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I think I might date this letter from a place in the Enchanted Ground, with the warm air of Beulah blowing upon me. One drop of the pleasures I have felt is worth a life of agony. I am afraid of becoming satisfied with this world. I hope you are well. If baptized, it will be in an open river; go in just as I am with some others I trust the good confession before many witnesses will be a bond betwixt me and my Master, my Savior, and my King.
May you, in your coming years, live beneath the sweet smiles of the God of peace; may joy and singing attend your footsteps to a blissful haven of rest and tranquillity! Your birthday will now be doubly memorable, for on the third of May, the boy for whom you have so often prayed, the boy of hopes and fears, your first-born, will join the visible Church of the redeemed on earth, and will bind himself doubly to the Lord his God, by open profession.
You, my Mother, have been the great means in God's hand of rendering me what I hope I am. Your kind, warning Sabbath-evening addresses were too deeply settled on my heart to be forgotten. You, by God's blessing, prepared the way for the preached Word, and for that holy book, The Rise and Progress. If I have any courage, if I feel prepared to follow my Savior, not only into the water, but should He call me, even into the fire, I love you as the preacher to my heart of such courage, as my praying, watching Mother.
Impossible, I think it is, that I should ever cease to love you, or you to love me, yet not nearly so impossible as that the Lord our Father should cease to love either of us, be we ever so doubtful of it, or ever so disobedient. Do you not think it would be a bad beginning were I, knowing it to be my duty to be baptized, to shrink from it? If you are now as happy as I am, I can wish no more than that you may continue so. I am the happiest creature, I think, upon this globe. I hope you have enjoyed your visit, and that it will help much to establish your health.
I dare not ask you to write, for I know you are always so busy that it is quite a task to you.
Swindell's respects to you and dear Father. Your notes are so few and far between, and are such a trouble to you, that one now and then is quite a treasure. I have had two opportunities of addressing the Sun-day-school children, and have endeavored to do so as a dying being to dying beings. I am bound to Newmarket by holy bonds. I have 70 people whom I regularly visit on Saturday.
I do not give a tract, and go away; but I sit down, and endeavor to draw their attention to spiritual realities. I cannot bear to leave them. We are so feeble here that the weakest cannot be spared. We have a pretty good attendance at prayer-meetings; but so few praying men, that I am constantly called upon One of our Deacons, Mr.
Grandfather has written to me; he does not blame me for being a Baptist, but hopes I shall not be one of the tight-laced, strict-communion sort. In that, we are agreed. I certainly think we ought to forget such things in others when we come to the Lord's table. I can, and hope I shall be charitable to unbaptized Christians, though I think they are mistaken. It is not a great matter; men will differ; we ought both to follow our own consciences, and let others do the same.
I think the time would be better spent in talking upon vital godliness than in disputing about forms. I trust the Lord is weaning me daily from all self-dependence, and teaching me to look at myself as less than nothing. I know that I am perfectly dead without Him; it is His work; Imn confident that he will accomplish it, and that I shall see the face of my Beloved in His own house in glory. My enemies are many, and they hate me with cruel hatred, yet with Jehovah Jesus on my side, why should I fear? I will march on in His almighty strength to certain conquest and victory. I am so glad that Sarah, too, is called, that two of us in one household at one time should thus openly profess the Savior's name.
We are brother and sister in the Lord; may our Father often give each of us the refreshing visits of His grace! I feel as if I could say with Paul, "Would that I were even accursed, so that my brethren according to the flesh might be saved! Master H shall be attended to; be ye always ready for every good work. I have no time, but it shall be done. I joined the Church here at the Lord's table last Ordinance day. I shall write for my dismission; I intended to have done so before.
There is a very fine Wesleyan Chapel and some others. I teach in the Sunday-school all the afternoon. Leeding takes the morning work. Last Sabbath-day we had a funeral sermon from Hebrews 6: We have a prayer-meeting at 7 in the morning, and one after the evening service; they are precious means of grace, I trust, to my soul. How soon would the lamps go out did not our mighty Lord supply fresh oil; and if it were not for His unshaken promise to supply our need out of the fullness of His grace, poor indeed should we be.
Yes, where Jesus comes, He comes to reign; how I wish He would reign more in my heart; then I might hope that every atom of self, self-confidence, and self-righteousness, would be swept out of my soul. I am sure I long for the time when all evil affections, corrupt desires, and rebellious, doubting thoughts shall be overcome, and cmnpletely crushed beneath the Prince's feet, and my whole soul be made pure and holy.
But so long as I am encaged within this house of clay, I know they will lurk about, and I must have hard fighting though the victory by grace is sure. Praying is the best fighting; nothing else will keep them down. I have written a letter to grandfather; I am sorry he is so poorly. He wants the promises now, and why may not young and old live upon them? They are the bread-corn of Heaven, the meat of the Kingdom; and who that has once tasted them will turn to eat husks without any sweetness and comfort in them? God's power will keep all His children; while He says to them, "How shall ye who are dead to sin live any longer therein?
I feel constrained day by day to fall flat down upon the promises, and leave my soul in Jesu's keeping. It is He that makes my feet move even in the slow obedience which marks them at present, and every attainment of grace must come from Him. I would go forth by prayer, like the Israelites, to gather up this Heavenly manna, and live upon free-grace. Add to all your great kindness and love to me, through my life, a constant remembrance of me in your prayers. I thank you for those petitions which you and dear Mother have so often sent ttp to the mercy-seat for me.
Give my love to my sisters and brother, and accept the same for yourself and dear Mother. Hoping you are all quite well. I was last night admitted into membership with this church by dismission from Newmarket. May my future relation with them, whether brief or protracted, be for the glory of Jesus Christ I I am very fond of Mr. Roffe; I like his preaching very much. There is to be a baptizing this evening I trust that a year or two of study with Mr. I have found a great many Christian friends; last Sunday I had two invitations to tea.
I went to the house of Mr. Watts, a coal merchant, and spent the time very happily. We read round with the children, and it seemed just like home-days. I have not had a letter from Starebourne, nor from Aunt, I am quite solitary. Roffe preached a delightful sermon from "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. I think I learn more every day of my own natural depravity and love of sin: Give my best love to dear Father, and accept the same yourself. I hope you are both well: In one of my late letters to Aunt having heard you speak of her as somewhat trusting to works , I ventured, as a babe in grace, to touch upon the subject,w I trust, with becoming prudence as well as boldness.
Mixed up with it, there was a tincture of naturalism or reason. I have therefore ventured on another letter, and have, I trust, said, though feebly, what a boy should say to a dying Uncle. False fear should never prevent us from being faithful with men walking on the confines of the grave. Could I make religion more the business of my life, how happy should I be I am conscious I do not live up to my duties or my privileges, and did I not feel sure that Jesus will certainly complete what He has begun, I should never think of reaching Heaven; but, by His might, I would look confidently for it.
I have found a little work here. I have spoken twice to the Sunday-school, and am to read an Essay on some subject connected with Sunday-schools at the next meeting of the Teachers' Institute for the town. I only do so just to fill up. I have been driven to it, Mr. Watts and some others having taken their turns. I hope yet, one day, to prove myself no Antinomian, though I confess my daily sins and shortcomings; yet I would not wilfully sin, and I feel some hatred to it.
I desire to hate it more. I hope you enjoy your health, and that, with dear Father, you have much of the marrow of the gospel as your daily meat. Give my love to all at home, and accept the same for yourself and Father. I am pursuing my studies, though I can say little about progress.
Dear Mother, you are indeed very kind; how I ought to bless God for such parents! Leeding is very much obliged to you for the ham, and Mr.. Spurgeon, your son, desires to thank you for a nice cake, apples, etc. I wish you had not laid your hand on the Key to the Bible; for, if I had had it, I should have been delighted to have given it to my dear Mother. Perhaps I may take the credit for it now We have no minister yet. Leeding said, the other morning, "I need not ask you how you are; you are always well, like some tree.
I have reason to think her an eminent Christian. She is all day in pain, never goes out, and can hardly sleep. She made me think of your rheumatics. She has four little children. They are rich; her husband is a good, kind sort of man, but he is not, I fear, a renewed man. She has wave upon wave. She has no one to speak to. I think it a privilege to talk to any of God's people, to comfort and console them. We do not know how many need our prayers. My best love, dear Mother, to you and Father. Another year's journey of the vast howling wilderness have you gone; you have leaned on the arm of your Beloved, and are now nearer the gates of bliss.
Happy as the year has been, I trust, to you, yet I do not think you would wish to traverse it over again, or to go back one step of the way. Glorious, wondrous, has been the grace shown to all of us, as members of the mystical body of Christ, in preservation, restraint from sin, constraint to holiness, and perseverance in the Christian state. What shall a babe say to a mother in Israel? And yet, if I might speak, I would say, "Take this year's mercies as earnests of next year's blessings. If He had not meant to do good continually to you, He would not have done it at all.
Mark the providences of this year; how clearly have you seen His hand in things which others esteem chance! God, who has moved the world, has exercised His own vast heart and thought for you. All your life, your spiritual life, all things have worked together for good; nothing has gone wrong, for God has directed, controlled all. The mountains have not departed yet, nor the hills been removed, and till then we may have confidence that we, His own people, are secure. But I am writing what to you are everyday meditations. Well, dear Mother, you know where this comes from, only from your boy.
Let us reioice together; your prayers for us I know will be answered, they are sure to be, for God has said so. May God give you a feast,mhoney, wine, milk,mmay you be satisfied with marrow and fatness, satiated with the dainties and luxuries of religion, and rejoice exceedingly in the Lord [I remember that, a year ago, I publicly professed the name of Jesus by baptism. Pray for me, that I may not dishonor my profession, and break my solemn vow. While I look back through the year, I can see a Great Exhibition of love and grace to me, more marvellous than even that now opened in Hyde Park.
Give my love to dear Father, Archer, and sisters; and accept the same doubly. I trust all are well. I have nothing the matter with me. Many thanks for the postal order. I hope very much you will be so kind as to let me go to the Exhibition. Lewis's, has just called to see me I am going to his house to tea, he lodges with Mr. I guess I feel no mercy for him; I mean Mr. You have not written to Mr. I cannot write, for I know nothing of his whereabouts. We have had some excellent supplies.
I am very comfortable, and I may say, happy. Were it not for my vile heart, I might rejoice. I am the least of God's people, and I am sure I am the worst. I can fall into His arms, though I cannot rest on my own merits, for I have none. Jesus and Jesus alone is my defense. I know you pray for me. I think I have felt the answer to your earnest entreaties. Sometimes, I pour my heart out sweetly, freely; at another time, I can hardly bring up a petition, What a contrast, mixture, paradox I am!
I hope you and dear Mother are well. I have been busily employed every Lord's-day; not at home once yet, nor do I expect to be this year. Last Sunday, I went to a place called Waterbeach, where there is an old-established Church, but not able to support a minister. I have engaged to supply to the end of the month. They had, for twenty years, a minister who went over from Cambridge in the same way as you go to Toilesbury.
After that, they tried to have a minister; but as they could not keep him, he has left, and they will have to do as they used to do. There is rail there and back, and it is only six miles. I am glad you have such good congregations. I feel no doubt there is a great work doing there ;rathe fields are ripe unto the harvest, the seed you have sown has yielded plenty of green, let us hope there will be abundance of wheat. Give my love to dear Mother; you have indeed had trials.
I always like to see how you bear them. I think I shall never forget that time when Mother and all were so ill. How you were supported and How cheerful you were! I am quite well, I am happy to say. It is four months since I have heard anything from her, or about her. We have no settled minister yet, nor do we expect any. I thank you much for your sermon; it will just do for me.
How greatly must I admire the love that could choose me to speak the gospel, and to be the happy recipient of it! I trust my greatest concern is to grow in grace, and to go onward in the blessed course. I feel jealous lest my motive should change, fearing lest I should be my own servant instead of the Lord's. How soon may we turn aside without knowing it, and begin to seek objects below the sacred office! Grandfather has asked me to go to Srambourne, but I cannot afford to go his way. With love to you, dear Father, and all at home, I am.
I was at Waterbeach staying among my people, and so did not receive your letter till my return. I preached twice on Christmas day to crammed congregations,' and again on Sunday quite as full. The Lord give me favor in the eyes of the people; they come for miles, and are wondrously attentive. I am invited to preach at Waterbeach for six months.
My reputation in Cambridge is rather great. This letter from Mr. Smith is an honor. I have now more money for books. When I wrote my essay on my knees in the little room upstairs, I solemnly vowed to give two tithes of anything I might gain by it to the Lord's cause. I have written, the money is come I mean to keep that money only for clothes; what I earn on Sundays is my own, for books, expenses, etc. I hope I am sparing, but I have bought several books, which I could not do without. This week I have purchased a good Septuagint, which is a Greek translation of the Old Testament; you will see it mentioned by commentators.
To improve my Greek. To assist me in studying the Bible. I got it in two volumes, unbound, for 12s. Now and then you must give me leave to preach three times, not often. I have done so about four times, I was not at all tired. I shall never do so if I have had a hard day. When I feel myself in tune and not at all tired, I may do so; but only now and then. I must say, however, I always get the best congregation in the evening, or at least just as good, for sometimes it is best all day; and you would not have me give up so good a place.
I have prayed earnestly that prosperity and fame may not injure me, and I believe strength will be equal to my day. I take every opportunity of improving myself, and seize every means of improvement. I have lately attended three lectures in the Town Hall to get information; I trust I do. The conclusion of the letter is missing. Angus, the tutor of Stepney College, preached for us on Sunday, Feb.
Being at my own place, I had no opportunity of seeing him, and was very surprised, when, on Monday, I was told that he wanted to see me. I suppose the deacons of our church, hearing of my doings at Waterbeach, had thought right to mention me to him. Well, I went to the place of meeting; but, by a very singular occurrence, we missed each other; he waite in the padour, while I was shown into the drawing-room, and the servant forgot to tell him I had come. As he was going to. London, and could not wait, he wrote the enclosed. I have waited thus long because 1 I wanted to get a little more to tell you; 2 I do not want to appear to desire to go to College at' your expense.
I do not wish to go until I can pay for it with my own money, or until friends offer to help, because I do not want to burden you. It is said by almost all friends that I ought to go to College. I have no very great desire for it; in fact, none at all. Yet I have made it a matter of prayer, and I trust, yea, I am confident, God will ' guide me. Of course, you are my only earthly director and guide in these matters; your judgment always has been best; you must know best.
But perhaps you will allow me just to state my own opinion, not because I shall trust in it, but only that you may see my inclination. Whatever advantages are to be derived from such a course of study, I shall be more able to improve when my powers are more developed than they are at present. When I know more, I shall be more able to learn. Many already own that the preaching has been with power from Heaven. Now, ought I to leave them? In a few years' time, I hope to improve my financial position so as to be at no expense to you, or at least not for all.
I should not like to know that you were burdening yourself for me. I should love to work my own way as much as possible. I know you like this feeling. I am not uneducated. I have many opportunities of improvement now; all I want is more time; but even that, Mr. Leeding would give me, if it were so arranged. I have plenty of practice; and do we not learn to preach by preaching?
You know what my style is. I fancy it is not very College-like. Let it be never so bad, God has blessed it, and I believe He will yet more. All I do right, He does in me, and the might is of Him. I am now well off; I think as well off as anyone of my age, and I am sure quite as happy.
We have had some excellent supplies. My affairs are your aftairs. I preached twice on Christmas day to crammed congregations,' and again on Sunday quite as full. Only lean thou wholly on Him who has been my stay these many years and be nothing before Him. When I can do anything, I am not quite so dead. I fear the heat afflicts you. Do not, for a moment, imagine that I am cold towards you.
If I were in need I think the people might be able to raise more for me. Now, shall I throw myself out, and trust to Providence as to whether I shall ever get another place as soon as I leave College? I leave it to God and yourself, but, still, I should like you to decide in this way. Of course, I have a will, and you now know it; but I say "Not mine, but your will, and God's will.
I think it might be as well, if you think so, too, to let Mr. Angus know as much as is right of my present position, that he may be favorable toward me at any future time I hope you will excuse my scrawl, for, believe me, I am fully employed. Last night, I thought of writing; but was called out to see a dying man, and I thought I dare not refuse. The people at W. I do not know why they love me, but they do; it is the Lord's doing.
Give my love, and many thanks to dear Mother, Archer, and sisters. If at any time you think a letter from me would be useful, just hint as much, and I will write one. It was nothing you said that made your letter a sad one; it was only my thoughts of leav-. I thank you most sincerely for your very kind offer, and also for your assurance that I am at perfect liberty to act as I think it is the will of God I should act. I have desired, all along, to act the part of a dutiful son to an affectionate parent; and if I fail, I feel sure that you and dear Mother will impute it rather to my weakness in act, than to a want of love.
I have been assured that never were more tears shed in Waterbeach, at any time, than when I only hinted at leaving. They could not give me stronger tokens of their affection than they did give. One prayer went up from all, "Lord, keep him here! King that the people have had ministers whom one lot were very pleased, with, but there always was a party opposed; but now, though he has a good scope for observation, he has not heard one opinion contrary to me.
The Lord gave me favor with the people, and I am so young that they look over many faults; I believe this is one of the facts of the case. The worst is, I am in a dangerous place; the pinnacle is not so safe as the quiet vale. I know you pray that I may be kept humble, and I know I do. Oh, if the clouds pass without rain, how sorrowful I shall feellWhen I have been thinking on the many difficulties in preaching the Word, the doctrine of election has been a great comfort to me. I do want men to be saved, and it is my consolation that a multitude no man can number are by God's immutable decree ordained to eternal life.
So we cannot labor in vain, we must have some; the covenant renders that secure. I shall always be glad of some of your skeletons, for though I do not want them to make me lazy, yet they give some hints when a passage does not open at once. It will be too much trouble for you to. As to my cash, I have bought a great many books lately, for my constant work requires them, and you know Mr. I think that of course, I mean, if God prospers me, I shall be able to save enough to put myself to College, and if not, if I should go, wlfich, as you say, is not very certain, why then friends at Cambridge would help me if I could not manage it.
Has taken the positive steps yet with regard to joining the church? If not, tell her I blush that she should blush to own her Lord. Do not forget me in earnest prayer My very best love to my dear Mother. I am sure she can tell all the mothers in the world that parents' prayers are not forgotten.
I daresay you think God saved the worst first; if you do not, I do. I believe I have given you more trouble than any of the others, but I did not mean it; and I still believe that I have given you joy, too, and I hope the trouble, though not repaid, will yet be recompensed by a comfort arising from seeing me walk in the truth.
Remember me to Emily The little ones are getting big, I suppose; my love to them, I hope they will be God's daughters. Part of undated letter from C. Spurgeon to his mother; the first portion is missing: I know I shall have them, and I believe I have felt the blessing of them more than once. The Lord visit you both, and bear you up in His everlasting armslTroubles you have had, but I believe the comforts have always kept you joyful in tribulation; cast down, but not in despair.
Bless the Lord, I must say, for making me His son; 'tis of His own sovereign mercy. Not one good thing has failed. I have felt corruptions rise, and the old man is strong, but grace always comes in just at the critical time, and saves me from myself. The Lord keep melI have no hope of going on well but by His power. I know that His almighty arm is all-sufficient. Get everyone you can to pray for me; a prayer is more precious than gold, it makes me rich.
Lift up your arms, like Moses; there is a great battle both in me and out of me. Jesus intercedes; sweet thought, to one who needs just such a Pleader. Jehovah-Jesus, His people's buckler, is near; an ever-present help in time of trouble, not afar off. We live in Him, He is all around us; who shall destroy His favorites, His darlings?
I have had for one of my sermons, John God never began to love Jesus. God loves Jesus with an unbounded love. God always loved Jesus alike, equally. When will God leave off loving Jesus? Even so does Jesus love you and me. Lang-ford, and my best respects; tell him I desire a special interest in his prayers. I want to feel "less than nothing," but this is a very great attainment. Thank Father for his letter; the Lord of Hosts prosper his labors abundantly!
My very best love to yourself. I hope, if it is right, that your hands are well. Kiss the little ones, and give them my love. May they learn of Jesus! I am glad Archer gets on so well; may your ten thousand prayers for us be answered by Him that heareth prayer t Emily is stronger, I hope, ask her to think whether she loves Jesus with all her heart. I should very much like to know where Aunt lives. I have asked several times, but I have not learned yet.
I do not expect many letters from home. Father is so much engaged, that I wonder I get so many. If you want to know any points in which I am not quite explicit enough, write and ask at any time. My affairs are your aftairs. I hope always to do that which you would approve of. Extract from letter from C. Spurgeon to his mother, November, God sends such sunshine on my path, such smiles of grace, that I cannot regret if I have forfeited all my prospects for it. I am conscious that I held back from love to God and His cause, and I had rather be poor in His service than rich in my own. I have all that heart can wish for; yea, God giveth more than my desire.
My congregation is as great and loving as ever. During all the time that I have been at Waterbeach, I have had a different house for my home every Sabbath day. Fifty-two families have thus taken me in; and I have still six other invitations not yet accepted. Talk about the people not caring for me, because they give me so littlelI dare tell anybody under heaven 'tis falselThey do all they can. Our anniversary passed off grandly; six were baptized; crowds on crowds stood by the river; the chapel was afterwards crammed, both to the tea and the sermon. I hardly know what I left unsaid. I hope to be at home three days.
I hope it will be a sweet visit though a short one. Should I be settled in London, I will come and see you often. I do not anticipate going there with much pleasure. I am contented where I am; but if God has more for me to do, then let me go and trust in Him. The London people are rather higher in Calvinism than I am; but I have succeeded in bringing one church to my own views, and will trust, with Divine assistance, to do the same with another.
I am a Calvinist; I love what someone called "glorious Calvinism," but "Hyper-ism" is too hot-spiced for my palate. I found a relation in London; a daughter of Thomas Spurgeon, at Bailingdon. On the Monday, she came and brought the unmarried sister, who you will remember was at home when we called last Christmas. I shall have no objection to preach for Mr.
Langford on Wednesday, January 4th, if he wishes it. I spent the Monday in going about London, climbed to the top of St. Paul's, and left some money with the booksellers. My people are very sad; some wept bitterly at the sight of me, although I made no allusion to the subject in the pulpit, as it is too uncertain to speak of publicly. It is Calvinism they want in London, and any Arminian preaching will not be endured.
Several in the church are far before me in theological acumen; they would not admit that it is so, but they all expressed their belief that my originality, or even eccentricity, was the very thing to draw a London audience. The chapel is one of the finest in the denomination; somewhat in the style of our Cambridge Museum. Of course, it is all a lie, without an atom of foundation; and while the whole of London is talking of me, and thousands are unable to get near the door, the opinion of a penny-a-liner is of little consequence.
I beseech you not to write: Harvey, or some official, it might do good. A full reply on all points will appear next week. I only fear for you; I do not like you to be grieved. Good ballast, father, good ballast; but, oh! Last night, I could not sleep till morning light, but now my Master has cheered me; and I "hail reproach, and welcome shame.
I mean to come home April 16th. Your affectionate son, C. Last Sabbath, I preached twice in Glasgow to immense crowds. There is as much stir about me here as there is in London, and I hope souls are really being saved. I am sure you will excuse my being brief, since I have so many letters to answer, and I do not want to keep indoors, but to have all the air I can. Oh, what must God be, if such are His works! I suppose Mother is back; kiss her for me, and give my love to all. I am happy, but had rather be home again; myou will guess the reason. Spurgeon wrote two letters to his father, recounting his first experiences in London.
A considerable portion of the earlier one is missing, including the first sheet, and also the end of the epistle. Evidently, the young preacher had been relating what the deacons had told him concerning the falling-off in the congregations, for the part of his letter that has been preserved begins as follows: The people are Calvinistic, and they could not get on with anything else.
The deacons told me that, if I were there three Sundays, there would be no room anywhere. They say that all the London popular ministers are gospel-men, and are plain, simple and original. They have had most of the good preachers of our denomination out of the country; but they have never asked one of them twice, for they gave them such philosophical, or dry, learned sermons, that once was enough. I am the only one who has been asked twice, the only one who has been heard with pleasure by all.
I told them they did not know what they were doing, nor whether they were in the body or out of the body; they were so starved, that a morsel of gospel was a treat to them. Lots of them said I was Ripport over again. It is God's doing. I only mention facts.
I have not exaggerated; nor am I very exalted by it, for to leave my own dear people makes it a painful pleasure. The only thing Which pleases me is, as you will guess, that I am right about College. I told the deacons that I was not a College man, and they said, "That is to us a special recommendation, for you would not have much savor or unction if you came from College.
A church is free to manage its own affairs. We are in loving unity now, and they will improve. But churches of the Baptist denomination would think it an infringement of their rules and liberties to be touched in the least by persons of other denominations in any matter which is their own concern. I should at once say, and you would not mind my saying so, "I had nothing to do with the note; I never asked my father to write it; and the deacons must do as they please about laybig it before the church.
Many other ministers have schools; it is a usual thing. It is not right to say, "If you mean to be a minister;" for I am one, and have been for two years as much a minister as any man in England; and probably very much more so, since in that time I have preached more than 6oo times. Your silence, and my neglect, make one think of the days when letters were costly, and not of penny postage. You have doubtless heard of me as a top-tree Antinomian. I trust you know enough of me to disbelieve it. Oh, for the time when I shall drop this flesh, and be free from sin[I become more and more convinced that, to attempt to be saved by a mixed covenant of works and faith is, in the words of Berridge, "To yoke a snail with an elephant.
Poor dependent creatures, prayer had need be our constant employment, the foot of the throne our continued dwelling-place; for the Rock of Ages is our only safe Hiding-place. I rejoice in an assured knowledge by hith of my interest in Christ, and of the certainty of my eternal salvation. Yet what strivings, what conflicts, what dangers, what enemies stand in my way The foes in my heart are so strong, that they would have killed me, and sent me to hell long ere this, had the Lord left me; but, blessed be His name, His electing, redeeming, and saving love has got fast hold of me; and who is able to pluck me out of my Father's hand?
On my bended knees, I have often to cry for succor; and, bless His name, He has hitherto heard my cry. Oil, if I did not know that all the Lord's people had soul-contention, I should give up all for lost! I rejoice that the promises left on record are meant for me, as well as for every saint of His, and as such I desire to grasp them. Let the whole earth and even God's professing people, cast out my name as evil; my Lord and Master, He will not. I glory in the distinguishing grace of God, and will not, by the grace of God, step one inch from my principles, or think of adhering to the present fashionable sort of religion.
What should I do if, like you, I were called to be engaged about things of time and sense? I fear I should be neither diligent in business, nor fervent in spirit. Self is too much his master. I am proud of my own ignorance; and, like a toad, bloated with my own venomous pride,mproud of what I have not got, and boasting when I should be bemoaning. I trust you have greater freedom from your own corruptions than I have; and in secret, social, and family prayer enjoy more blessed, sanctified liberty at the footstool of mercy. The mansion is ready; the crown is made; the harp is strung; there are no willows there.
May we be enabled to go on, brave as lions, and valiant for the truth and cause of King. Jesus, and by the help of the Spirit, vow eternal warfare with every sin, and rest not until the sword of the Spirit has destroyed all the enemies in our heartslMay we be enabled to trust the Lord, for He will help us; we must conquer; we cannot be lost. ImpossiblelFor who is able to snatch us out of our Father's hand?
May the Lord bless you exceedingly! Your affectionate nephew, C. The first part of this letter to his Aunt Mrs. The body of Christians, of which for some little while I have been a member, is not distinguished for high standing in the world. I trust I shall never be rich, lest I should by force of additional temptation ever bring dishonor upon the name of Him with whom I have entered into solemn league and covenant.
Would that, as I have been buried with Him in baptism, I might have the inward spiritual grace, and be dead to the world, but alive unto the service of the Lord! I hope Uncle will not write to me until he is well. He is so very kind; but he may tire himself. I cannot in Greek get further than the Testament. We have only thirteen boys. Accept my best love and thanks to yourself and Uncle, and permit me ever to subscribe myself, Your most affectionate nephew, C.
I hope to see the Exhibition with father and mother. I say, it will be quite a treat to see them there. We have our Missionary meeting next Sabbath. Last Sunday we had old Mr. Jay of Bath; a real wonder he is. The place was crammed everywhere. He is eighty three or eighty four, I think. I do not know anything of my future steps.
I have nothing to do with it; I have no wish but to remain here, but am perfectly contented to do as friends think best. If I can earn my own living and manage to progress, all my wishes are attained. I have pursued Divinity with some ardor, and only wish that I could learn more of its wondrous mysteries, and feel more deeply the effects of its doctrines. In this course I find fresh and ever increasing delight. May I never go astray or leave the path the Bible prescribes. It is a mercy Uncle is so well.
You have had a rough year; you have been tried severely. No doubt you will derive benefit from it. Accept my best love and thanks, for whenever I write I must thank you for past kindnesses, but thanks are no returns. I have much enjoyed my three days in London, and am now happy at home. I am very thankful that, if spared, I am going back to Cambridge. Of my progress there, I am not ashamed; it should and might have been greater, but still it is somewhat.
My faults I have not learned there, I had the same at Maidstone, and I am not at all fond of having blame thrown on the place where Providence has placed me. I am all fault, but what God's grace has made right. I am content to be evil spoken of, if I can but grow in grace and serve God. Where I have most opportunity of telling sinners the way of salvation, and of preparation for a future course of labor, I trust I shall always feel most happy. Human wisdom I desire to gain, but only in subservience, and as handmaid to spiritual knowledge and Divine instruction.
Grandfather is with us now; he preached last. He shall never suffer the righteous to be moved. Mother is gone to old Mr. Merchant's 5zst Anniversary at Layer Breton. He is almost past preaching, and stands a monument of the unchanging love of God, who, having once loved a person, will always love him. The motto over his pulpit is, "We preach Christ, and Him crucified. None who rely on Jesus Christ will ever find their troubles too heavy; for all those who take Him as their whole Savior, He is a supporter.
May God deal kindly with you, and support you! Love to self and Uncle from all. I am, Your affectionate nephew, C. I have written two letters to the said gentleman, and, as he was a particular friend of mine, I begin to feel somewhat anxious seeing that I have had no reply. If you should find, among the papers he has left, any letter directed to me, I shall feel obliged by your forwarding the same.
When I was last at his house, he was extremely kind to me, and I flattered myself that, if I should ever have occasion to ask a favor, I should not be refused; or, if denied, it would be in so kind a manner that it would not look' like neglect. If he is alive, and not gone beyond the seas, please to give him my kind love the first time you meet him, and tell him I suppose he must have gout in his hands, so that he cannot write.
Should it turn out that it is so, keep all wines and spirits from him, as they are bad things for gouty folk; and be so good as to foment his hands with warm water boiled with the heads of poppies. By this treatment, the swelling will subside; and, as soon as he is able, if you find him at all tractable, put a pen in his hand, and make him write his name, and post it to me, so that I may be sure he is alive. Ah, 'tis a sad thing people will get gouty!
But perhaps he is gone. Well, poor fellow, he was not the worst that ever lived; I felt sorry to part from him the last time, and, as the Irishman said, I hoped he would, at any rate, have let me know that he was dead. I thought you were the most likely person to know him, as I have seen you at his house several times when I have been there. I trust you will just send me a line to let me know how the poor fellow is, if alive at all.
We are going to have a baptizing service on October 19, and I should be so glad to see my uncle following his Master in the water. I am almost afraid to mention the subject, lest people should charge me with giving it undue prominence; if they will do so, they must. I can bear it for my Master's sake.
I know you love my Jesus; and the mention of His name makes the tear rush to your eye, and run down your cheek. I love Him too 'well to keep back any part of my obedience. Taking the lowest view of it, suppose it is your duty, only make a supposition of it,mnow, can you go to bed happily with the bare supposition that you are refusing to practice an express command of your Redeemer?
Surely, a true lover of his Divine Master will never let even a supposed duty rest; he will want to be sure either that it is his duty, or that it is not; and knowing that, he will act accordingly. If Christ commands me to hold up my little finger, and I do not obey Him, it looks like a coolness in my love to Him; and I feel assured that I should sustain loss by the neglect.
I will not press the matter as one in authority; I only beg of you as a friend, and a dear friend, as well as a loving relative, not to forget or trifle with the commands of One dearer stfil to me. Now with regard to coming for a week to preach at Starnbourne and neighboring villages, I am yours to serve to the utmost; not on the Sabbath, but all the week.
I have a good sphere of labor here, but I want to do more, if possible. There is a great field, and the laborers must work with all their might often wish I were in China, India. It would be sweet to die preaching. If I come, I shall not mind preaching two evenings in Stambourne if you cannot get other convenient places; and I should love to have some good, thoroughly-hot prayer-meetings after the services. I wish it were possible to preach at two places in one evening, but I suppose time would hardly permit me to do that.
Consult the friends, send me word, and I am your man. As to the books, you had better bring them yourself when you come to be baptized. Elven, of Bury, is going to preach the sermon for me; and, as we have not many candidates this time, we shall all the more value your presence. I left some tracts in Mr. I should be obliged if you see after them if you go to Hedingham. I should like to go there, too, if I come. I wish to live in unity with every believer, whether Calvinist, Arminian, if not impossible , Churchman, Independent, or Wesleyan; and though I firmly believe some of them are tottering, I do not like them well enough to prop them up by my wrangling with them.
Unwin, Will Richardson, and all the good people in Stambourne, not excepting yourself. I am, Yours most truly, C. I have been expecting them for many months; but thought that, perhaps, you had no means of sending them. Send them to any station, carriage I will pay. Of course, I shall not look for an answer to my note; I never shall again expect to see your handwriting to me. I have a birch in pickle for you; and when I come to your house, I shall use it with but little mercy, so you had need have on your very thickest skin.
I might say some sharp things about the matter, but I will save them until I sit in your easy chair, or you are seated in mine. When you are in London, you will be in for a sound scolding, if you do not come to see me. I do not think you dare come, and I am sure you will not venture to stay away.
I promise you a hearty welcome. Can you see my address? I send my very best respects to your good wife; she is' certainly worth more than you, if I am to value her by the number of letters I have received. But, to joke no more, you have heard that I am now a Londoner, and a little bit of a celebrity. No College could have put me in a higher situation. Our place is one of the pinnacles of the denomination. But I have a great work to do, and have need of all the prayers the sons of God can offer for me.
I shall be glad to hear of your temporal and spiritual prosperity. Do not, for a moment, imagine that I am cold towards you. My Mastefts one aim was to spread the spirit of love among His disciples; and I trust little things will never chili my love to the brethren. Permit me, most respectfully and lovingly, to enquire, "How does the cause of God prosper?
How does your soul prosper? How is your love to the precious name of Jesus? We cannot afford to live a useless life; the sands of time are too valuable to be allowed to run on unheeded. We have a work before us, and woe be unto us if we are idle or unfaithful servants! Blessed is the man who often talks with his God alone, and comes forth from his closet, like Moses from the mountain top, with a celestial glory on his brow!
Let us seek that blessing, and may God be ever with us! Your loving aid is beyond all thanks, although it desires none. Believe me, dear brother, I value you as God's best gift to me in His work. I have enjoyed my journey here. I am not well; indeed I am, in reality, far other than most take me to be. I am content, however, if I return well enough to carry on our glorious work.
It is my place, and I hope they will have one of our men. See what they can raise, but anyhow we shall be sure to decline. I have posted views of Paris to my wife. Black-shaw will get done for lantern those marked C. Give my love to the men and beg them to live on high, to work hard, and pray fervently. Give my warm love to Lady Burgoyne, and tell her that my heart remembers her in prayer.
The same love to Emily, and more for your sake as well as hers. Peace and joy be with you both. Oh, if the clouds pass without rain, how sorrowful I shall feellWhen I have been thinking on the many difficulties in preaching the Word, the doctrine of election has been a great comfort to me. I do want men to be saved, and it is my consolation that a multitude no man can number are by God's immutable decree ordained to eternal life.
So we cannot labor in vain, we must have some; the covenant renders that secure. I shall always be glad of some of your skeletons, for though I do not want them to make me lazy, yet they give some hints when a passage does not open at once. It will be too much trouble for you to. As to my cash, I have bought a great many books lately, for my constant work requires them, and you know Mr. I think that of course, I mean, if God prospers me, I shall be able to save enough to put myself to College, and if not, if I should go, wlfich, as you say, is not very certain, why then friends at Cambridge would help me if I could not manage it.
Has taken the positive steps yet with regard to joining the church? If not, tell her I blush that she should blush to own her Lord. Do not forget me in earnest prayer My very best love to my dear Mother. I am sure she can tell all the mothers in the world that parents' prayers are not forgotten. I daresay you think God saved the worst first; if you do not, I do. I believe I have given you more trouble than any of the others, but I did not mean it; and I still believe that I have given you joy, too, and I hope the trouble, though not repaid, will yet be recompensed by a comfort arising from seeing me walk in the truth.
Remember me to Emily The little ones are getting big, I suppose; my love to them, I hope they will be God's daughters. Part of undated letter from C. Spurgeon to his mother; the first portion is missing: I know I shall have them, and I believe I have felt the blessing of them more than once.
The Lord visit you both, and bear you up in His everlasting armslTroubles you have had, but I believe the comforts have always kept you joyful in tribulation; cast down, but not in despair. Bless the Lord, I must say, for making me His son; 'tis of His own sovereign mercy. Not one good thing has failed. I have felt corruptions rise, and the old man is strong, but grace always comes in just at the critical time, and saves me from myself.
The Lord keep melI have no hope of going on well but by His power. I know that His almighty arm is all-sufficient. Get everyone you can to pray for me; a prayer is more precious than gold, it makes me rich. Lift up your arms, like Moses; there is a great battle both in me and out of me. Jesus intercedes; sweet thought, to one who needs just such a Pleader. Jehovah-Jesus, His people's buckler, is near; an ever-present help in time of trouble, not afar off. We live in Him, He is all around us; who shall destroy His favorites, His darlings? I have had for one of my sermons, John God never began to love Jesus.
God loves Jesus with an unbounded love. God always loved Jesus alike, equally. When will God leave off loving Jesus? Even so does Jesus love you and me. Lang-ford, and my best respects; tell him I desire a special interest in his prayers. I want to feel "less than nothing," but this is a very great attainment. Thank Father for his letter; the Lord of Hosts prosper his labors abundantly! My very best love to yourself. I hope, if it is right, that your hands are well.
Kiss the little ones, and give them my love. May they learn of Jesus! I am glad Archer gets on so well; may your ten thousand prayers for us be answered by Him that heareth prayer t Emily is stronger, I hope, ask her to think whether she loves Jesus with all her heart. I should very much like to know where Aunt lives. I have asked several times, but I have not learned yet. I do not expect many letters from home.
Father is so much engaged, that I wonder I get so many. If you want to know any points in which I am not quite explicit enough, write and ask at any time. My affairs are your aftairs. I hope always to do that which you would approve of. Extract from letter from C. Spurgeon to his mother, November, God sends such sunshine on my path, such smiles of grace, that I cannot regret if I have forfeited all my prospects for it.
I am conscious that I held back from love to God and His cause, and I had rather be poor in His service than rich in my own. I have all that heart can wish for; yea, God giveth more than my desire. My congregation is as great and loving as ever. During all the time that I have been at Waterbeach, I have had a different house for my home every Sabbath day.
Fifty-two families have thus taken me in; and I have still six other invitations not yet accepted. Talk about the people not caring for me, because they give me so littlelI dare tell anybody under heaven 'tis falselThey do all they can. Our anniversary passed off grandly; six were baptized; crowds on crowds stood by the river; the chapel was afterwards crammed, both to the tea and the sermon.
I hardly know what I left unsaid. I hope to be at home three days. I hope it will be a sweet visit though a short one. Should I be settled in London, I will come and see you often. I do not anticipate going there with much pleasure. I am contented where I am; but if God has more for me to do, then let me go and trust in Him.
The London people are rather higher in Calvinism than I am; but I have succeeded in bringing one church to my own views, and will trust, with Divine assistance, to do the same with another. I am a Calvinist; I love what someone called "glorious Calvinism," but "Hyper-ism" is too hot-spiced for my palate. I found a relation in London; a daughter of Thomas Spurgeon, at Bailingdon.
On the Monday, she came and brought the unmarried sister, who you will remember was at home when we called last Christmas. I shall have no objection to preach for Mr. Langford on Wednesday, January 4th, if he wishes it. I spent the Monday in going about London, climbed to the top of St. Paul's, and left some money with the booksellers. My people are very sad; some wept bitterly at the sight of me, although I made no allusion to the subject in the pulpit, as it is too uncertain to speak of publicly.
It is Calvinism they want in London, and any Arminian preaching will not be endured. Several in the church are far before me in theological acumen; they would not admit that it is so, but they all expressed their belief that my originality, or even eccentricity, was the very thing to draw a London audience. The chapel is one of the finest in the denomination; somewhat in the style of our Cambridge Museum. Of course, it is all a lie, without an atom of foundation; and while the whole of London is talking of me, and thousands are unable to get near the door, the opinion of a penny-a-liner is of little consequence.
I beseech you not to write: Harvey, or some official, it might do good. A full reply on all points will appear next week. I only fear for you; I do not like you to be grieved. Good ballast, father, good ballast; but, oh! Last night, I could not sleep till morning light, but now my Master has cheered me; and I "hail reproach, and welcome shame. I mean to come home April 16th. Your affectionate son, C.
Last Sabbath, I preached twice in Glasgow to immense crowds. There is as much stir about me here as there is in London, and I hope souls are really being saved. I am sure you will excuse my being brief, since I have so many letters to answer, and I do not want to keep indoors, but to have all the air I can. Oh, what must God be, if such are His works! I suppose Mother is back; kiss her for me, and give my love to all. I am happy, but had rather be home again; myou will guess the reason.
Spurgeon wrote two letters to his father, recounting his first experiences in London. A considerable portion of the earlier one is missing, including the first sheet, and also the end of the epistle. Evidently, the young preacher had been relating what the deacons had told him concerning the falling-off in the congregations, for the part of his letter that has been preserved begins as follows: The people are Calvinistic, and they could not get on with anything else.
The deacons told me that, if I were there three Sundays, there would be no room anywhere. They say that all the London popular ministers are gospel-men, and are plain, simple and original. They have had most of the good preachers of our denomination out of the country; but they have never asked one of them twice, for they gave them such philosophical, or dry, learned sermons, that once was enough.
I am the only one who has been asked twice, the only one who has been heard with pleasure by all. I told them they did not know what they were doing, nor whether they were in the body or out of the body; they were so starved, that a morsel of gospel was a treat to them. Lots of them said I was Ripport over again. It is God's doing. I only mention facts. I have not exaggerated; nor am I very exalted by it, for to leave my own dear people makes it a painful pleasure.
The only thing Which pleases me is, as you will guess, that I am right about College. I told the deacons that I was not a College man, and they said, "That is to us a special recommendation, for you would not have much savor or unction if you came from College. A church is free to manage its own affairs. We are in loving unity now, and they will improve. But churches of the Baptist denomination would think it an infringement of their rules and liberties to be touched in the least by persons of other denominations in any matter which is their own concern.
I should at once say, and you would not mind my saying so, "I had nothing to do with the note; I never asked my father to write it; and the deacons must do as they please about laybig it before the church. Many other ministers have schools; it is a usual thing. It is not right to say, "If you mean to be a minister;" for I am one, and have been for two years as much a minister as any man in England; and probably very much more so, since in that time I have preached more than 6oo times. Your silence, and my neglect, make one think of the days when letters were costly, and not of penny postage.
You have doubtless heard of me as a top-tree Antinomian. I trust you know enough of me to disbelieve it. Oh, for the time when I shall drop this flesh, and be free from sin[I become more and more convinced that, to attempt to be saved by a mixed covenant of works and faith is, in the words of Berridge, "To yoke a snail with an elephant. Poor dependent creatures, prayer had need be our constant employment, the foot of the throne our continued dwelling-place; for the Rock of Ages is our only safe Hiding-place.
I rejoice in an assured knowledge by hith of my interest in Christ, and of the certainty of my eternal salvation. Yet what strivings, what conflicts, what dangers, what enemies stand in my way The foes in my heart are so strong, that they would have killed me, and sent me to hell long ere this, had the Lord left me; but, blessed be His name, His electing, redeeming, and saving love has got fast hold of me; and who is able to pluck me out of my Father's hand? On my bended knees, I have often to cry for succor; and, bless His name, He has hitherto heard my cry.
Oil, if I did not know that all the Lord's people had soul-contention, I should give up all for lost! I rejoice that the promises left on record are meant for me, as well as for every saint of His, and as such I desire to grasp them. Let the whole earth and even God's professing people, cast out my name as evil; my Lord and Master, He will not.
I glory in the distinguishing grace of God, and will not, by the grace of God, step one inch from my principles, or think of adhering to the present fashionable sort of religion. What should I do if, like you, I were called to be engaged about things of time and sense? I fear I should be neither diligent in business, nor fervent in spirit. Self is too much his master. I am proud of my own ignorance; and, like a toad, bloated with my own venomous pride,mproud of what I have not got, and boasting when I should be bemoaning.
I trust you have greater freedom from your own corruptions than I have; and in secret, social, and family prayer enjoy more blessed, sanctified liberty at the footstool of mercy. The mansion is ready; the crown is made; the harp is strung; there are no willows there. May we be enabled to go on, brave as lions, and valiant for the truth and cause of King. Jesus, and by the help of the Spirit, vow eternal warfare with every sin, and rest not until the sword of the Spirit has destroyed all the enemies in our heartslMay we be enabled to trust the Lord, for He will help us; we must conquer; we cannot be lost.
ImpossiblelFor who is able to snatch us out of our Father's hand? May the Lord bless you exceedingly! Your affectionate nephew, C. The first part of this letter to his Aunt Mrs. The body of Christians, of which for some little while I have been a member, is not distinguished for high standing in the world. I trust I shall never be rich, lest I should by force of additional temptation ever bring dishonor upon the name of Him with whom I have entered into solemn league and covenant. Would that, as I have been buried with Him in baptism, I might have the inward spiritual grace, and be dead to the world, but alive unto the service of the Lord!
I hope Uncle will not write to me until he is well. He is so very kind; but he may tire himself. I cannot in Greek get further than the Testament. We have only thirteen boys. Accept my best love and thanks to yourself and Uncle, and permit me ever to subscribe myself, Your most affectionate nephew, C. I hope to see the Exhibition with father and mother. I say, it will be quite a treat to see them there. We have our Missionary meeting next Sabbath.
Last Sunday we had old Mr. Jay of Bath; a real wonder he is. The place was crammed everywhere. He is eighty three or eighty four, I think. I do not know anything of my future steps. I have nothing to do with it; I have no wish but to remain here, but am perfectly contented to do as friends think best. If I can earn my own living and manage to progress, all my wishes are attained.
I have pursued Divinity with some ardor, and only wish that I could learn more of its wondrous mysteries, and feel more deeply the effects of its doctrines. In this course I find fresh and ever increasing delight. May I never go astray or leave the path the Bible prescribes.
It is a mercy Uncle is so well. You have had a rough year; you have been tried severely. No doubt you will derive benefit from it. Accept my best love and thanks, for whenever I write I must thank you for past kindnesses, but thanks are no returns. I have much enjoyed my three days in London, and am now happy at home. I am very thankful that, if spared, I am going back to Cambridge. Of my progress there, I am not ashamed; it should and might have been greater, but still it is somewhat. My faults I have not learned there, I had the same at Maidstone, and I am not at all fond of having blame thrown on the place where Providence has placed me.
I am all fault, but what God's grace has made right. I am content to be evil spoken of, if I can but grow in grace and serve God. Where I have most opportunity of telling sinners the way of salvation, and of preparation for a future course of labor, I trust I shall always feel most happy. Human wisdom I desire to gain, but only in subservience, and as handmaid to spiritual knowledge and Divine instruction.
Grandfather is with us now; he preached last. He shall never suffer the righteous to be moved. Mother is gone to old Mr. Merchant's 5zst Anniversary at Layer Breton. He is almost past preaching, and stands a monument of the unchanging love of God, who, having once loved a person, will always love him. The motto over his pulpit is, "We preach Christ, and Him crucified. None who rely on Jesus Christ will ever find their troubles too heavy; for all those who take Him as their whole Savior, He is a supporter.
May God deal kindly with you, and support you! Love to self and Uncle from all. I am, Your affectionate nephew, C. I have written two letters to the said gentleman, and, as he was a particular friend of mine, I begin to feel somewhat anxious seeing that I have had no reply. If you should find, among the papers he has left, any letter directed to me, I shall feel obliged by your forwarding the same.
When I was last at his house, he was extremely kind to me, and I flattered myself that, if I should ever have occasion to ask a favor, I should not be refused; or, if denied, it would be in so kind a manner that it would not look' like neglect. If he is alive, and not gone beyond the seas, please to give him my kind love the first time you meet him, and tell him I suppose he must have gout in his hands, so that he cannot write.
Should it turn out that it is so, keep all wines and spirits from him, as they are bad things for gouty folk; and be so good as to foment his hands with warm water boiled with the heads of poppies. By this treatment, the swelling will subside; and, as soon as he is able, if you find him at all tractable, put a pen in his hand, and make him write his name, and post it to me, so that I may be sure he is alive. Ah, 'tis a sad thing people will get gouty! But perhaps he is gone. Well, poor fellow, he was not the worst that ever lived; I felt sorry to part from him the last time, and, as the Irishman said, I hoped he would, at any rate, have let me know that he was dead.
I thought you were the most likely person to know him, as I have seen you at his house several times when I have been there. I trust you will just send me a line to let me know how the poor fellow is, if alive at all. We are going to have a baptizing service on October 19, and I should be so glad to see my uncle following his Master in the water. I am almost afraid to mention the subject, lest people should charge me with giving it undue prominence; if they will do so, they must.
I can bear it for my Master's sake. I know you love my Jesus; and the mention of His name makes the tear rush to your eye, and run down your cheek. I love Him too 'well to keep back any part of my obedience. Taking the lowest view of it, suppose it is your duty, only make a supposition of it,mnow, can you go to bed happily with the bare supposition that you are refusing to practice an express command of your Redeemer? Surely, a true lover of his Divine Master will never let even a supposed duty rest; he will want to be sure either that it is his duty, or that it is not; and knowing that, he will act accordingly.
If Christ commands me to hold up my little finger, and I do not obey Him, it looks like a coolness in my love to Him; and I feel assured that I should sustain loss by the neglect. I will not press the matter as one in authority; I only beg of you as a friend, and a dear friend, as well as a loving relative, not to forget or trifle with the commands of One dearer stfil to me. Now with regard to coming for a week to preach at Starnbourne and neighboring villages, I am yours to serve to the utmost; not on the Sabbath, but all the week.
I have a good sphere of labor here, but I want to do more, if possible. There is a great field, and the laborers must work with all their might often wish I were in China, India. It would be sweet to die preaching. If I come, I shall not mind preaching two evenings in Stambourne if you cannot get other convenient places; and I should love to have some good, thoroughly-hot prayer-meetings after the services.
I wish it were possible to preach at two places in one evening, but I suppose time would hardly permit me to do that. Consult the friends, send me word, and I am your man. As to the books, you had better bring them yourself when you come to be baptized. Elven, of Bury, is going to preach the sermon for me; and, as we have not many candidates this time, we shall all the more value your presence. I left some tracts in Mr. I should be obliged if you see after them if you go to Hedingham. I should like to go there, too, if I come. I wish to live in unity with every believer, whether Calvinist, Arminian, if not impossible , Churchman, Independent, or Wesleyan; and though I firmly believe some of them are tottering, I do not like them well enough to prop them up by my wrangling with them.
Unwin, Will Richardson, and all the good people in Stambourne, not excepting yourself. I am, Yours most truly, C. I have been expecting them for many months; but thought that, perhaps, you had no means of sending them. Send them to any station, carriage I will pay. Of course, I shall not look for an answer to my note; I never shall again expect to see your handwriting to me. I have a birch in pickle for you; and when I come to your house, I shall use it with but little mercy, so you had need have on your very thickest skin.
I might say some sharp things about the matter, but I will save them until I sit in your easy chair, or you are seated in mine. When you are in London, you will be in for a sound scolding, if you do not come to see me. I do not think you dare come, and I am sure you will not venture to stay away. I promise you a hearty welcome. Can you see my address? I send my very best respects to your good wife; she is' certainly worth more than you, if I am to value her by the number of letters I have received. But, to joke no more, you have heard that I am now a Londoner, and a little bit of a celebrity.
No College could have put me in a higher situation. Our place is one of the pinnacles of the denomination. But I have a great work to do, and have need of all the prayers the sons of God can offer for me. I shall be glad to hear of your temporal and spiritual prosperity. Do not, for a moment, imagine that I am cold towards you.
My Mastefts one aim was to spread the spirit of love among His disciples; and I trust little things will never chili my love to the brethren. Permit me, most respectfully and lovingly, to enquire, "How does the cause of God prosper? How does your soul prosper? How is your love to the precious name of Jesus?
We cannot afford to live a useless life; the sands of time are too valuable to be allowed to run on unheeded. We have a work before us, and woe be unto us if we are idle or unfaithful servants!
Blessed is the man who often talks with his God alone, and comes forth from his closet, like Moses from the mountain top, with a celestial glory on his brow! Let us seek that blessing, and may God be ever with us! Your loving aid is beyond all thanks, although it desires none. Believe me, dear brother, I value you as God's best gift to me in His work. I have enjoyed my journey here. I am not well; indeed I am, in reality, far other than most take me to be.
I am content, however, if I return well enough to carry on our glorious work. It is my place, and I hope they will have one of our men. See what they can raise, but anyhow we shall be sure to decline. I have posted views of Paris to my wife. Black-shaw will get done for lantern those marked C.
Give my love to the men and beg them to live on high, to work hard, and pray fervently. Give my warm love to Lady Burgoyne, and tell her that my heart remembers her in prayer. The same love to Emily, and more for your sake as well as hers. Peace and joy be with you both. I send special and particular love to Messrs. Murrell and Cooper, who are sure to be out on Thursday', and the same to all others of my beloved brethren who may be there, with an emphasis for Mr. As for those who are not present I mean my love, but will not ask you to express it.
Go and see Mrs. Potier if you can. Also let me know how Mrs. Could you look in on Mr. Olney will be at home to help you. Give him my kind remembrances. The Lord be with you very richly. Your own grateful brother, C. I can hardly look at it steadily without depression, and I do not feel that I have any need to do so as yet; but I am all the more grateful to you for leaping into the breach. I have not yet heard from you how the Finchley matter turned out. I shall be relieved to know. You always have my love. Please remember me kindly to that noble band who are my true brothers in the Lord's work.
To Clarke and Smith also remember me. May they have a great harvest. No one has written to me as to how T. I hope the Lord was with him. I get better every hour, but if I were back it would not last for long I fear. The remainder of my holiday will, I trust, deepen what is so well begun.
My love to your good wifie. The Lord be with thee. Yet it ought to be a great boon to me, for fresh air, fine scenery, and cheerful company make up a powerful medicine. Preaching four sermons is not a help to rest; yet the people are so eager to hear that it ought to be a delight to me.
I trust there will be a large number to receive into fellowship when I return. It is wonderful how the increase has been sustained for so long. I can scarcely hope to see it remain at the highest level, and yet! I hope your dear wife remains better, and that your trial in that direction may be succeeded by great joy. May you long continue strong and well. I feel thankful for you that the stroke has at last fallen; the suspense must have been killing. I am at your service Tuesday and Wednesday, if I can bury the dear one.
Take all the rest you can, and I will do my best without you. The Lord be with thee, my brother. You need no words from me as to your ever-living Helper; it is only fit for me to say again, What can your brother do for you? It will be a delight to be at your service to my very utmost. I am sore grieved for thee, my brother, but the Lord hath done it. Yours, in loving sympathy, C. I am well, and I feel better than I remember to have been for years.
The Letters of C.H. Spurgeon Collected and Collated by His Son Charles Spurgeon. Mr. Spurgeon's calligraphy was characteristic of himself. In early days it was. Letters of C. H. Spurgeon [Charles Haddon Spurgeon, Iain H. Murray] on Amazon .com. *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. In this collection of Spurgeon's.
Every day I have time for reading, meditation, prayer, etc. I keep on accumulating thought from day to day. Once I gathered here a year's materials, and found it a great help all the rest of the year. It is very much so at. The Lord is very gracious to me, and I am much alone with Him. So I trust I shall gather that which it will be a joy to sow. He is humble and gracious. He is very happy with us and we with him.
These brethren go off in the morning when the hint is given. I believe I am serving my age by staying here, and gathering matter for future use. I am so deeply indebted to you for looking into detail at Stockwell, and to your dear wife also. Now we shall go ahead. Carr wTites me, singing your praises in a carmen of rapture, and the key is not too highly pitched. You are a good brother, indeed. Please remember me to all souls and all saints at Tabernacle, and to such souls and saints at Croydon as may know me.
Yours most lovingly, C. McArthur, and I earnestly hope he may succeed in his candidature for our borough; but the use of the Tabernacle for a purely political meeting would be greatly objected to, and would be very unfair to those of our friends who hold other views from mine. When a religious question is involved, the case is different; but in ordinary political conflicts we must resolve ourselves into individuals, but must not compromise the church which we officially represent.
I am for Sir William heart and soul; but I am sure that he will see that as pastor of the church in the Tabernacle I cannot use its place of worship for any matter in which the church would not be practically unanimous if I proposed to hold a political meeting there. While writing on this point, I wish you could ascertain whether Sir William feels that he has a good backing for our borough. It would be a pity to fight and lose, and worse to let in a Tory. Could there be some test-ballot or other form of healing disunion? I know nothing whatever about the supporters of Mr. Keay, or about Mr.
We will do our best for Sir William, but would like to know what chance there is, and who are with him, and who are not. Your loving brother, C. He asks me, "Well, what am I to do? He wants to live in a College House till he gets a place, but I think it would not be for the good of others. See him; pitch into him, and relieve his necessities. I don't think we can do more. Have you any wishes or suggestions as to your jubilee? Your portrait for Sword and Trowel. I want one of the same form as mine for next month's magazine.
Will you send Passmore what you think the best one? Thanks to your dear wife for her note just received. I cannot tell where we shall be. I go to Brighton, but do not want it known. I have not seen an occasion for saying anything about Sunday boats in the park, and I always wait a seasonable time for speaking. A thousand thanks for your address, and all other aid of last week. I thought you exceeding happy in that address, and several men spoke of it with special fervor. However much I may have failed in my part, you have done yours to the full, in a way which I can better appreciate than describe.
I am not able to remember a jarring feeling between us, and I do not suppose there ever will be one. Certainly the chances of it, if they ever existed, are effectually extinguished by the rare felicity of your choice in your present wedded state. Your wife was my friend long before you made her my sister, and certainly no brother or sister could be more desirable than you twain. Length of days, domestic bliss, bodily health, mental vigor, and heart repose are among the smallest of the blessings which I ask for you.
I have joined others in two ways in the tokens of regard which will be mere hints of the respect in which you are held. Our love is with you ever. Think the most hopeful things of me. I am quite uninjured as to brain, and that is the main thing. The knee must have time, but I begin to walk, go-cart fashion, with a chair. Cough is better, but voice weak. I have been nearly wiped out, but the blaster's touch is putting in the main lines, and the colors and tones will follow. I never was a "plaque" for exhibition, but with a rivet or two the plate will be good enough for a few more feedings of the multitude.
I will come home when I can move. At present I am fixed for want of fixings. Tuesday, at Malden, at Wednesday, funeral at Tabernacle, at 2. Will you go to the house, I will preach in Tabernacle. I cannot see how I am to get an address for teachers on Monday night, and get my sermon done in the toothing before I start for Penrose Street.
The Lord help us. With much love, C. My hand is not yet handy, but you see I can write handsomely. I am coming up to the surface, and no longer belong to "the submerged tenth. Every moment seems to do me good. I feel very feeble, and, after a drive, need to lie down; but the mischief has passed over, I trust.
Robertson's sermon is printed. He must be a sensation to hear. May you have milder weather. My love to your lovely wife and children and yourself. I have to be penurious with my pen, for the hand soon aches. I will write dear father tomorrow. Not many people in Mentone. All the better for my quiet.
He will help fill his father's place I trust. May you be kept up during my absence. I wish I were not forced to prolong it; but what else can I do? Love to all our brotherhood. Yours ever lovingly, C. The enclosed will need a little attention from you. This is a dear family.
A great crowd surrounded the gate this morning to see me drive out. Dear souls, it meant a good deal from many of them. You have heard that I am going to the Healthy Islands. People are so inquisitive. I hear you had a great time last Sunday. The Lord abide with you still, and make you more and more blessed in your work. These people seem resolved to eat me up. I cannot go from station to station without being besieged by gazing throngs. Every halt of the train means a deputation, a crowd, and a cheer.
Each town, besides its preaching, has its breakfasting, dining, suppering, till I am overdone, and half dead therewith. I am so longing to rest. But I am very wonderfully helped in preaching. Certainly, I never felt more liberty or power. God bless you, dear brother.
I don't often say much to you about how deeply I love you for your ever kind generous affection; but I think you know I do value you quite as well as if I were demonstrative. Please give my kindest love to Emily, who is also a dear creature. I feel a sweet repose of mind in what is being done, feeling, indeed, that my being cast into the deep sleep of inaction is a most profitable process, since I perceive that a helpmeet is being found for me.
What I might have wished for in vain, all being well, comes to me most evidently from heaven, all being better than well. Now do not come to see me to-morrow, but rest as much as you can. You must not knock up, or two cripples will be worse than one. Better, but broken-backed, and broken-kneed. No dealer would buy me except for cats' meat, and I'm not worth so much for that as I was, for I am many pounds lighter.
My warmest love abides with you. We have one young gentleman in our school whose name is Edward Ralph William Baxter Tweed; the boys tease him about his long name; but he is a very good boy, and that makes his name a good one. Everybody's name is pretty, if they are good people.
A pretty name to go to bed and get up with; it will be a long time before he will be able to say it all the way through! If anyone is called by the name of Christian, that is better than all these great words: My best love to you. I hope you will enjoy yourself, and try to make others happy, too; for then you are sure to be happy yourself; whereas, if you only look out to please yourself, you will make others uncomfortable, and will not make even yourself happy.
However, of course, you know that, and I need not tell you of it. A happy Christmas to you! I could weep for joy as I certainly am doing now to think that my beloved can so well testify to a work of grace in her soul. I knew you were really a child of God, but I did not think you had. I see my Master has been ploughing deep, and it is the deep-sown seed, struggling with the clods, which now makes your bosom heave with distress. If I know anything of spiritual symptoms, I think I know a cure for you.
Your position is not the sphere for earnest labor for Christ. You have done all you could in more ways than one; but you are not brought into actual contact either with the saints or with the sinful, sick, or miserable, whom you could serve. Active service brings with it warmth, and this tends to remove doubting, for our works thus become evidences of our calling and election. I flatter no one, but allow me to say, honestly, that few cases which have come under my notice are so satisfactory as yours.
Mark, I write not now as your admiring friend, but impartially as your Pastor. If the Lord had intended your destruction, He would not have told you such things as these, nor would He enable you so unreservedly to cast yourself upon His faithful promise. As I hope to stand at the bar of God, clear of the blood of all men, it would ill become me to flatter; and as I love you with the deepest and purest affection, far be it from me to trifle with your immortal interests; but I will say again that my gratitude to God ought to be great, as well on my own behalf as yours, that you have been so deeply schooled in the lessons of the heart, and have so frequently looked into the charnel-house of your own corruption.
There are other lessons to come, that you may be thoroughly furnished; but, oh! I loved you once, but feared you might not be an heir of Heaven ;mGod in His mercy showed me that you were indeed elect. I then thought I might without sin reveal my affection to you,rebut up to the time I saw your note, I could not imagine that you had seen such great sights, and were so thoroughly versed in soul-knowledge.
God is good, very good, infinitely good. Oh, how I prize this last gift, because I now know, more than ever, that the Giver loves the gift, and so I may love it, too, but only in subservience to His. Dear purchase of a Savior's blood, you are to me a Savior's gift, and my heart is full to overflowing with the thought of such continued goodness. I do not wonder at His goodness, for it is just like Him; but I cannot but lift up the voice of joy at His manifold mercies.
I am glad you are not here just at this moment, for I feel so deeply that I could only throw my arms around you and weep. May the choicest favors be thine, may the Angel of the Covenant be thy companion, may thy supplications be answered, and may thy conversation be with Jesus in Heaven! Farewell; unto my God and my father's God I commend you. Yours, with pure and holy affection, as well as terrestrial love, C. On June 2, , he writes: My Master gave me power and liberty.
I am persuaded souls were saved; and, as for myself, I preached like the chief of sinners, to those who, like me, were chief sinners, too. Many were the tears, and not a few the smiles. On the 23rd of the same month, a jubilant letter, which commenced thus: My congregation was enormous, I think 10, this was in a field at Hac'kney ; but certainly twice as many as at Exeter Hall. I wonder I am alive! After the service, five or six gentlemen endeavored to clear a passage, but I was borne along, amid cheers, and prayers, and shouts, for about a quarter of an hour,mreally it seemed more like a week!
I was hurried round and round the field without hope of escape until, suddenly seeing a nice open carriage, with two occupants, standing near, I sprang in, and begged them to drive away. This they most kindly did, and I stood up, waving my hat, and crying "the blessing of God be with you l" while, from thousands of heads the hats were lifted, and cheer after cheer was given. Well, I am all right now. Last Sabbath, I preached twice, and to sum up all in a word, the services were "glorious.
Patterson's place was crammed; and in the evening, Dr. Wardlaw's chapel was crowded to suffocation by more than 2, people, while persons outside declared that quite as many went away. My reception was enthusiastic; never was greater honor given to mortal man. They were just as delighted as are the people at Park Street. To-day, I have had a fine drive with my host and his daughter.
To-morrow, I am to preach here. It is quite impossible for me to be left in quiet. Already, letters come in, begging me to go here, there, and everywhere. Unless I go to the North Pole, I never can get away from my holy labor. Now to return to you again, I have had day-dreams of you while driving along, I thought you were very near me. It is not long, dearest, before I shall again enjoy your sweet society, if the providence of God permit. I knew I loved you very much before, but now I feel how necessary you are to me; and you will not lose much by my absence, if you find me, on my return, more attentive to your feelings, as wen as equally affectionate.
I can now thoroughly sympathize with your tears, became I feel in no little degree that pang of absence which my constant engagements prevented me from noticing when in London. How then must you, with so much leisure, have felt my absence from you, even though you well knew that it was unavoidable on my part! My darling, accept love of the deepest and purest kind from one who is not prone to exaggerate, but who feels that here there is no room for hyperbole. Think not that I weary myself by writing; for, dearest, it is my delight to please you, and solace an absence which must be even more dreary to you than to me, since travelling and preaching lead me to forget it.
How I love you! I long to see you; and yet it is but half-an-hour since I left you.
Comfort yourself in my absence by the thought that my heart is with you. Oh, may the ever-mercfful God be pleased to give you ease! I have been quite a long round to-day, if a "round" can be "long. I hope you will live long to hang your garments in it, every thread of them precious to me for your dear sake. Next, to Hewlett's, for a chandelier for the dining-room. Found one quite to my taste and yours. On the road, I obtained the Presburg biscuits, and within their box! They are sweetened with my love and prayers. The bedroom will look well with the wardrobe in it; at least, so I hope. It is well made; and, I believe, as nearly as I could tell, precisely all you wished for.
I bought also a table for you in case you should have to keep your bed. It rises or falls by a screw, and also winds sideways, so as to go over the bed, and then it has a flap for a book or paper, so that my dear one may read or write in comfort while lying down. I could not resist the pleasure of making this little gift to my poor suffering wifey, only hoping it might not often be in requisition, but might be a help when there was a needs-be for it. Remember, all I buy, I pay for. I have paid for everything as yet with the earnings of my pen, graciously sent me in time of need.
It is my ambition to leave nothing for you to be anxious about. I shall find the money for the curtains, etc. I must not write more; and, indeed, matter runs short, except the old, old story of a love which grieves over you, and would fain work a miracle, and raise you up to perfect health. I fear the heat afflicts you. Well did the elder say to John in Patmos, concerning those who are before the throne of God, "neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat.
I am delighted to hear that you are doing so well at College. Give my love to all the students, and tell Mr. Rogers that it always cheers me to know that the brethren bear me up in their prayers. On this little island there is a lighthouse; you see it at the top, on the left of the picture. It is much needed, for many vessels are wrecked here. We live down below, on the beach, near the square tower with a flag on it; that is a bath-house. Steamers come every two days, and then we can send letters; at other times, we are far off from everybody, alone in the wide, wide sea.
We have sheep's milk, for there is no room for cows. Fish is very plentiful, and very good. My dear boy, I trust that you will prove, by the whole of your future life, that you are truly converted to God. Your actions must be the chief proof. Remember, trees are known by their fruit, and Christians by their deeds. God bless you for ever and ever! You can trace my journey thus: I have been in stately Brussels, sniffed in odoriferous Cologne, slept in Rhine-washed Mayence, inspected regal Munich, rested in rustic Botzen, floated in palatial Venice, eaten sausage in Bologna, roamed in flowery Florence, and tarried in imperial Rome.
Everywhere protected and blessed of God, I am most grateful, and desire to come back strong for the service of God. One of my sweetest joys is to hear that a spirit of prayer is in your school, and that you participate in it. To know that you love the Lord and are mighty in prayer would be my crowning joy, and the hope that you do so already is a happy one to me.
Dear boy, I should like you to preach, but it is best that you pray. Many a preacher has proved a castaway, but never one person who had truly learned to pray. Be careful that your life is consistent with your prayers. You and your brother are differently constituted, and have different temptations, but God is able to bless you both alike, and I pray that He may do so richly. I wish you were with me here, for you are a nice companion, and if your dear mother were here, too, it would be a joyous day.