5. Anecdotes 41-50

Spurgeon's Anecdotes #41-50 41. In the Depths

Mr. Spurgeon was sometimes the subject of great depression of spirit. He speaks thus of one of these seasons, and of what came of it.

"Certain troublous events had happened to me; I was also unwell, and my heart sank within me. Out of the depths I was forced to cry unto the Lord. Just before I went away to Mentone for rest, I suffered greatly in body, but far more in soul, for my spirit was overwhelmed. Under this pressure, I preached a sermon from the words, 'My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?' I was as much qualified to preach from that text as ever I expect to be; indeed, I hope that few of my brethren could have entered so deeply into those heart-breaking words. I felt to the full of my message the horror of a soul forsaken of God. Now that was not a desirable experience; I tremble at the bare idea of passing again through that eclipse of soul; I pray that I may never suffer in that fashion again unless the same result should hang upon it.

"That night, after the sermon, there came into the vestry a man who was as nearly insane as he could be to be out of an asylum. His eyes seemed ready to start out of his head, and he said that he should utterly have despaired if he had not heard that discourse, which had made him feel that there was one man alive who understood his feelings, and could describe his experience. I talked with him, and tried to encourage him, and asked him to come again on the Monday night, when I should have a little more time to talk with him. I saw this brother again, and I told him that I thought he was a hopeful patient, and I was glad that the word had been so suited to his case.

"Apparently he put aside the comfort which I presented for his acceptance, and yet I had the consciousness upon me that the precious truth he had heard was at work upon his mind, and that the storm of his soul would soon subside into a deep calm."

Now hear the sequel. One night, when Mr. Spurgeon had been preaching from the words, "The Almighty hath vexed my soul," in walked, after the service, this self-same brother who had called on him five years before. "This time," says Mr. S., "he looked as different as noonday from midnight, or as life from death."

"I said to him, 'I am glad to see you, for I have often thought about you, and wondered whether you were brought into perfect peace.'"

Mr. Spurgeon went to Mentone, and his patient went into the country, so that they had not met for five years. To Mr. Spurgeon's inquiries, the good man replied: "Yes, you said I was a hopeful patient, and I am sure you will be glad to know that I have walked in the sunlight from that day till now. Everything is changed and altered with me." Mr. Spurgeon added:—"As soon as I saw my poor despairing patient the first time, I blessed God that my fearful experience had prepared me to sympathise with him and guide him, but when I saw him perfectly restored, my heart overflowed with gratitude to God for my former sorrowful feelings. I would go into the deep a hundred times to cheer a downcast spirit."

42. It's all Right

Letters have reached Mr. Spurgeon from all parts of the world, telling him of the usefulness of his sermons, and some of the incidents related are worth repeating. A woman in Victoria wrote him, telling of blessing received many years ago. "At that time I lost a darling boy, everything seemed dark, and nothing brought me any comfort. The Word of God, which had been my stay through many similar trials, seemed all dark to me. A friend brought me one of your sermons, and asked me to allow her to read it to me. I refused at first, but at length consented. I forget the title of it, but it was that everything is ordered by God, nothing comes by chance. I felt all the time my friend was reading afraid to breathe. I could only say, 'Go on, go on.' When she had finished, I leaped from my couch, and said, 'All is right; thank God! my dark mind is all light again.' I have had similar trials since, and many other trials, but I could say from my heart, 'Thy will be done! It is all right.' "From that time my husband ordered your sermons monthly, and we continue to do so. Every Sunday evening we read one aloud, so that all may hear, and afterwards I send them into the bush."

43. I was Sitting in that Pew On the 11th October, 1864, Mr. Spurgeon preached in the Primitive Methodist Chapel, Colchester, taking for his text the ever-memorable words (Isaiah 45:22), "Look unto Me, and be ye saved," etc. "That was the text," said he, "that I heard preached from at this chapel when the Lord converted me." Then, pointing to a seat on his right hand, under the gallery, he said, "I was sitting in that pew when I was converted." A profound impression was made on the congregation.

44. Let him Try In 1881, some of the autumnal meetings of the Baptist Union were held at Portsmouth, and Mr. Spurgeon preached to an immense gathering in the large Music Hall. Just before the service began, there was some excitement below which so reminded him of the catastrophe at the Surrey Music Hall that it almost threw him off his balance. Happily, he so far recovered himself as to preach a very memorable sermon, from the text, "Without Me ye can do nothing." Prince Edward of Saxe-Weimar and his suite were on the platform, and, at the close of the service, the Prince introduced himself, and thanked Mr. Spurgeon for his excellent discourse. The close of the sermon contained a note of sarcastic and triumphant defiance. The passage is introduced for the sake of the telling anecdote with which it closed: "I have read very constantly that the old-fashioned Gospel has nearly died out. I was reading, the other day, that those of us who believe in the old evangelical doctrine, and especially the Calvinistic doctrine, have got to be so miserably few that we are of no account—that, in fact, we do not exist at all; that though there may be one or two persons who still believe it, we may be reckoned to be dead, and they dance over our graves, and say the Gospel is gone. Dear brethren, they tell us that if it is not quite gone, it is very nearly gone. Then, put on your nightcaps. You who believe in evangelical doctrine, go home and go to bed, your mission is over, advanced thought has done away with you entirely, and if it has not quite done so, there are men coming, great men, men of thought and men of culture, who are going, once and for all, to sweep you away with the besom of destruction. Wonderful, is it not? Very wonderful, and I will tell you how I thought of it.

"One afternoon—a very hot afternoon—away in New England, in one of the old Puritan chapels, chapels which were built, you know, as if they were intended to withstand seven earthquakes at once, all the pillars immensely strong—enormous pillars—the roof not very lofty but very substantial, and the only thing about the chapel which you could commend, for it was uglier than any other portion, on that afternoon the minister was prophesying to dry bones, and very dry they were. Some were asleep, and others were being edified, and just in the middle of this delightful service, up rose a lunatic in the midst of the congregation, denounced the minister, and said he would there and then pull the chapel down about their ears; so, getting up to one of the pillars, this new-born Samson proceeded to carry, out his threat. The good women began to faint, the men were all up, there was a rush to the aisles, and nobody knows how many might have been killed, when an old deacon, sitting under the pulpit, calmed all the tumult in a minute. He said, 'Let him try.' "That is exactly what I say, 'Let them try.' They shall never succeed, for God is not with them; and if He be not with them, how can they prosper?"

45. Like Rain on Dry Land

Two missionaries, in one of the isles of the Grecian Archipelago, wrote Mr. Spurgeon, saying, "Your sermons are to us like rain upon a dry land. We have no church to attend, and no Christian friends to associate with."

46. Little Mary's Prayer

Speaking at the Tabernacle, at Mr. Spurgeon's Jubilee, in 1884, the Earl of Shaftesbury related the following anecdote of Mr. Spurgeon's usefulness to a depraved couple: "I and my wife," said the man, "were the most godless, wicked, and wretched couple on the face of the earth. We cared neither for God nor man. We never went to church or chapel. One evening we were passing by the Tabernacle, and my wife said to me, 'Let us go in.' I said, 'I have no objection to hear the nonsense talked.'" They went in. Mr. Spurgeon was in his best vein. He dwelt upon the most solemn and serious things. When the man and his wife went home, the man said, "Sukey, did you hear what the preacher said?"

"Yes, I did," she said. "He told us we should go to hell if we did not pray."

"Do you ever pray, Sukey?"

"No," said she.

"Nor I," said the man, "and I do not know how to do it."

"Oh," said the wife, "by-the-by, there is our little Mary upstairs; she goes to Sunday-school; she will know how to pray."

Up they went. They woke the little child, and said to her, "Mary, you must pray for father and mother." And the little girl did pray for them, and what do you think was the declaration of the man? "Why, sir," said he, "from that hour I was a changed man, and now I go to places of worship with all my heart and soul."

There are, no doubt, hundreds of such cases, perhaps thousands, recorded in the chronicles above, which have never been recorded on earth, and which have never been made known to Mr. Spurgeon or any of his friends. But Jesus wears the crown of them.

47. Look after Strangers in the House of God

Mr. Spurgeon often impressed upon his hearers, especially those who sympathised with his great aim,—to bring souls to Christ,—the need of caring for others. "I recollect," said he, "several persons joining the church who traced their conversion to the ministry at the Surrey Music Hall. They said, however, that it was not the preaching alone, but another agency co-operating therewith. They were fresh from the country, and some good man met them at the gate, spoke to them, said he hoped they had enjoyed what they had heard, heard their answer, asked them if they were coming in the evening, and said he would be glad if they would drop into his house to tea. This they did, and he had a word with them about the Master. The next Sunday it was the same, and, at length, those who had been only partly impressed by the sermons, were brought to hear with other ears, until, by and by, through the old man's persuasive words, and the good Lord's gracious work, they were converted to God.

"There is good scope for this kind of work, especially in every large congregation, for all who really want to do good.

"In some congregations many are too stiff and starchy even to notice a stranger; they are afraid their dignity might be sullied by contact with the unknown, especially the poor and outcast. So did not the Saviour when He rested on the well at Sychar."

Mr. Spurgeon's words are plain and forceful where he says, "Beloved, we must win souls; we cannot live and see men damned; we must have them brought to Jesus. Oh! then, be up and doing, and let none around you die, unwarned, unwept, uncared for."

48. Look! Look! Look!

Mr. Spurgeon was convinced of sin while yet a small boy. As he grew older, his convictions deepened, and he was in great distress of mind, in an agony to obtain pardon and peace. He was then living with his father in Colchester. He was willing to do anything if God would only forgive him his sins. Not that he ever went astray into the paths of vice and ungodliness; far from it; but he felt sin to be exceeding sinful, and he groaned under the burden. He went to all the places of worship in the town, hoping to hear how he could find salvation. The preachers were good men, and fed the sheep and instructed believers, but he could hear nothing to suit his case as a guilty, perishing sinner.

One snowy Sunday morning, he could not go to the place he had determined to go to, so he stopped on the road. In Artillery Street, he found a little chapel, and he turned in there. It was a Primitive Methodist place of worship. The service began, but for some time there was no preacher. At length a thin-looking man entered the pulpit, and read his text, "Look unto Me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth." The preacher fixed his eyes on him as if he knew all that was in his heart, and said, "Young man, you are in trouble, and you will never get out of it unless you look to Christ." Then, lifting up his hands, he cried out, "Look, look, look! It is only look." "I saw at once," says Mr. Spurgeon, "the way of salvation. Oh, how I did leap for joy! I was so possessed with that one thought that I noticed very little else that he said. I had been waiting to do fifty things, but when I heard this word 'Look,' what a charming word it was to me. Oh! I looked until I could almost have looked my eyes away; and in heaven I will look on still in my joy unutterable."

49. More Pilfering from Spurgeon

Mr. Spurgeon received but scant courtesy from some Church of England writers. There was a certain magazine of theirs, which, month by month, had a piece of his in it, taken, word for word, from his Feathers for Arrows, and they put at the bottom of the extracts, "By an Old Author." The "Old Author" was no other than Mr. Spurgeon, then in middle life. An editor of a Church of England magazine took John Ploughman's Almanack—"And John Ploughman," says Mr. Spurgeon, "is a friend of mine." Well, this gentleman took the Almanack, and put in every month the whole of the proverbs, January, February, March, and so on, as if they had been his own; "And I wondered," says Mr. S., "how long that kind of thing was going on, so I wrote to the editor to say that it was a very bright idea for him to take all my friend 'John Ploughman's' proverbs in that way, and print them in his magazine as he was doing, but that I was instructed by 'John Ploughman' to say that he was not to do it any longer." The editor wrote back to ask what he should do, because he had begun printing the proverbs, and he should like to publish them in his magazine right through the year.

Mr. Spurgeon replied: "Well, if you do so, you ought to say that I am the author of the proverbs, and that you took them from me. If you do that, you will be a gentleman and a Christian, and I will say nothing more about the matter; but as that is, perhaps, too much to expect from you, you may simply put the name of the publishers, and say that the proverbs are 'John Ploughman's,' and then my name will not defile your pages." The gentleman actually accepted the second alternative.

50. More than she Asked

Speaking one day to her son Charles of her solicitude for the best interests of all her children, his beloved mother said, "Oh, Charley, I have often prayed that you might be saved, but never that you should become a Baptist." Charles replied:—"The Lord has answered your prayer, dear mother, with His usual bounty, and given you more than you asked."