Chapter 22: Marriage--Interest In Sunday School Work

Chapter 22.
Marriage.—Interest In Sunday-School Work

Mr. Spurgeon marries Miss Thompson—Scene in New Park Street Chapel—A Sunday-School Teachers' Entertainment—First Volume of the Weekly Sermons—Estimate of The Freeman—"Why so Popular?"—A Doctor's Brochure.

The first sermon which Mr. Spurgeon preached in New Park Street Chapel in 1856 was founded on the text which had been instrumental in his own conversion at Colchester some years before—"Look unto Me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth"—Isa 45:22. Particular reference was made by the preacher to his experience on that ever-memorable Sunday which has already been described. In the old days of Highbury College, which was a favourite seat of education when Mr. Spurgeon was a little boy at Stambourne, Mr. Thomas Wilson, the treasurer, was accustomed to advise the students not to think of getting "engaged" as students, because no woman worth having would think of accepting a man before it was seen what kind of a position he would be likely to occupy in the world. Though he married young, Mr. Spurgeon practically acted on this advice; for when he came to London he appears to have had no experience whatever in the art of love-making. At that time there happened to be living in Falcon Square one Mr. Robert Thompson; and it was a member of the Olney family who first called the young pastor's attention to the worth of Susannah, the only daughter, who became Mrs. C. H. Spurgeon on Tuesday, January 8, 1856. When the American Dr. Wayland was in this country, and visited Westwood some years ago, he heard facts relative to this matter which are of general interest. He had some things told him which had reference to the first time that Mr. Spurgeon ever preached in London. According to Dr. Wayland, "on that Sunday morning there were perhaps eighty persons present. The deacons had made a great effort to get people out, so as to swell the audience. One of the deacons went to a young lady and said, 'Do come on Sunday; there will be a young man from the country, and we do want to make as much of a show as we can.' The young lady went and saw the young man from the country, and heard him preach. She told me this herself; she has seen him a good many times since; and, in fact, a couple of years later, she took him for good and all; and what a blessing she has been to him and to the world only eternity can tell." The marriage service was conducted by Dr. Alexander Fletcher, of Finsbury Chapel, and the entire scene was as singular as anything of the kind ever witnessed. "Shortly after eight o'clock, although the morning was dark, damp, and cold, as many as five hundred ladies, in light and gay attire, besieged the doors of the chapel, accompanied by many gentlemen, members of the congregation and personal friends. From that hour the crowd increased so rapidly that the thoroughfare was blocked up against vehicles and pedestrians, and a body of the M division of police had to be sent for to prevent accidents. When the chapel doors were opened, there was a terrific rush, and in less than half an hour the doors were closed upon many eager visitors, who, like the earlier and more fortunate comers, were favoured with tickets of admission." According to one report, some two thousand people braved the raw January atmosphere in hope of getting inside the chapel and failed. Dr. Fletcher is said to have been especially fervent in prayer on behalf of the young couple, after which the congregation sang with great heartiness the hymn, "Salvation, O the joyful sound!" The young couple went off followed by the good wishes of all who were assembled in the chapel; but their honeymoon tour was really little more than a flying visit to the Continent. Twelve days later, on Sunday, January 20, the pastor was again preaching in New Park Street Chapel. Was it through the preacher's being in a more than usually happy state of mind that he gave a sermon on the Beatific Vision? On Sunday morning, February 10, 1856, Mr. Spurgeon preached at New Park Street on behalf of the Particular Baptist Fund, which had then existed in London for one hundred and thirty-nine years. The object of the Fund is the relief of aged, infirm, or necessitous ministers; but a sum of £400 is annually voted for the education of students, while numerous grants of books are made every year to a number of young pastors who are just commencing their course. Mr. Spurgeon made a strong appeal for contributions; but his faith that nothing would really be lacking was reflected in the text on which his sermon was founded—"The young lions do lack, and suffer hunger: but they that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing"—Psa 34:10. On the following evening Mr. and Mrs. Spurgeon were the guests of the teachers of the New Park Street Sunday-school, who now rejoiced in a new schoolroom. The object was to do honour to the pastor and his bride; for as a former teacher himself, Mr. Spurgeon had all along, since his first coming to London, manifested the warmest interest in the work of the Sunday-school. Great enthusiasm prevailed; and, anxious to appear at their best on such an occasion, the teachers had spared neither pains nor expense to make the entertainment a success. The provision was all of the best, while the choicest flowers and plants which the greenhouse could supply adorned the tables. After tea, Mr. Cutler, the superintendent, presented the pastor with a proof impression of an engraving of the picture, "Liberty of Conscience," representing the Assembly of Divines at Westminster in the seventeenth century. Several speeches having been made, one by Mr. Spurgeon himself, the company adjourned to the chapel, where the weekly prayer-meeting was held. Nearly all the congregation afterwards passed through the schoolroom to view the picture and to express their admiration. The pastor's zeal for the Sunday-school cause was not confined to his own congregation. One sermon published about this time, and entitled "Come, ye children," was preached on behalf of the Western Kent Sunday-school Union; and another, entitled "A Visit to Calvary," was given at Hanover Square Rooms on behalf of a ragged-school in the locality. According to a contemporary reviewer, the latter "is highly characteristic of this popular preacher, whose earnestness and power in preaching Mr. Howard Hinton, a few days since, commended as a study to an assembly of Baptist preachers educated at the several collegiate institutions belonging to our denomination."

Passages from this discourse would sufficiently show that the young pastor still had his heart in Sunday-school work, and that he spoke with all the force of one who understood from actual experience what he was talking about. The first volume of the sermons, issued weekly, had appeared; and the preface shows the varied feelings with which the experiment had been regarded by persons in different quarters. The preacher had been unduly praised and unmercifully abused; but he professes to be invulnerable to detraction on account of the service the discourses had rendered in bringing about conversions. When he looked abroad in the dark world, and saw what was being achieved by means of the wide diffusion of the sermons, the preacher was not only comforted, he had the kind of answer to adverse critics he most desired. Mr. Spurgeon happened to go and see a suffering bed-ridden woman, who had lain for ten years without any ability to rise, and when she confessed to having been brought from darkness to light, and declared that for nine years the sermons week by week had been as marrow and fatness to her soul, the young pastor thought that the printers had abundant cause for encouragement, as well as the preacher himself. At the time the first volume of sermons preached at Exeter Hall and New Park Street appeared, the Baptist newspaper, The Freeman, had been in existence about a year, and the paper had been conducted in a way which reflected some literary credit on the denomination, though many thought that in theology the editors were rather broad. In reviewing the volume the writer felt that he laboured under certain difficulties which could not be ignored; for while venturing to give a candid opinion, there was some risk of seeming to favour those who were reported to be decrying the preacher, or otherwise dealing out to him unjust treatment. Nevertheless, at all hazards, an honest verdict would be given "in the spirit of Christian charity."

It was admitted that since such great orators as Robert Hall, Thomas Chalmers, and Edward Irving had gone home, no modern preacher had made such a sensation as Mr. Spurgeon; but no one was to suppose that the pastor at New Park Street was one of the same class. "Whatever Mr. Spurgeon's merits may be—and he has some rare ones—they are of a very different order from those which distinguished the mighty preachers of the last generation. They were all men of gigantic reasoning powers, of refined taste, of profound scholarship, and of vast theological learning. Of all these qualities Mr. Spurgeon has little enough; nor, to do him justice, does he pretend to any of them, except, perhaps, in some unlucky moments to the last. But it will probably be admitted by all competent judges, that neither Irving nor Hall, nor even Chalmers, was so well fitted to carry the Gospel to the poor as is this modern orator of the pulpit. Their writings will last for many generations, and will be as fresh to the latest as they are today; Mr. Spurgeon's sermons will, perhaps, soon be forgotten for ever."

Still, it was allowed that the preacher showed the possession of undoubted genius; for a strong imagination, an easy colloquial manner, and ardent enthusiasm, were all so well combined that no one could hear him "without acquiring for him a sentiment of respect." Of course, something had to be said concerning those "thoughtful" people who are always so sensitive and so discerning:—

"If offended by his extravagances, as the thoughtful certainly will be, the offence is so immediately atoned for by some genuine outburst of feeling, that you remember that his extravagances are but the errors of a youth, and that the material on which these excrescences appear is that out of which apostles and martyrs have, in every age, been fashioned. You pardon his follies, for they are nothing else, for the sake of his unquestionable sincerity and impassioned zeal. You wish that it had been possible that a mind so gifted might have received more culture before it was called into its present dangerous position; but finding it as it is, you accept it with gratitude, and pray God, the All-wise, to be its guide and protector." The Freeman not only rejoiced in the young preacher's success, it was hoped that this would be "prolonged and increased"; but his faults, as they appeared to this critic, were freely pointed out. Mere blemishes of style, or offences against good taste, such as "fluent eloquence rushing into rant," or "imaginative flights that sometimes soar so high that they only reach sublimity and fall on 't'other side,'" were passed by. The faults had in view "were rather moral than intellectual, and need the more to be corrected, because they else will grow more palpable and grievous with the lapse of time." They would be sources of weakness, and if indulged persistently, would "prove disastrous to the last degree."

It is instructive, after the lapse of nearly forty years, to have the preacher's shortcomings pointed out by a friendly adviser, who when most severe proposed to speak in charity. What were these faults—real or imaginary?

"Perhaps, indeed, we should be right in summing them up all in one—the vice of vanity; for they all seem to spring from this fruitful root. This may originate his daring method of expounding Holy Writ, his intense egotism, and his habit of decrying his fellow-Christians and fellow-ministers. And these, we fear, are the illegitimate attractions which help to swell his popularity; though we sincerely believe that Mr. Spurgeon would be the first himself to rebuke the followers who loved him for such faults. It is amusing, but it is also painful, to hear a young man of twenty-one speaking of his experience as it he had lived threescore years and ten. Surely some sort of glamour must invest him when he says, 'I have always found through life,' or his audience would burst into a titter; but it is far worse to find him denouncing Arminians (whose creed he evidently does not understand) in almost every sermon.... It is sad to see so young a men so deeply imbued with the odium theologium.... If, already, he can not only preach but print mere vulgar abuse of men who, in the sight of God, may be as sincere as he, and as holy, to what lengths of ribaldry may he not descend when he finds that this knack of 'cordially hating' brings around him a crowd of fulsome flatterers?"

Such was the opinion of a very candid friend who thought it his duty to utter cautions or warnings as well as to give commendation. There were undoubtedly in Volume I. of the Sermons some things, or modes of expression, which Mr. Spurgeon himself might have altered had he ever carried out the design he once formed of revising his early discourses. The doctrines are identical with those of later years, however; and there were hardly so many breakers ahead as the candid critic of The Freeman supposed.

Meanwhile, many still professed to be puzzled on account of Spurgeon's unique popularity. Just about this time a certain Doctor in Divinity published a brochure on the subject of the hour, and apparently settled matters to his own satisfaction, while offering what he considered to be some very necessary advice. The doctor was not so candidly severe as is the critic in The Freeman. "Lend me a chair, my honoured brother," remarks this worthy, "that, sitting at your side, I may discharge the duty and enjoy the privilege of presenting my warm congratulations on the ministerial eminence to which divine Providence has so speedily raised you; accompanied with such paternal counsels as a knowledge of that position—as full of peril as it is of honour—may suggest."

Having introduced himself in this cordial manner, the worthy doctor comes at once to the subject of his young friend's popularity:—

"Your ministry has attained the dignity of a moral phenomenon; you stand on an eminence which, since the days of Whitefield, no minister—with a single exception, if, indeed, there be one—of any church in this realm has attained. You have access to a larger audience than the magic of any other name can gather; you have raised a church from dignity to eminence—perhaps I might add (rumour is my authority) from spiritual indigence to affluence. You entered on a sphere where, to use the mildest word, languor 'held unbroken Sabbath'; and in less than three short years you have, instrumentally, gathered a large, united, zealous, energetic church, second in numbers, in burning zeal, and in active effort, to no other church in the metropolis. 'The little one has become a thousand, and the small one a great' congregation." So much for work at home; but the pastor of New Park Street had become as great a favourite as an evangelist in the provinces as the greatest of the Revival preachers of the eighteenth century. The doctor proceeds:—

"Blessed with a vigorous mind, and with great physical energy—mens sana in corpore sano—you have consecrated all to your Master's service, and hence you have become an untiring evangelist. East, west, north, south—in England, Wales, and Scotland, your preaching is appreciated by the people, and has been blessed of God. No place has been large enough to receive the crowds who flocked to hear 'the young Whitefield'; and on many occasions you have preached the glorious Gospel, the sward of the green earth being the floor on which, and the vault of the blue heaven the canopy under which, you announced, to uncounted thousands, 'all the words of this life.' Your name has thus become familiar 'as a household word' in most of the churches and many of the families of our land; and the young pastor of Southwark has taken his place among the celebrities of our land, and among the ecclesiastical portion of them he is 'higher than the highest.'"

Having made these concessions, which, were obvious truths to all observers, the doctor goes on to offer his congratulations on far higher ground; he takes account of the actual results of Mr. Spurgeon's preaching:—

"Usefulness is the law of the moral universe. This, in relation to the Christian ministry, means the moral renovation, the saving conversion, of human souls. Nothing short of this can satisfy the desires of any 'godly minister of Christ's Gospel'; and, therefore, all such will estimate the amount of their success by the number of well-sustained instances of conversion, which are the fruit, under God's blessing, of their ministerial labours. Subjected to this test, the ministry of him to whom my congratulations are now presented is placed above all the ministries with which I have any acquaintance, or of which I possess any authentic information. He states—so I am informed—that more than one thousand souls have been hopefully converted to God during the past year by the instrumentality of his ministry; and that, as the result of his metropolitan and provincial labours during the period of his short but successful pastorate, several thousands who had erred from the truth, or never known it, had been raised or restored to holiness and God. 'This is the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes.' I know something of the state of religion in the British churches, and I do not hesitate to avow my belief that among the thousands—and happily their name is legion—who now Sabbatically proclaim the fundamental verities of the Christian revelation, there is not one who can truthfully say, as you can, that during three short years thousands, as the fruit of his ministry, have been added to the fellowship of his own church and of other churches." To the mind of the writer these facts were sufficiently singular, and they appear to have been more so the more deeply they were studied. The preacher was only just turned twenty-one; he had no high social standing and no exceptional educational advantages; he had no college distinctions; his only Gamaliel had been his own father; and yet in the metropolis of England, or of the world, the youthful preacher could draw a larger audience than the Archbishop of Canterbury could ever hope to do. That seemed to be a fact for which no moral casuist could satisfactorily account. As, however, every effect must have a cause, it might be possible to throw some light on the subject. The doctor asks his young brother, "How shall we account for your acceptance and success as a minister of Christ?" and then proceeds:—

"In your ministerial career you are subjected to not only the hostile attacks of the malevolent and prejudiced, but to the unintentional mistakes of the virtuous and wise. Keeping all your detractors before the mental eye, let me examine their statements so far as I know them. I ask one, 'Why is he so popular?' He answers, 'You have a large amount of dramatic genius, a melodious voice, and great eloquence as an orator.' But we more than hesitate to accept this explanation. No dramatic genius, no popular eloquence, no melodious harmony has ever done this in the past history of human nature. Macaulay, Garrick, Jenny Lind, Rachel, Gough, have not done it. The theatre must change its 'star' monthly, the singer must emigrate to other climes, and the orator must make 'angel visits few and far between,' to secure the audiences which the charm of your name will surely and speedily convene. And the phenomenon is more remarkable because your gathering is around the pulpit, where no art wins and no pleasure stimulates. I bear you witness, that judging by your published sermons, I know no minister who more emphatically denounces—and few, if any, who so emphatically denounce—the vitiated tastes, the degraded sensualities, and the immoral practices of our country and age. If we connected popularity with a desire to pander to a vitiated public taste, you are almost—if not altogether—the last minister in England whom I would expect to secure popular applause. You not only condemn sin, you do it emphatically, and con amore. 'But,' says another, 'he is so original—not in manner alone, but even in matter—that his originality is popular.' I know something, my friend, of the theology of those sainted men—now with God—with whose writings you are equally, probably better acquainted than I am; and I do not hesitate to say that your theological opinions harmonise substantially with those of Gill and Toplady, of Hervey and Romaine; and that in the tone and texture of that theology I find nothing to account, to my satisfaction, for their or for your popularity." But perhaps Mr. Spurgeon himself might have an answer to give, if plainly asked to account for his popularity and usefulness. The doctor felt sure that he would reply, "I am nothing; God is all; and to His sovereignty I ascribe all my popularity and all my success." That was very becoming, and so on; but at the same time it was not a sufficient explanation. Though God acted in His sovereign right, He never acted without reason. It might not be always discernible, but there always was a reason. How, then, was the thing to be accounted for?

"If I cannot discover the secret of your popularity in what you preach, can I find it in any peculiarity in your mode of preaching? Here is, in my judgment, the explanation of the secret. You have strong faith, and as the result, intense earnestness. In this lies, as in the hair of Samson, the secret of your power." The doctor then exhorted the young preacher to remain steadfast in the faith, and to go on preaching the Old Gospel as he had begun. In that case, "What a glorious prospect of honour, happiness, and usefulness presents itself to your view!" it was added. "A star in the churches; a star of no mean magnitude, of no ordinary brilliancy, you may be honoured to diffuse, very luminously, the derived glories you possess; and having run your appointed course, ultimately set—but far distant be the day!—as sets the morning star—

"'Which falls not down behind the darkened west, Nor hides obscured amid the tempests of the sky, But melts away into the light of heaven.'"

Utterances of this kind have a curious interest to readers in these days; and they bear emphatic testimony to the extraordinary popularity of the young pastor in those early times, when he had been labouring in London hardly more than two years. At this time he was making friends faster than had previously been the case; and this would be the natural result of such genial and ably-written apologies for Mr. Spurgeon as now from time to time appeared. He was seen to be wearing well, and that was a sure sign of sterling metal. It was becoming also more apparent that there was no self-seeking in his preaching; for notwithstanding his many engagements from home, the preacher himself, at the end of his third year in London, found himself many pounds out of pocket on account of travelling expenses and other necessary expenditure.