2. Anecdotes 11-20

Spurgeon's Anecdotes #11-20 11. All for Jesus

Mr. Spurgeon had deep and strong sympathy with all kinds of Christian work. Whatever was done for the Master had a place in his heart and his prayers. Not least among many forms of Christian work was that of Sunday-schools. At the Robert Raikes centenary, in 180, when deputations came to London from all parts of the world, a communion service was held at the Metropolitan Tabernacle, presided over by Mr. Spurgeon. Thirty or forty of the foreign delegates and members of Committee were on the platform, and several thousands of Sunday-school teachers, who had come from everywhere to be present, filled the vast building. Mr. Spurgeon's theme was Jesus, and, referring to the fact that the work is for Jesus, he said:—"If my servant is at work in the garden or the field, and is doing what I pay him for, and I tell him that I am perfectly satisfied with him and his work, if some passer-by looks over the hedge and finds fault, he smiles, for he says, 'I shall not go to him for my wages on Saturday night.' Do it for Jesus, and you will be looking forward to His verdict, 'Well done, good and faithful servant.' Do it for Jesus. Do it personally, as unto Jesus. That breaking of the alabaster box is an extravagant action; that pouring out of the precious myrrh to fill the room is an extravagant waste until it is done for Jesus; and then for Jesus self-sacrifice is prudence, and to die is but to save your life. He that lives altogether for Christ has in the best sense lived for himself; and he that shall never live for himself at all, but, self-forgetting, shall give himself actually up to his Master, shall have taken the road to procure for himself the highest degree of happiness and immortality. Do it all for Jesus then."

12. All of Grace

Mr. Spurgeon was announced to preach, many years ago, in a growing country town. At that time what is now called the Great Eastern Railway was notorious for not keeping time, especially on its branch lines. For this reason Mr. Spurgeon arrived very late. Very properly the people began the service, and as he approached the chapel he found there was someone in the pulpit preaching. It was his venerable grandfather. He saw his grandson enter by the front door and make his way up the aisle, and at once he said, "Here comes my grandson! He may preach the Gospel better than I can, but he cannot preach a better gospel; can you, Charles?" As the latter made his way through the throng, he answered, "You can preach better than I can. Pray go on." But nothing would do but "Charles" must take the sermon. He did so, going on with the subject there and then, just where the grandfather had left off. "There," said he, "I was preaching on 'For by grace are ye saved.' I have been setting forth the source and fountain-head of salvation; and I am now showing them the channel of it, 'through faith.' Now you take it up and go on." This the younger Spurgeon felt no difficulty in doing, he was so much at home with the glorious truths of the Gospel; so he took up the thread of his grandfather's discourse and continued without a break. His oneness with his grandfather in the things of God made it easy for him to do so.

"I went on," says Mr. Spurgeon, "with 'through faith,' and then I proceeded to the next point, 'and that not of yourselves.' Upon this I was explaining the weakness and inability of human nature, and the certainty that salvation could not be of ourselves, when I had my coat-tail pulled, and my well-beloved grandsire took his turn again.

"When I spoke of our depraved human nature, the good old man said, 'I know most about that, dear friends,' and so he took up the parable, and for the next five minutes set forth a solemn and humbling description of our lost estate, the depravity of our nature, and the spiritual death under which we were found. When he had said his say in a very gracious manner, his grandson was allowed to go on again, to the dear old man's delight, for now and then he would say in a gentle tone, 'Good!' Once he said, 'Tell them that again, Charles,' and, of course, I did tell them that again. It was a happy exercise to me to take my share in bearing witness to truths of such vital importance, which are so deeply impressed upon my heart. I seem now to hear that dear voice, which has been so long lost to earth, saying to me, 'TELL THEM THAT AGAIN.'"

13. Anecdotal Illustrations, Sample of Mr. Spurgeon's He used it to show that the Gospel may have been useful even to hearers who forget what they have heard. A woman was called upon by her minister one Monday. He found her very busy washing wool in a sieve under a pump. "Well, Mary," said he, "how did you enjoy last Sabbath's discourses?"

"Very much, sir; they did me much good."

"Well, what was the text?"

"I am sorry, I do not recollect."

"Perhaps you remember the subject?"

"No," said she, "it is quite gone from me."

"Do you remember any of the remarks that were made?"

"No; they are all gone."

"Well, then, Mary," said the minister, "it could not have done you much good."

"Oh! but it did me a great deal of good."

"How can that be?" he asked.

"I will tell you, sir, how it is; I put this wool in the sieve under the pump, I pump on it, and all the water runs through the sieve, but then it washes the wool. So it is with your sermons; they come into my heart, and then they run right through my poor memory, which is like a sieve, but it washes me clean, sir."

"You might talk for a long while about the cleansing and sanctifying power of the Word," says Mr. Spurgeon, "and it would not make such an impression on your hearers as that simple story would."

14. A New Suit for the Pastor The name of Olney has stood in honourable connection with the church now worshipping in the Metro- politan Tabernacle for more than half a century. Mr. Thomas Olney acted a prominent part in bringing Mr. Spurgeon to London. The family originally resided at Tring, Herts, and Mr. Daniel Olney, the father of Thomas, was a deacon of the church at New Mill many years, and in the cemetery which adjoins the chapel many members of the family have been interred.

Thomas Olney—"Father Olney" as he came to be called—was very much attached to his young pastor from the time of his first visit to London. He had a strong desire that he should preach in one of the chapels in his native town. But there were difficulties in the way. Mr. Spurgeon was too high in doctrine for one place, and not high enough for another. At length a chapel in the Aylesbury Road was procured, and the service was largely attended. The place was small, and the usual congregation consisted mainly of poor people, who raised only a small stipend for the minister, Rev. W. Skelton. This was in the first year of Mr. Spurgeon's ministry at New Park Street. He had noticed that Mr. Skelton's coat was worn and old, and, at the close of the sermon, he pleaded that there should be a collection to purchase him a new suit. He said he would charge nothing for his own services, that his friend Olney would give half a guinea, and he would do the same. The result was that a good round sum was gathered, Mr. Skelton had a new suit, and something besides, and his heart, and the hearts of many others, were made glad and thankful. The above is a brief and true version of an incident which has been most grossly misrepresented. Twenty-one years after this, Mr. Spurgeon preached at New Mill; half the collection, which was considerable, was to be for one of his institutions, but he generously handed the entire amount to the pastor.

15. An Unfinished Discourse

Mr. Spurgeon strongly condemned preachers going into the pulpit unprepared. No wise man would do so unless circumstances compelled. He says that he once went to a service with his sermon well thought out. Suddenly he found that the carefully prepared sermon had entirely gone from him, text and all, and another text and subject took possession of him, without, however, any thorough plan of treating the theme. During the hymn before the sermon he saw his way to an introduction and the first division. For a time all went on smoothly. At length he found himself approaching a point beyond which he could not see his way. What should he do? Prayer went up for help, but there was no immediate response, but while uttering his last words, a thunder-storm burst over the place with such a roar of the elements that the preacher's voice was drowned.

After a few minutes the storm cleared. Such an interruption would have made it undesirable to proceed even with the best arranged discourse. A few appropriate words by way of pointing a lesson from the tempest brought the sermon to a close.

Now let us mark the sequel. Two young men of great usefulness in the Church and work of the Lord were led to the Saviour on that occasion,—one by the unprepared and unfinished discourse, and the other by the words spoken after the storm had passed. But this was an exceptional case, and, as in many other things, the exception proves the soundness of the rule that preachers should never enter the pulpit unprepared with a message.

16. An Unskilful Shepherd In a certain parish church, the clergyman's preaching was the means of bringing a man under deep conviction of sin. Where he got the sermon we do not know, but it could scarcely have been his own, as will be seen by the following conversation:—The convinced sinner went to speak to the minister, but there was no sympathy with the sorrowing soul.

"I am very sorry if there was anything in my sermon to make you unhappy; I did not mean it to be so," he said.

"Well, sir," said the anxious inquirer, "you said we must be born again."

"Oh," said the clergyman, "that was all done in baptism."

"But, sir," said the man, who was not to be put off, "you did not say so in your sermon; you spoke of the necessity of regeneration."

"Well, I am very sorry I said anything to make you uncomfortable, for really I think all is right with you. You are a good sort of fellow; you were never a poacher, or anything else that is bad."

"That may be, sir; but I have a sense of sin, and you said we must all be new creatures."

"Well, well, my good man," at last said the clergyman, quite perplexed, "I do not understand such things; I never was born again."

Mr. Spurgeon tells this story, and says that he knew the man, who found his way to the Baptist minister, from whom he got advice and help, and he became a Baptist minister himself.

17. A Pertinent Question When C. H. Spurgeon was only six years of age, he went into the village alehouse, where one of the members of his grandfather's church was drinking with persons of doubtful character. He went up to the big man, and astonished him by asking, "What doest thou here, Elijah?" The seasonable rebuke was made a permanent blessing to the man.

18. A Pretended Son of Hy. Ward Beecher Most public men have need to exercise vigilance against imposition by begging impostors. Mr. Spurgeon was no exception. A smart, well-dressed young man called at "West- wood," one day, and introduced himself as Henry Ward Beecher's son. He brought, he said, his father's esteem and affection to him, and told many stories, mostly fictitious, however, about Mr. Beecher's family and church. Mr. Spurgeon took him round the garden, but presently said he must bid him good-bye. At this point the young man said, "Oh, Mr. Spurgeon, would you oblige me by cashing a cheque for me?" His suspicion was immediately aroused, and he replied, "No, I cannot; and I don't think you ought to ask or expect me to do so. You are a perfect stranger to me. If you are Mr. Beecher's son you have with you, surely, sufficient credentials to enable you to get change at the right quarter." The young man quickly left him. A few days after this, there happened a terrible tragedy on the London and Brighton Railway. An elderly gentleman met his death, after being robbed, by a young man named Lefroy, who was arrested, tried, condemned, and executed for the murder. His portrait appeared in the illustrated papers, and Mr. Spurgeon at once recognized it as that of the young man who had palmed himself off in calling upon him as Henry Ward Beecher's son. Who can sound the depths of human villainy?

19. A Queer Picture

Mr. Spurgeon knew how to turn everything he saw and heard to practical account. Describing a picture of the resurrection which he once saw, he says, "It was one of the queerest pictures I ever saw. The artist had attempted to depict the moment when the work was only half done. There were some who were alive down as far as their waists; some had one arm alive, some had part of their head alive." Telling this fact to his students, he made the following remarks: "There are some men who are only about half alive; they have a living jaw, but not a living heart; others have a living heart, but not a living brain; others have a living eye, they can see things pretty plainly, but their hearts are not alive; they can give good descriptions of what they see, but there is no warmth of love in them. There are some ministers who are one-half angels, and the other half—well, let us say, maggots. It is an awful contrast, but there are many instances of it. They preach well, and you say, as you listen to one of them, 'That is a good man.' You feel that he is. You go to supper with him at a friend's house that you may hear what gracious words will fall from his lips; and as you watch, out they come—maggots! It was an angel in the pulpit; now come the worms!" These things ought not so to be.

20. A Servant's Omissions Overruled for Good

Soon after Mr. Spurgeon was settled at Water-beach, he was strongly advised by his father and other friends to enter Stepney (now Regent's Park) College to prepare himself more fully for the ministry. Believing that learning is often a great means of usefulness, he felt inclined to act upon their suggestion, although he thought he might be useful in the ministry without a College education, though possibly he might be more useful with it. Accordingly correspondence was opened with Dr. Angus, the principal and tutor of the College, who arranged to meet Mr. Spurgeon at the house of Mr. Macmillan, the publisher.

Thinking and praying over the matter, Mr. Spurgeon went to the house at the time appointed, and was shown into a room, where he waited patiently for two hours, "feeling," says he, "too much impressed with my own insignificance and the greatness of the tutor from London to venture to ring the bell and inquire the cause of the unreasonably long delay." At last the bell was set in motion, and, on the appearance of the servant, the anxious young minister of eighteen summers was informed that Dr. Angus had been waiting for him in another room till he could remain no longer, and had gone off by train to London.

It transpired that the thoughtless servant had given no information to any of the family that anyone had called to see Dr. A., and had been shown into the drawing-room. Mr. Spurgeon was not a little disappointed at the time, though afterwards he thanked the Lord that, by this strange providence, a better course for him was shaped out.