sabbath, and once on a week-night; but I could not sympathize with them in their complaints, for the more often I preached, the more joy I found in the happy service. I was also specially sustained under the strain of

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82 C. II. SrURGEON’s AUTOniOGRAT’IIY.

such constant l;il)(Hir by continual tokens of the Lord’s approval. I find that, preaching to my own people at New Park Street, on the last Sabbath of 1^55, from Deuteronomy xi. 10 — 12, — “Lor the land, whither thou goest in to possess it, is not as the land of Lgypt, from whence ye came out, where thou sowedst thy seed, and wateredst it with thy foot, as a garden of herbs: but the land, whither ye go to possess it, is a land of hills and valleys, and drinketh water ol the rain of heaven: a land which the Lord thy Ciod careth for: the eyes oi the Lord thy (lod are always upon it, fron the beginning oi the year even unto the end ol the year;”- — 1 was able to bear this testimony to the Divine power that had accompanied the Word: —

“Beloved friends, I can say that, as a minister of the gospel, the eyes of the. Lord have been specially upon me all this year. It has been my privilege very frequently to preach His Vord; 1 think, during the past twelve months, I have stood in the pulpit to testify His truth more, than lour hundred times, and blessed be His Name, whether it has been in the North, in the South, in the Last, or in the West, 1 have never lacked a congregation; nor have I ever gone again to any oi th places where I have preached, without hearing ol souls converted. I cannot remember a single village, or town, that I have visited a second time, without meeting with some who praised the Lord that they heard the Word oi truth there irom my lips. When I went to Bradford last time, 1 slated in the pulpit that 1 had never heard oi a soul being converted through my preaching there; and the good pew-opener came to Brother Dowson, and said, ‘Why didn’t you tell Mr. Sptirgeon that So-and-so joined the church through hearing him .J ’ and instantly that dear man oi (jod told me the cheering news.”

It would not be possible lor me to make- more than a very incomplete list oi mv multitudinous engagements during those early years; and, indeed, there is no occasion for me to attempt to do so, ior the record oi them is on high; yet certain circumstances impressed a few of the services so powerfully upon my mind that I can distinctly recall them even alter this long interval.

1 had promised to give some of my “Personal Reminiscences” at the annual meeting of the Pastors’ College held in the Tabernacle on December i, i SSo; and while- I sat in my study, that morning, with my two secretaries, Mr. Keys and Mr. 1 Inrrnld, I said to the former: — “I recollect an incident, which occurred during my first ear in London, in which you were concerned.” This is the: story. Old Mr. Thomas Olney — “Father Olney,” as he was affectionately called by our Park Street friends, — was very anxious that I should go and preach at Tring, the little Hertfordshire town where, he; was born, and where his father, Mr. Daniel Olney, was for many years a dencon in one of the three Baptist churches. He found it was not a very easy matter to arrange-, for tin.’ people; had heard either so much or so little about me that I could not be; allowed to appear in one of the chapels been/use. I was too high in doctrine; for the good folk who worshipped there, and permission could not be obtained lor the use; of another chapel because I was too low in doctrine for the dear Hyper-Calvinist friends who met there, and sang, with a meaning good I )r. Vatts never intended, —

We are a tjardon wallM around.

Chosen and made peculiar ground;

A little spot, enclosed by irracc

Out ol the worlds wide wilderness.”

lUit then; was a third place, — the Vest Knd Chapel, — th(; minister of which was a Mr. William Skelton, who thought that 1 was all right in doctrine, so Mr. Olney obtained consent for me to preach there. If I remember rightly, the worthy man’s stipend only amounted to about fifteen shillings a week. He had invited us to tea at his house;; but while we. sat in his humble; home, my conscience; rather smote; me; because my good deae-.on and I were consuming some of his scanty store: of provisions, and bewail to think of some: plan by which we could repay him for his kindness. I noticed that our InVnel was wearing an alpaca coat, which was very shiny, and in places was so worn that I could see through it. Ve went to the: rhapel, anel the service proceeded, anel all the: while- I was pondering in my mind what could be: done: lor the worthy man who hael lent us his chapel, anel entertained us so generously. During the: singing of one of the hymns, Mr. Keys came up to the pulpit, and said t() m<’> “I he; pastor ol this church is a very poor man, the people: are: able: to <>ive; him very little:; it would be: a great kindness, sir, if you could have: a collection for him, anel get him a new coat.” That was just what I had been thinking, so at the: close of the: service I said to the con-relation : — “Now, dear friends, 1 have: preached to you as well as I could, and you know that our Saviour said to His disciples, ‘Freely ye have received, freely give.’ I don’t want anything from you for myself, but the; minister of this chape:! looks to me: as though he: would not object to a new suit of clothes.” I pointed down to my worthy deacon, anel said, “Father Olney, down there, I am sure will start the collection with half a sovereign (he: at once nodded his head to confirm my statement); I will gladly give: the: same amount; and il you will all help as much as you can, our brother will soon have: a new suit, anel a good one;, too.”

The: collection was made, it realized a very fair sum, anel the: minister was in due time: provided with suitable garments. I apologised to him, after the: service, for my rudeness in calling public attention to his worn coat; but he: heartily thanked me: for what I hael done, anel then added,” Ever since I have been in the service: of the: Lord Jesus Christ, my Master has always found me: my livery. I have: often wondered where the next suit would come from, anel I really was wanting a newone very badly; but now you have provided it for me, anel I am very grateful both to

i c. ii. STURGEON’S AUTOI’.IOGRAI’HV.

the Lord and also to you.” I don’t remember doing quite the same tiling on any other occasion, though I may have helped some of the Lord’s poor servants in a different way

As far as I can remember, this is a true account of what happened at Tring in August, 1851; and I have often related the story. Someone else, however, evidently thought that it was not sufficiently sensational, so it was very considerably altered, and ultimately found its way into The Glasgow Examiner, in May, 1861, as a communication from the. London correspondent of that paper. It is worth while to compare, the “authorized” and “revised” versions of the. incident, tor the discrepancies in the latter are fairly typical of the inaccuracies in hundreds of other “stones” that have been told of me during my ministry in London. This is what the London correspondent wrote : —

“RKV. C. II. SPURCIEON AND TIIK FARMERS.

“Apropos of Mr. Spurgeon, I have; to chronicle a circumstance which displays the. characteristic benevolence of the rev. gentleman in a most amiable; light. I had the. anecdote from an eye-witness, and hence can vouchsafe (sic) (or its authenticity. A short time ago, Mr. Spurgeon, while; temporarily resident at Tring, received a requisition, signed by the principal inhabitants of that rural locality, begging him to address them. The rev. gentleman having courteously assented, the; good people of Tring began to look about them for a building suitable to the occasion. A Nonconformist minister was first applied to for the loan of his chapel, but returned an indignant refusal. An application to the vicar for the: use of the parish church met with a similar response. An open-air meeting, in the: existing state of the weather, was out of the question; and, there: being no room in the village: sufficiently large to accommodate a quarter of the: expected audience, it began to be: feared that the whole affair would drop through, more especially as Mr. Spurgeon had to leave for town by an early train on the following morning.

“In this dilemma, a small farmer in the neighbourhood offered the use of a large barn, which was gladly accepted. An extemporaneous pulpit was hastily constructed, and long before the hour appointed every corner of the place was crowded with expectant listeners. On entering the pulpit, Mr. Spurgeon informed his congregation that, although he: had only been asked to give one sermon, it was his intention to deliver two. After a long and brilliant discourse in his own peculiarly forcible and impressive style, he paused for a few minutes, and then proceeded : — ‘And now for sermon number two, — a plain, practical sermon. Our friend who gave us the use of this building is a poor man. When I saw him, this morning, he wore a coat all in tatters; his shirt absolutely grinned at me through the holes. Let us show our appreciation of his kindness by buying him a new suit of clothes.’ I he c. ii. STURGEON’S AUTOISIOCRAI’IIV. 85

suggestion was immediately adopted, and in the course o{ a few minutes some ,/,io or £12 was collected. On his return to London, Mr. Spurgeon related the circumstance to some of his congregation, who testified their appreciation of the respect paid to their Pastor by subscribing a further sum ol /, 20 ior the benefit ot the Hertf prdshire farmer.”

I believe the friends at Tring were pleased with the service, for, not long after wards, I was invited to go there again, to preach the Sunday-school anniversary sermons. This was, I think, at one of the other Baptist chapels in the town. I addressed the children in the afternoon, and preached to the adults in the evening. At the close of the afternoon service, some of the Hyper-Calvinist friends, who had been present, found fault with what they called my unsound teaching. The Holy Spirit had very graciously helped me in speaking to the many young people who were gathered together, and I believe that some of them were brought to the Saviour; but, among other things, I had said to them that God had answered my prayers while I was a child, and before I was converted. That was certainly true, for, on many occasions, long before I knew the Lord, I had gone to Him with my childish petitions, and lie had given me what I had asked of Him. I told the children that this fact had greatly impressed me while 1 was a boy, and it led me to believe more firmly in God’s overruling power, and in the efficacy of prayer, and I urged them also to pray to Him. Tin’s gave great offence to my critics, so five or six of those grave old men gathered round me, and tried to set me right in their peculiar fashion. Did I not know that the Scripture declared that “the prayer of a sinner is abomination unto the Lord “? That is a sentence which I have never been able to find in my Bible, and I told them so. Then they asked,” How can a dead man pray?” I could not tell, but I knew that / prayed even while I was “dead in trespasses and sins.” They said that it was impossible; but 1 was equally positive that it could be done, for I had done it. They still maintained that it was not sound doctrine, and that God did not hear the prayers of sinners. There was quite a little ring formed around me, and I did my best to answer the objections; but, after all, the victory was won, not by Barak, but by Deborah. A very old woman, in a red cloak, managed to squeeze herself into the circle, and turning to my accusers, she said, “What are you battling about with tin’s young man? You say that God does not hear the prayers of unconverted people, that He hears no cry but that of His own children. Yhat do you know about the Scriptures? Your precious passage is not in the Bible at all, but the psalmist did say, ‘He giveth to the beast his food, and to the young ravens which cry’ (Psalm cxlvii. 9). Is there an)- grace in them? If God hears the cry of the ravens, don’t you think He will hear the prayers of those who are made in His own image? You don’t know anvthing at all about the matter, so leave the young

O J O *-*

So

, speech,
with the

or affliction, ol listening to two preachers discoursing by turns upon the same text! The passage was that grand declaration of the aj;ostle Paul, “l;or lpy grace are ye saved throng i laith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gill <»l God” (Kphesians ii. >S). It docs not often happen to me to IK: late lor service, lor 1 It el that punctuality is one ol those little virtues which mav prevent great sins. lpul we have no control over railways and breakdowns; and so it happened that 1 reached the appointed place considerably behind time. Like sensible people, they had beun then” worship, am! had proceeded as lar as the sermon. As I neared the chapel, I perceived that someone was m the pulpit preaching, and who should the preacher be but my dear and venerable randfather! He saw me as I came m at the Iront door, and made

prcne’h the gospel belter than 1 can, but he cannot preach a better gospel; can you, GhaHes?” As I pre-ssed through tin- throng, 1 answered, “You can preach belter than I can. IVay go on.” 1’ut lie would not agree to (hat. I must take the sermon, and so I did, going on with the subject there and then, just where he lelt o({. “‘J nere,” said lu-, “I was preaching pm ’ 1’or by grace are ye saved.’! have been selling forth the source and lountain head ol salvation; and I am now showing them the: channel of it, ‘through laith.’ Now, you take it up, and go on.”

1 am so much at home lilh these glorious truths, dial 1 could not (eel any difficulty in taking” from my grandfather the thread ol his discourse, and joining my thread to it, so as to continue lilhout a break. ()ur agreement in the things ol God made: it easy lor us to be joint-preachers ol the: same: discourse. I le:nt on with “through faith,” and then 1 proceeded to the next point, “and that not of yourselves.1’ Upon this, 1 was explaining the weakness and inability ol human nature, and the’ certainty that salvation could not be of ourselves, when I hael my coat-tail pulled, ami my well-beloved grandsire look his turn again. Vhen I spoke’ ol our depraved human nature, the: good old man said, “1 know most abimt thai, clear friends;” so he took up the parable, and for the next five minutes set forth a solemn and humbling description of our lost estate, the elepravity ol our nature, and the: spiritual death under which we were: lounel. When he hael said his say in a very gracious manner, his grandson was allowed to gep on again, to the clear olel man’s grt:at delight; lor now and then he would say, in a gentle tone:, “Good! Gepod!” Once he: said, “Tell them that a<>-ain, Gharles,” and of course I did tell them tlial again. It was a happy exercise to c. ii. STURGEON’S AUTUUIUURAL’IIV. 7

me to take my share in bearing witness to truths of such vital importance, which are so deeply impressed upon my heart. Whenever I read this text, I seem to hear that dear voice, which has been so long lost to earth, savin-’ to me, “FELL TIIKM THAT AC,. lix.” I am not contradicting the testimony ot” forelathcrs who ;ire now with God. If my grandfather could return to earth. In: would find me: where’ he lelt me, steadfast in the faith, and true to that form of doctrine which was once tor all delivered to the saints. I preach the doctrines of -’race because I believe them tube true; because I see them in the Scriptures; because my experience endears them to me; and because I sec: the holy result of them in the lives ot believers. I conies they are none the less dear to me because- the advanced school despises them: their censures are to me a commendation. I confess also that I should never think the better of a doctrine: because it was said to be “new.” ‘1 hose truths which have enlightened so many ages appear to me to be ordained to remain throughout eternity. The doctrine: which 1 preach is that of the. Puritans: it is the doctrine ot Calvin, the- doctrine of Augustine, the doctrine of Paul, the doctrine ot the Holy Ghost. The Author and Finisher of our faith Himself taught most blessed truth which well agreed with Paul’s declaration, “P>y grace are ye saved.” 1 he doctrine of grace is the: substance of the testimony ot Jesus.

Some: of the: special services it was my privilege to conduct in London, in those long-past days, remain in my memory with great vividness. 1 he lirst time 1 w asked to preach at one of the representative gatherings ot the de-nomination was January i o, 1855, when the annual meetings of the: London Association ot Baptist Churches were held at New Park Street Ch;ipe, which was crowdeel both afternoon ami evening, to the manifest astonishment of the grave and venerable ministers ami delegates who hael usually met on such occasions in much smaller numbers. My subject was, “The: Holy War,” the: text being 2 Cor. x. 4: “For the weapons ot our warfare are noi carnal, but mighty through Cod to the pulling elown ot strong holds.” Rev. Thomas Binney, of the Weigh House: Chapel, near the Monument, was in the congregation that afternoon, and as he walked away, one ot our friends heard him say, concerning the service-, “It is an insult to Cod and man; I never heard such tilings in my life before-.” Our brother was so indignant that he turned to him, and said, “The man who can speak like that of a young minister of Jesus Christ is one of whom I shall be ashamed as long as I live, unless he repents having uttered such unkind re-marks.” I know this story is true-, for I had it from the lips of the good man himself. Many years afterwards, he was again in Mr. Binney’s company, so he reminded him of the incident; and our friend tolel me that no one could have spoken of me with more intense and hearty esteem than did the venerable man at that time. “But,” he added, “you know, my clear sir, that your minister

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C. II. SPURCKON S AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

has greatly improved since those: early days. I very soon found out my mistake, and you may depend upon it that my sentiments with regard to Mr. Spurgcon are completely changed. I did not at all blame you for rebuking me as you did; I only wish I had as many Iriends to stick to me, and speak up for me, as your minister has always had. li I ever said anything against him, 1 might just as well have pulled down a skep oi bees about my head; but now 1 have no feeling towards him but that ol tile utmost regard and affection.” 1 also know that, long before this confession,

REV. THOMAS 1MNNEY, LL.D.

Mr. Binney, while addressing the students of one of the Congregational Colleges, had said, in reply to some disparaging remarks concerning me which he had overheard: — “I have enjoyed some amount of popularity, I have always been able to draw together a congregation; but, in the person of Mr. Spurgeon, we see a young man, be he who he may, and come whence he will, who at twenty-four hours’ notice can command a congregation of twenty thousand people. Now, I have never been able to do that, and I never knew of anyone else who could do it.”

The Freeman thus reported the meetings of the day: —

“LONDON BAPTIST ASSOCIATION. — Yhatever reason may be assigned for the fact, it is certain that an Association meeting in London is very different from one in the country. Perhaps the ministers and members of the several churches meet so often c. ii. STURGEON’S AUTomoGKAi’iiv. 89

that an annual gathering is no novelty; perhaps the walk through London streets, or the jolt in an omnibus or cab, has fewer attractions than the Whitsuntide jaunt by railroad or pleasant country lane; or perhaps the thing has escaped due attention amid the throng of metropolitan claims; — but certain it is, that the London Particular Baptist Association, holding, as it does, from a sense of duty, a meeting every year, has only given generally the impression of being a somewhat dull affair. Indeed, it is not enlivening either to preacher or hearer to find one’s self in New Park Street Chapel with a congregation of seventy people, on a January week-day afternoon!

‘This year, we are bound to say, all was different. The popularity of the Rev. C. II. Spurgeon, the recently-settled Pastor at New Park Street, attracted a crowded audience on the afternoon of the loth instant. The metropolitan churches oi the denomination appeared for the most part well represented, the only noticeable exception being the absence of several leading ministers, owing, as was explained, to the Quarterly Mission Committee being holden, by some mischance which will probably not occur again, upon the same day. The preacher treated with much earnestness on the ‘strongholds’ of the evil one that we are called to subdue, and on ‘the weapons of our warfare,’ which are * mighty through Cod’ to the task. The vigour and originality of the sermon, we cannot forbear remarking, sufficiently accounted to us for the popularity of the youthful preacher, and indicated powers which, with due culture, may by the Divine blessing greatly and usefully serve the Church in days to come. A very large company remained in the chapel to tea, and in the evening the place was thronged to overflowing for the public meeting, — which, however, was not distinguished by any feature worthy of remark, save the delivery oi two or three brief, simple, Evangelical addresses. It appears that many churches in London are not connected with the Association, and of those which arc’, several sent no reports. No complete statistics, therefore:, could be presented. Of those churches from which letters were read, most seemed stationary,- -some were prosperous. The accounts, perhaps, on the whole, were quite equal to the average.”