Charles H Spurgeon was born on June 19th, 1834 in Kelvedon, Essex. His mother could not cope financially and at fourteen months, sent her son to stay with her parents at Stambourne for the next five years. His ancestors for four generations were believers, with one, Job Spurgeon, imprisoned for attending a non-conformist meeting in the seventeenth century. His grandfather had been pastor of the Congregational church there for the last 25 years. His early upbringing devolved onto his grandparents and Aunt Anne, who were all devout Christians whose theology was of the Puritan type. His grandfather, James, was a very good preacher who led many to the Lord, and he was a man of remarkable ability, integrity and kindness. His influence on young Charles was very considerable. Charles followed him wherever he could, listening to his prayers and his preaching. When James died, aged 88, he had been pastor of the church for 54 years; he said he had not had one unhappy hour serving the people.
Charles was a very intelligent boy. At the age of three, he would go into his grandfather's library, which was full of books by Puritan theologians, and he would take a book down and look at the pictures, until the time he was able to read it. His favourite book, which he read many times, was John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. By the age of five or six, he was able to read perfectly, and he would read out passages at family worship. His grandfather would often take him along when he met with his friend the Squire, and Charles would listen carefully to the conversations that were always on Christian subjects. He had a very inquiring mind, always pushing until he found a satisfactory answer to a question he was pondering.
On returning to live with his parents, his love of reading continued; his father said that he would do nothing else, and his wonderful memory meant that he retained everything. He was not one to play sports or do the sort of things children would do in those days. Charles's father wanted to ensure that his son got a good education, so he began school around five years of age. His mother was a very strong Christian and imparted her beliefs to her children, and she would often be in prayer, pleading for their salvation. Eventually, she had two sons and six daughters, but several babies died in infancy. Charles showed a desire to preach early on. One day his father found him standing on a hayrack in a stable preaching to his sisters down on the ground with his brother James, acting as clerk.
By the age of nine or ten, Spurgeon had a good grasp on theological matters, which was extraordinary. One day, a former missionary came to stay for a few days and was present during the Spurgeon family worship, and he commented, "I have heard old ministers and young ones read well, but never did I hear a little boy read so correctly before." One day he had Charles on his knee and he prophesied, "This child will one day preach the Gospel and will preach it to great multitudes and I am persuaded he will preach it in the chapel of Rowland Hill." The chapel was one of the largest of its day, and Spurgeon later did preach there.
These words really impacted the young boy and he determined to be a preacher, but to do that he first had to be saved. From the age of ten he was at a school in Colchester, and then he was put in his uncle's school in Maidstone for a year. Spurgeon had such a talent for mathematics that his uncle asked him to prepare a set of life tables for a London insurance company that were still in use in 1903. By now he could hold his own in theological debate with experienced Christians. An Anglican minister teaching at the school challenged Charles on the fact that his father and grandfather were wrong in believing children could be baptised because they failed to take into account faith and repentance. Charles was sure they were right, but said he would check the Bible. He came back and told the clergyman that he was correct, as he could not find it in the Bible, but he also disagreed with Anglicans who accepted sponsors for the children. This put the theology of Baptism firmly into his mind and soon would lead him to become a Baptist.
At fifteen Charles went to a school in Newmarket. There he found an old cook who was a dedicated Christian with whom he had many discussions. Later, he declared that she taught him a great deal. He was fond of this lady, and years later, when she had run out of money, he gave her a stipend until she died.
Now came several months when Charles experienced a time of conviction of sin that was very painful. He later wrote, "I would rather pass through seven years of languishing sickness, than I would ever again pass through the terrible discovery of the evil of sin." For several months he sought Christ, but whenever he read the Bible, he felt the judgments were for him, but not the promises. The knowledge that he had sinned against God was a huge trial for him, even though he had sinned less than most boys of his age. He said, "Though God knoweth, I would weep and cry and lament till my heart was breaking within me." Charles was even tempted to turn away from God completely. One text kept him from falling for good, even from suicide -"Whoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved."
While at Newmarket he visited church after church, trying to find out how to lift the dreadful burden he was carrying. While back home for Christmas, on January 6th, 1850, Charles was going to a church when there was a snowstorm and he had to find one nearer. He found himself near a Primitive Methodist church, so he went in. The minister was snowed in at home, so somebody else preached from the text, "Look unto me and be ye saved all the ends of the earth." The speaker did not have much going for him; evidently he could not even pronounce the words properly. After spinning out his talk for ten minutes, the speaker pointed to Spurgeon and said, "Young man, you look very miserable, and you always will be miserable - miserable in, life and miserable in death - if you don't obey my test; but if you obey now, this minute, you will be saved." Then he lifted his hands and shouted, "Young man, look to Jesus Christ, Look! Look! Look! You have nothing to do but look and live!" Spurgeon immediately understood; he had been trying to attain salvation through good works, but now he realised, all he had to do was look! He saw at once the way to salvation. He was full of joy when he returned home and his family immediately saw the change in him.
Strangely, despite much research, nobody was able to find the man who spoke on that fateful day. Three people claimed to have been him, but Spurgeon did not recognise them. Was he converted through an angel?
On returning to Newmarket, everything was different. He made a covenant with God, giving himself completely over to Him. He started by handing out tracts; he would not be happy unless he was doing something for God. He joined a Congregationalist church and was made a Sunday School teacher. He was so popular that adults started to join the children. Sometimes he would help the children in their homes, and he would take advantage of this by preaching the Gospel to the parents.
However, he soon found that he disagreed with the pastor concerning baptism, because he believed now in Baptism by immersion and not infant Baptism. He asked for permission from his parents to be baptised, permission which was only reluctantly given. During the time before his conversion and again before his baptism, Charles records many occasions of depression and joy. Later in life he was to experience many bouts of depression, and some have diagnosed him as bipolar. Shortly before his sixteenth birthday, he was baptised in the river Lark in front of many people who lined both river banks. Spurgeon felt his timidity washed away, together with his fear of man.
Shortly after, his father, wanting to give Charles the very best education, sent him to Cambridge to attend a new school there. Whilst there he joined St Andrew's Street Baptist Church. In the following weeks he grew rapidly in Christian knowledge and Spiritual maturity. In actions and words he seemed to be an adult, rather than a sixteen-year-old. There was a preachers' association there, led by James Vintner, which sent out preachers to surrounding villages. Vintner immediately recognised Spurgeon's extraordinary gift of public speaking and wanted him to preach for him, Fearful that Spurgeon would reject the suggestion, he asked him to go to Teversham the following Sunday, "as a young man was to preach there who was not much used to services and very likely would be glad of company" He set out with the young man the following Sunday and on their journey commented that he hoped his companion would feel the presence of God while preaching. The young man said, "he had never preached in his life and could not attempt such a thing." He said, "There would be no sermon unless I delivered one." Spurgeon was surprised, but attracted to the idea. As they walked along, he thought, "Surely I could tell a few cottagers of the sweetness and love of Jesus, for I felt them in my own soul." The people were so blessed by what he said that they insisted he return the following Sunday. From this experience Spurgeon realised that preaching would be his life's work.
Spurgeon pursued his studies to such an extent that his brother thought that there would be few young men his equal. His teacher strongly believed that, had he not been a non-conformist, he would have got a degree at Cambridge University. His preaching became so sought after that he soon was preaching almost every evening; it was a kind of training school for the future. In October 1851, he preached in the Baptist church, Waterbeach, and they liked him so much that the asked him to be their pastor, which he accepted. He became known as "the Boy Preacher." He had 40 in the church, but soon people came from around the area to hear him and in no time the church had grown to 400. There were so many that many stood outside listening to him. During his time there he developed an extraordinary gift of understanding and influencing people. A number of people felt convicted of sin and received the Saviour under his ministry there. Waterbeach was quite a debauched town, and it became virtually transformed as the biggest vagabonds and villains in the town gave their lives to Jesus.
When preparing his talks at Waterbeach, Spurgeon, unlike other young preachers, was able to apply the depth of knowledge he had gleaned from reading all those books as a child. During this time he learned how to deal with people, and his character developed. He was audacious and fearless. He did not just wait to preach in church, he went into the highways and byways to speak to people and to encourage them to come to the church. All he wanted when he preached was for someone to be saved. His secret was his absolute dependence on God, his sincerity and his passion.
It was suggested to the young preacher that he enter a Baptist College to get ministerial training, and he decided to do so. He went for an interview, but curiously he was led to wait in one room while the minister who was going to interview him was led to a different room, but they both left without getting together. Spurgeon felt that God was in this, and then one day he heard an audible voice saying, "Seekest thou great things for thyself? Seek them not!" He therefore decided against going to the College.
After being at Wisbeach for around three years, a deacon of Loughton Baptist church heard Spurgeon speak at the Guildhall, Cambridge. This man was very impressed by what he heard, and later, when talking to his friend, a deacon of New Park Street chapel in London. He recommended Spurgeon to fill the empty pastorate there. New Park Street chapel had a brilliant past, having been led by several very gifted pastors, but by this time, the building that could contain 1,200 people could only scrape together two hundred. The chapel had moved from Carter Lane due to development at London Bridge, but the site chosen in Southwark was very poor. It was so low lying that it would often flood, also it was close to Southwark Bridge and people had to pay a toll if coming from the City, and what had been a residential area was fast becoming an industrial one.
Spurgeon received an invitation to speak at New Park Street in November 1853; he went nervously to preach his 673rd sermon to a smallish congregation. The people enjoyed it and told their friends about it, so the congregation in the evening was much larger than normal. After the sermon the people were too excited to go home. They got into groups to discuss the merits of asking Spurgeon to be their pastor. The deacons assured them that they would do their best to get the young preacher to say yes. He was asked immediately if he would come for six months, but he thought that everything was moving too fast, so he agreed to preach there a couple more times over the coming month. In a letter to his father, he said that the deacons were only impressed because they had had such poor preachers for a long time to compare him with. He recognised that he was in the hands of God. In another letter to his father, he said that the people were more extreme in their Calvinism than he was, but he could change that. On receiving the official invitation to pastor there for six months, he agreed to three because he felt that they were being too hurried in inviting such a young man with little experience.
As soon as he started to minister in Southwark, the building was packed to the rafters. The prayer meetings were full of power and there were many conversions. The people wanted his probation to end, so on April 19th, 1854, he was asked to be the pastor of the church, and he accepted. Spurgeon mentioned to the deacons his lack of College training, but they considered that an advantage as he would not be the power he was had he gone to college.
A contempory observer wrote, "His voice is clear and musical; his language plain; his style flowing, but terse; his method lucid and orderly; his matter sound and suitable; his tone and spirit cordial, his remarks always pithy and pungent, sometimes familiar and colloquial, yet never light or coarse, much less profane. Judging from a single sermon, we supposed that he would become a plain, faithful, forcible and affectionate preacher of the Gospel in the form called Calvinistic; and our judgment was the more favourable, because while there was a solidity beyond his years we detected little of the wild luxuriance naturally characteristic of very young preachers."
More eulogistic was the opinion of Sheridan Knowles, the actor and playwright. "Go and hear the Cambridgeshire lad at once; he is only a boy, but he is the most wonderful preacher in the world. He is absolutely perfect in his oratory, and besides that, a master in the art of acting. He has nothing to learn from me or anyone else. He is simply perfect. He knows everything. He can do anything. I was once lessee of Drury Lane Theatre, and were I still in that position, I would offer him a fortune to play for one season on the boards of that house. Why, boys, he can do anything he pleases with his audience! He can make them laugh and cry and laugh again in five minutes. His power was never equalled. Now mark my words, boys, that young man will live to be the greatest preacher of this or any other age. He will bring more souls to Christ than any man who ever proclaimed the Gospel, not excepting the Apostle Paul. His name will be known everywhere, and his sermons will be translated into many of the languages of the world."
There appeared to be no pride in Spurgeon; he attributed all his success to God. He wrote that his success appalled him! It was not all praise and success - within a year there was a cholera outbreak. He had invitations to speak from all over the country, but he felt he had to stay close to minister to his people who were afraid or who were dying. He had calls to help the dying almost every day from all over the district.
The crowds were so great that hundreds could not get into the building on Sundays, so they decided to expand the building, which took a little over three months, opening in May 1855. A year later, the chapel was again not big enough, so they moved Sunday services to the Exeter Hall in the Strand. An hour before the opening of the doors, crowds would line up down the Strand and traffic would have to be diverted. Ninety percent of the congregation was men. The strain of giving out so much took its toll on Spurgeon; he gave everything of himself in his preaching. By the end of 1856, the church had 860 members.
Notable figures came to the church to hear Spurgeon, but he did not care about that. Whenever and wherever he preached, the building could not contain the crowds. They said that there had not been crowds like this since Wesley and Whitfield. In June 1855, he spoke to 10,000 in a field in Hackney, but he could not find his way back out of the crowds, amidst cheers, prayers and shouts. Finally, he found an open carriage that took him away. He stood up, waving his hat, crying, "The blessing of God be with you!" The people waved their hats in the air and cheered and cheered!
Spurgeon could have been wealthy, but he did not covet money. He told the deacons that he would pay for the expenses of the building out of his salary, and he did not want any collections made. People in those days paid rent for their seats in the church. In 1853, income was less than £300, but in 1855 it was £2,374. Spurgeon always gave away most of what he received.
On his arrival at the church, there was a member of the congregation called Susannah Thompson. She was not overly impressed with the young preacher, but their paths crossed occasionally. In June 1854, they were in a party together for the opening of the Crystal Palace, and the young man gave her a book and asked her what she thought of what was written under the heading, 'Of Marriage'. Then whispering, he asked her, "Do you pray for him who is to be your husband?" She immediately understood and her heart beat faster. Two months later Spurgeon proposed, and she accepted. However, they did not see much of each other, because her fiancé was doing twelve or thirteen preaches a week and travelling hundreds of miles to fulfil engagements. However, their love for one another grew and Susannah soon learnt that she came second to God in her fiancé's heart. It could not have been easy always coming second. They were married on January 8th, 1856 and they were in love with each other until Charles died.
They set up home in the New Kent Road, but they were financially stretched in those early years. In September, Mrs Spurgeon had twin boys, both of whom became preachers.
Because of his youth and his incredible talent, Spurgeon received a lot of abuse. London preaching had degenerated until it had practically ceased to be a power. The bourgeoisie were happy with the preaching because it left their consciences easy, but the masses were hungry for something more. As the young man was rattling the cages of the upper class and wealthy, he had to be taken down. Articles started to appear in the religious and secular press that were strongly against him, even saying he was not properly converted. Untrue stories were published about him; some of them were repeated for a long time, like the story of him sliding down the banister (which did not exist) of his pulpit to mock a backslider. One of the preacher's responses to the libel that regularly befel him was, "Never mind; when Satan opens his mouth he gives me the opportunity of ramming my sword down his throat." One after another the newspapers printed bitter and censorious articles about Spurgeon. Month after month the attacks continued; scores, if not hundreds of vile articles were published. Spurgeon's response was characteristic of the man; he told God that if he had to take away his character, then take it away! He considered that these attacks helped balance the flattery he received, keeping him on the right path, but eventually the attacks ceased to bother him.
However, the more negative articles published, the more popular Spurgeon became. The masses did not like the elite, standing on their high perch, abusing a young minister. After the abuse died down a bit, he announced in a sermon that he was expecting fewer conversions because the attacks on him had reduced. Despite the plethora of attacks from the newspapers in 1855 and 1856, some newspapers were favourable to him.
In the summer of 1855, Spurgeon went for a rest to Scotland, but found that his fame had spread there and he ended up preaching and travelling a lot. While there he received a great deal of abuse from the "Christian News." His final meeting in a large church in Glasgow resulted in a reported 20,000 people being turned away from the church. The next day, the secular press reported the preacher as possessing genius in an unusual degree and contradicted the various slanderous statements that had been circulated as to his irreverence and presumption. Similar crowds attended all his meetings, wherever they were.
At this time he started to write. This was something he hated. He had so little time available, so it was stolen moments here and there. However, he began to be grateful for the meditation time that was required to create his books. It was these times that he considered made it all worthwhile.
At the end of 1856, the Exeter Hall said that they could no longer rent the building to one church as they would get a denominational reputation, which was not what they wanted. A fund had been started for the building of a new chapel, but the end of the project was a long way off. The answer was a daring one; they decided to rent the newly built Music Hall in the Royal Surrey Gardens. The building catered for 10,000 people, but no church had ever taken a place of entertainment as a venue and some of Spurgeon's congregation were horrified. The first service was to be on October 19th, 1856. As the day approached, Spurgeon "felt overweighted with a sense of responsibility and filled with a mysterious premonition of some great trial shortly to befall me."
The doors were opened early, and the vast hall was filled quickly. There were ten or twelve thousand in the hall and the same number outside, trying to get in. The road from the entrance to the grounds up to the hall was a solid mass of humanity. A prayer was said, a hymn sung, a scripture read and then, during general prayer cries were heard among the throng sitting and standing around the entrance to the hall: Fire! Fire! Some people cried. Then, close by, some voices shouted, "The galleries are giving way!" and then in another place, "The building is falling!" As can be imagined, this caused panic and people started to stream out of the main doors, terrified. People climbed over each other in a desperate attempt to get out. The scene was worse on the staircases, where people died from the crush and through people falling over the bannisters and a balustrade gave way. Once outside in the gardens, the panic did not end; people rushed down the road to the entrance, but the gates were locked to stop the crowds outside getting in and, because of the crush on both sides, the gates could not now be opened.
Spurgeon was relatively oblivious to it all as the screams did not reach that end of the hall. He could see a commotion and he heard the word 'fire', so he tried to calm the congregation, saying there was no fire. Quiet was restored and people called on him to preach, so he began addressing the people. However, word came that some people had been injured, although they had no idea of the scale. Then commotion broke out again and Spurgeon closed the meeting. On leaving he heard that some people had died. This threw him into a severe spin, impacting his mind and he went home in a daze.
It turned out that seven people had died and a large number were injured, with 28 having to go to the hospital. There was an investigation, and it was generally decided that this was organised by Spurgeon detractors. Too many people were shouting the same lies in three different parts of the building for it to have been anything other than a premeditated crime. Sadly, the instigators were never caught. Several newspapers took advantage of what happened to write scurrilous lies about what happened, blaming Spurgeon for the injuries and death. The Daily Telegraph was the most egregious. Other newspapers and journals put their full support behind Spurgeon.
Spurgeon himself was in a dreadful state. He and his wife and their newly born sons went to stay with friends in Croydon to rest. Some said that the light had gone out of his eyes, and they wondered if he would ever preach again. He said that it was as if his heart was being cut to pieces. He could not be comforted; his days were full of tears and his nights full of nightmares. However, one day he was walking in the garden with his wife when the old light returned to his eyes and he exclaimed, "Dearest, how foolish I have been! Why! What does it matter what becomes of me if the Lord shall be but glorified?" He said it was like a flash of lightning from the sky his soul returned to him. Two weeks later he was able to resume his duties.
Spurgeon was not one to believe that what happened was a sign of displeasure from God, so he arranged for the services at the Music Hall to be resumed, but this time in the morning daylight. A month later the meetings resumed, going on until December 1859, during which time thousands were converted. Spurgeon was the first person to have big meetings in entertainment halls, drawing the masses who would not set foot in a church. This idea would multiply dramatically during our biggest revival of 1858-64. He explained his way of preaching. "I determined that whether my hearers would receive the Gospel or reject it, they should at least understand it, and therefore I preached it in plain, homely Saxon that a child could comprehend and with all the earnestness of which I was capable." Many people from high society went to hear him speak at the Hall; many of the nobility and many Members of Parliament attended, but they would have been very unlikely to have attended a non-conformist church. He found himself getting Words of Knowledge. One day he pointed at a man and told him he was a shoemaker who normally worked on Sunday, and the previous Sunday he had made a 4p profit, so he had sold his soul to Satan for 4p. Everything he stated was true, the words eventually leading to the man's salvation. So many people got saved that the character of the audience eventually changed, from careless hearers to committed Christians, so the tone of Spurgeon's messages changed to more doctrinal than evangelistic.
In October 1857, he was asked to do a service in the Crystal Palace on behalf of the sufferers of the Indian Mutiny. He spoke to 23,654 people! Before the event, he went to test the acoustics. He placed the pulpit in different parts to find the best place, saying, "Behold the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world" in each position. Much later they discovered that a carpenter was working in one of the galleries who heard what seemed to be a voice from heaven repeating the text. He was smitten with conviction of sin, put down his tools, went home and found Jesus. The meetings ended at the Music Hall because the company wanted to admit the public to the gardens on Sundays.
Just like John Wesley, over time, the great amount of criticism died down, eventually turning to praise. One of the best critiques came from the Evening Star: - "
"There never yet was a popular orator who did not talk more and better with his arms than with his tongue. Mr Spurgeon 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 declaiming 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, a simple allegory, one or two familiar sentences, making all who hear feel 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 prodigal's return. His 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, and makes his work a part of every man's nature. His 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. He 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 to the democratic heart. 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. To us, it appears that dulness 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."
However, an article in the illustrious 'Times', by an eminent scholar in April 1857, did most to turn the tide for Spurgeon. He began to have many powerful and influential friends.
One of his friends described him this way: "Could any face more fully express geniality, friendliness, warmth of affection and overflowing hospitality?... His greeting was warm as sunshine... There was light on his countenance that instantly dispersed all gloom. I have never known one whose presence had such charm or whose conversation was such a rich and varied feast... The brain of this truly great man was of a giant order... He could grasp the bearings of a subject, hold his theme well in hand and deploy his thoughts like troops in tactical movements."
Raising the money to build the new church took a long time. The original budget more than tripled. Spurgeon went around the country preaching to raise money. They bought the land that had an abandoned hospital on it. Building was able to commence because someone guaranteed £20,000 in costs, although he said that he expected to only contribute £50 in the end. Over a million people contributed to the building of the church. Before it was complete, the first meeting was held on August 21st, 1860. This was in the middle of the greatest revival the United Kingdom had ever seen, and it started to impact London about the beginning of 1860. Spurgeon told the people he wanted to open the church with no debt, and on its completion in March 1861, the debt was paid; the money having come from every type of individual and from all over the world. The Metropolitan Tabernacle was quite a unique project, but it did not stop some of the newspapers from taking a swipe at Spurgeon.
Spurgeon was a man whom people had faith in. I guess the loyalty he engendered was due to the purity of his character. All his career he had leaders around him who never caused any disunity; how many leaders can say that?. He was known as the 'Governor', but he never led over people; he always led with people, consulting his team on all important matters. At one point, he called his deacons "lovable, active, energetic, warm-hearted, generous men." He was often in awe of the devotion of his deacons. The lead deacon once responded to him, "Yes, dear Pastor, but it is because we have such absolute confidence in your leadership that we are ready to follow you anywhere. You have never misled us yet, and we do not believe you will ever do so." No wonder they had such an amazingly successful church! One day, when Spurgeon was ill, he got to worrying about the finances of the church, even though there was no need. A deacon, who was with him realised he needed some assurance, so he went home, collected all his stock certificates and the funds he had available and, putting them on the bed, told his pastor that he owed everything to him, so he could take anything the church needed from what he owned.
There was a man whom Spurgeon considered appointing as an elder, but the deacons said that he had too much of a temper. He was a man who often tried to annoy or offend Spurgeon, but he never rose to the bait. One day he was particularly troublesome, and his pastor asked him to come and see him the following day. He made it difficult by saying he could only do 5 am, so Spurgeon had coffee ready for him the next morning. When asked what his problem was, he said he had lost £25 on a project which he could not afford. Spurgeon gave him five £5 notes from his personal money. A strange look came over him, then Spurgeon prayed for him and sent him home. The man then sent for the assistant pastor, who went to see him at 5 pm. The man confessed to him that he had broken up two churches before, and it was his aim to break up the Metropolitan Tabernacle. He said he was always trying to put Spurgeon out of sorts, but never could and that he was a devil. He was told that Spurgeon had considered him for being an elder, which stunned the man. That evening, word came to the church that the man had slit his throat! He had been killed with kindness!
Spurgeon was very popular amongst the masses. One day he was in a closed carriage, stuck in traffic on London Bridge. He was recognised by a working man and the word quickly got round. His carriage was surrounded and he was given a huge cheer. He was cheered again and again, men and women struggled for front places to catch a glimpse of his face, and his hand was nearly wrung off and his arm almost pulled out of its socket in the enthusiasm of the delighted bystanders.
Needless to say, he gave many brilliant sermons and lectures. Probably his most famous was "Baptismal Regeneration." He was concerned about giving it and was worried about the consequences, however, he felt impelled to do it. That sermon sold over 250,000 copies. This sermon created an extraordinary sensation; everywhere, replies and refutations were preached, 135 of which were collected by Spurgeon.
For a month in 1867, the Metropolitan Tabernacle was closed for repair, due to the huge numbers that kept coming. During the closure, Spurgeon spoke to 20,000 people in the Agricultural Hall.
In 1869, Spurgeon needed a bigger house, so his home in Nightingale Lane was knocked down and rebuilt - his friends got together to pay for most of this. He was a very generous man, always donating to different projects, so he was left with very little. He was offered £10,000 once to do 50 sermons in Australia, but he felt he needed to be at home.
Both Spurgeeon and his wife suffered from general poor health. One time she had an operation from an eminent surgeon who was asked how much the operation was. He said, 1,000 guineas, which Spurgeon could pay once he became Archbishop of Canterbury; until then it was settled by love. On one occasion, when his wife was ill, he asked her if she needed anything. She jokingly replied, "an opal ring and a piping bullfinch." This caused some amusement between them for a few days, but not long afterwards, an old lady sent a small box to Spurgeon and in it was an opal ring. A few weeks later, he was visiting a friend whose husband was dying and she gave him a piping bullfinch to give to his wife. Doesn't the Lord give us the desires of our hearts!
Back in 1855, Spurgeon led a young man to the Lord. This young man was a gifted preacher, but Spurgeon thought that he needed some training, so he committed to financing his tuition and support. This put quite a strain on his finances, particularly when he got married, but he was already thinking about financing another young man who showed a lot of potential. After training the young man soon found a pastorate, and Spurgoen took on another pupil. Friends heard of this new venture and contributed towards it so that there were soon over twelve students. When the Tabernacle opened, the 'Pastors College' moved to the basement of the building. Spurgeon aimed to train men with proven giftings; they had to show they were good at preaching and that God wanted them in ministry. There had to be a definite sign of a Divine call. Some of the students paid for themselves, but poverty was never a bar to admission; nor was a lack of education, even someone unable to read would be admitted. "Have you won souls for Jesus?" was the primary question asked of applicants. Spurgeon looked for men who loved Jesus and loved people.
On one occasion, an expected source of finances dried up, so Spurgeon paid the bills out of his own money, until he had none left to give. But Spurgeon was a man of faith; he believed that prayer would make a way in any circumstance, so he prevailed (travailed) in prayer and immediately £200 was deposited for the College, and then more money came in. After some years, the College had outgrown the Tabernacle, so a separate building was built, and on opening in September 1874, it was fully paid for. At the time of Spurgeon's death, nearly nine hundred men had been sent out from the College. It was calculated that up to 1880, the graduates had baptised 39,000 people. Quite a legacy!
In August 1866, Spurgeon asked his congregation for God to send them a new ministry. A few days earlier, a lady had been asking a friend who she could entrust £20,000 to, to further the Kingdom of God. The friend suggested Spurgeon, and as it happened, she had a copy of Spurgeon's magazine, in which there was an article on helping educate poor children. This really impacted her, and she immediately wrote to Spurgeon saying she would like to start an orphanage with the £20,000 she had. The letter arrived just a few days after they had prayed for a new ministry. On meeting the lady, he suggested that she give the money to George Müller, but she believed that God wanted him to have it.
Having seen how God supplied the funds to build the Tabernacle, he decided to pull on God by faith once more in the building of the Orphanage. He wanted to copy George Müller in the way he raised funds for his huge Orphanages; in other words, he just wanted to pray for the money to come in and not ask anyone for funds. He believed God wanted this done, so, being a man of faith, he trusted in Him and the trust was well-founded. Whenever funds ran out and more were required, they prayed, and the prayers were answered. Not only was Spurgeon a man of faith, but the men he gathered around him regarding the Orphanage project were like-minded. By the end of 1869, the Stockwell Orphanage was built for £10,200 and paid for.
The Orphanage ran out of money time and time again, but prayer brought the money when it was required. There were 220 boys. They were divided into different houses, each having a Christian matron. Meals were taken in a common hall and every morning family prayers were said. Spurgeon made a point of each boy dressing differently, individually. They received a good education that would help them find jobs in commerce. The institution was strictly Christian but non-sectarian - the headmaster was a Congregational minister. By the time of Spurgeon's death, around 1,600 boys had passed through the school, about 40% CofE, 25% Baptist... In 1879, a girls' wing was planned and by 1882 the whole Orphanage was open, with 250 boys and 250 girls. Just as with the boys' wing, the money came in exactly when it was required.
In 1866, Spurgeon asked for help in setting up a printers to produce books and tracts, and almost immediately, he had a volunteer with some of the finances. In 1867, they moved the almshouses close to their old church to near their new one. Selling off the old building, they built a new one containing 17 almshouses and a day school for 400 children. Later, Spurgeon gave £5,000 as an endowment for the almshouses. There was also Mrs Spurgeon's Book Fund to supply theological books to pastors who could not afford them. In 27 years, this fund supplied 200,000 to needy pastors. In 1879, the Pastor's Aid Society was begun.
Sadly, Susannah Spurgeon was sick on and off for most of their marriage; oftentimes she was bedridden and Spurgeon himself had many years of sickness. At the end of 1869, he contracted smallpox mildly, which laid him low for a while, but the most debilitating problems he had were gout, kidney inflammation and rheumatism. He suffered from these for over twenty years and they kept him out of the pulpit for about a third of the time. They caused him a great deal of pain, and he often fell into depression. His problems probably stemmed from his extreme workload and the huge number of responsibilities he carried around on his shoulders. Apart from all the responsibilities of a church with around 5,000 members, he had the Pastors College, the Almshouses, the Orphanage, the church newspaper and many other 'tributaries' that came from the mainstream, the Metropolitan Tabernacle. Add to that three sermons a week, each one of which he poured everything into, all the preaching he did around the nation, mainly to raise funds, his book writing, around 150 of them, the 66 ministries that he supervised, and he wrote many, many letters a week. He was also connected to dozens of churches, which were being led by his students. To help him, his brother was appointed head of pastoral matters, but the workload must still have been overwhelming, and something had to break. This is a problem with many gifted leaders - they overwork and die young! Interestingly, there was no music in the church, the singing was led by a cantor.
I cannot help but think Spurgeon's cigar smoking did not help his health. Evidently, in his youth, smoking was considered healthy, so he might not have recognised the health concerns or the addictive nature of smoking. He was warned though but continued smoking until the last couple of years of his life. I consider this to be a small blot on his life, but I guess it just shows he was human.
In 1880, he was persuaded to sell his house and move to a healthier area, which was less damp. So, they bought "Westwood" in Norwood. The house gave the Spurgeons much more room, and they also had nine acres of garden to enjoy. Spurgeon had many invitations, but he could not accept the majority, particularly the ones from abroad, because his responsibilities were so great at home. Many of the great and the good wanted to visit him, so his new home was a blessing for that.
In 1887, Spurgeon left the Baptist Union. This was very controversial and caused him a great deal of distress and criticism. He discovered that quite a number of Baptist ministers opposed some of the basic orthodox tenets of the Christian faith - the infallibility of Scripture, the denial of hell, universalism and the denial of the necessity of the atonement. The impact of the German Higher Criticism and Darwin's 'Origin of the Species' had taken their toll on Christian teaching, and as a result, many pastors were far more liberal. Spurgeon finally realised that the leadership were not going to address the wrong doctrine by some of its members, so he left, feeling that he could not fellowship with people who, in some things, believed the opposite of what he believed. These were issues he could not compromise on. Many ministers asked him what they should do, but they were told they had to be guided by the Lord. The problem was that the Baptist Union had only been formed on the understanding that all members believe in baptism by immersion and nothing else. So long as you believe in that, you were in, it did not matter what other crazy things you believed. A lot of evangelical ministers from other denominations wrote thanking Spurgeon for taking the stance he did for orthodoxy. The cost to him was very great; he lost a lot of friends, and it is believed that this controversy led to his death.
Spurgeon wrote prolifically. Apart from 150 books, there was his yearly volume of sermons and his editing and writing in the church newspaper, the Sword and the Trowel. Writing was a trial for Spurgeon, but he put up with it because some people were benefiting from it. He had a wonderful command of the English language. He had a plain, simple style of composition, and he easily was able to convey his deepest thoughts. Few authors have been read by so many people. Taking his eight most popular books, over a million had been sold by 1903. His 'Treasury of David' was his great work and came in seven volumes - 148,000 volumes had been sold by 1903. Had he been a different sort of man, he would have died a rich man from his royalties, but he always sowed them into the many ministries he was involved with.
Spurgeon also published a weekly sermon, which carried on after his death until paper shortages stopped it in 1917. By 1903, it was estimated that over 150 million had been sold. They were also published in newspapers all over the world, being translated into 40 languages. On one occasion, there was an order for a million copies, and someone bought 250,000 and gave them away. Another had one printed each week in the advertisement section of several Australian newspapers to get to people in the bush. One of the papers, a sporting journal, charged the man maximum advertising rates, and after around seven months, he asked the readers what they thought, and he received around 400 letters begging that they continue, with many of them including testimonies of spiritual blessing - some were saved just by reading a sermon! One man, alone in the bush, picked up a torn sheet that the wind blew in. He read the sermon over and over and was saved. A publican's wife in England received a package from Australia, wrapped in a newspaper. She was saved through reading the sermon. Spurgeon found out thirty years after one sermon's publication that a murderer in South America had been saved through reading it! He wrote, "Seldom does a day pass and certainly never a week, for some years past, without letters from all sorts of places, even at the utmost ends of the earth, declaring the salvation of souls by means of one or other of the sermons." In 1867, someone from California was at a conference in Chicago and asked if a missionary could go out there to minister to the 200 people who had been saved through reading Spurgeon's sermons. A woman asked Spurgeon for help as her husband had walked out on her. He prayed for the immediate conversion of her husband. Several months later she returned with her husband. At the time of Spurgeon's prayer he was at sea and came across one of the sermons. He read it and was converted! Goodness, the anointing on those sermons!
Over time Spurgeon's illness became longer lasting and more intense; the pain sometimes was unbearable. Despite his illnesses, he tried to fulfil all his responsibilities, but he continued to overtax himself and on June 7th, 1891, when preaching, it was clear to his beloved congregation that his health was broken down. That week his illness took an alarming turn, and people began to wonder if it was fatal. Prayers were offered up three times a day at the Tabernacle and in thousands of churches across the land. All denominations were joined in praying for his healing, including Archbishops and Bishops and the Chief Rabbi. Very different from the time when so much abuse was heaped on him. Inquiries as to his condition poured into 'Westwood,' including from the Prince of Wales, nobles, statesmen, ministers and the common man. The Archbishop of Canterbury wrote a heartfelt letter to him.
He went to Mentone in the South of France to get some warmth during the winter, as he had done every year for a while. People were hoping they saw signs of recovery, but he knew it was not to be. His illness was so severe he had to take to his bed, and eleven days later, on January 31st, 1892, Charles Haddon Spurgeon died. He was buried in Norwood Cemetery amongst his Tabernacle friends and deacons. Hundreds of thousands lined the route to the cemetery at his funeral.
What an extraordinary man! Spurgeon was a man of faith, a man of prayer who kept as close as possible to God, day by day. He was full of mighty gifts, and at the same time a very humble, generous man of noble character - a rare combination. I wonder if we will see his like again. How fortunate this nation was to have at this time such men as Spurgeon, Booth and Shaftesbury to spread the word of God across our nation and the world!
Spurgeon may have had amazing gifts, but I believe he would not have led tens of thousands to the Lord if he had not preached the pure Gospel over and over again. I like to think that were he at the Metropolitan Tabernacle today, he would have had the same results. For the last 75 years we have been watering down the Gospel year by year, trying to fit the Gospel to the people, rather than the other way around. Pastors need to get back to preaching the Gospel and nothing but the Gospel, just as Charles Haddon Spurgeon did!
From, "The Life of Charles Haddon Spurgeon," by Charles Ray, 1903.
A MEMORIAL IN THE CHRISTIAN
Wherever our mother-tongue is spoken, and in those foreign lands where translations of his books circulate, there will have been a sob of genuine regret and sympathy, which, though it cannot heal the recent wound or fill the desolate blank, must do something to wards comforting those that formed the inner circle of his life. Even men who have experienced the heaviest blows which "the last of the Puritans" dealt out on behalf of the ordinary truth he loved so well, have already washed the memory of the conflict with the tears of a manly grief for the stalwart warrior, who never took an unworthy advantage of his foe, and was ever animated by the purest, but loftiest purpose. He might hit hard, but there was no suspicion of personal animosity, In the unanimous verdict of the great court of public opinion it has been a great life which, so far as this world is concerned, has now for ever closed; a life of which all Englishmen, whatever their religious convictions, may be proud. For once, the many voices that generally speak discordantly enough in our public Press, have blended in an almost unanimous testimony, when speaking of the nobility of his life and the greatness of his work.
Many elements of character have endeared him to the people, to say nothing just now of his fellow-believers. He has always spoken in a language that ordinary folk could understand and expressed in colloquial English thoughts passing many minds, but needing to be expressed. "I hate oratory," he said "I come down as low as I can. High-flying and fine language seem to me wicked when souls are perishing." Clear, terse, transparent language expressed the results of robust, strong thinking, and wide reading in the works of Puritan theology. And to this we must add the music, the charm of that marvellous voice, which could cast its spell over audiences of twenty thousand people and combined the sweetness of a flute with the volume of an organ.
It has been said that no man can wield power over men who is destitute of humour; and this quality played like summer lightning in spoken address as well as on printed page. It was homely, genial, mirthful. Many a lesson was taught in a joke. Many a weak point in an adversary's armour was indicated with a pleasantry that robbed the wound of its smart. How delightful to be in his company, especially if he met with a congenial spirit, then story would follow story, drawn apparently from inexhaustible stores, while mother wit and racy description and good- humoured sally would make the time fly fast. It was a rare treat to be in his company. And when he appeared on the public platform how easily could he put his audience and himself in touch by some genial pleasantry! And the most severe taste could hardly condemn the natural bubbling up of humour in some quaint touch during some most impressive discourse.
For forty years he has spent his life in the fullest blaze of popularity, surrounded on all hands by adulation and the evidences of unbounded affection, whilst success, such as is granted to few men, has crowned his every effort. But he never failed to be simple, humble, and sincere. Perhaps, the one feature in his character oftenest noticed by those who came into personal converse with him was his extreme humility, the absence of all affection. Strong in speech emphatic in unsparing in his criticism of those whom he deemed disloyal to truth— though he was all this on the public platform and through the press, when great interests were at stake, yet in his home and among those whom he loved and trusted he was as unaffected and simple as a child. No breath of suspicion ever blurred his fair name. No stain ever attached to an unimpeached private character.
Probably there has been no instance in the history of Christendom, of one man able to hold an audience of six thousand persons Sunday by Sunday for thirty years. And when there is added the printed sermons, reaching an average of twenty-five thousand weekly, and reprinted in every part of the world; the mass of literature which proceeded from his prolific pen; the institutions which he inaugurated and maintained; the influence which he wielded through the students that had gone from his college; it is difficult to realise that all has emanated from one brain and from one heart. Into his life he has put the work of three or four ordinary lives. Nor can we conceive that any man, during an ordinary lifetime has spoken to vaster audiences, wielded a wider influence, or won more souls for the Redeemer's kingdom than he whom we mourn today.
But chiefly he endeared himself to all who love the Truth for the clearness of his teaching on the fundamental facts. of the religion of the Lord Jesus Christ. Brought up in Calvinistic doctrine, he yet preached the Gospel freely to all men, and did not blindly permit himself to be fettered by the narrower convictions held in that school of religious thought. There was, indeed, a perceptible broadening of conviction during the course of his ministry, though to the end he held most tenaciously to the doctrines of the straightest orthodoxy. For these he was willing to suffer the loss of all things, and, indeed— as all the world knows - did not hesitate to tear himself away from valued associations and early friends, prepared, if necessary, to stand and fall alone in the defence of the truth as he understood it.
But what Christian is there, who knows anything of his teaching or writings, that does not value them for their devoutness, their unction, their breathings of love to the Redeemer, their accurate delineation of the main features of the believer's experience, their triumphant outbursts of rapture, their emphatic references to the words of promise, their yearning eagerness over the souls of men? There are few that have not been deeply in his debt for a clearer apprehension of Christian truth, for comfort, direction, quickening, and increased faith.
What a welcome he must have received as he neared the celestial portal! If an abundant entrance is ministered to any, it must have been awarded to him. If " Well-done" is addressed to any, it must have been spoken to him. If rest is sweet to any, it must be sweet to him. And as we turn away from the door through which the man, the Christian minister, the author, the philanthropist, the friend, has passed to join his peers, we feel that earth is perceptibly poorer, and its atmosphere greyer and more ashen because he has gone