ME. SPURGEON THE POPULAR PREACHER.

Lyttelton Times, Volume VII, Issue 450, 25 February 1857, Page 5

ME. SPURGEON THE POPULAR PREACHER.

(From the ' Daily News.')

We are accustomed to look grave when the old mysteries and miracle-plays are mentioned. "We pit)' the ignorance of those ancestors of ours who could find food for amusement or helps to devotion in the representation of doggrel dramas, wheie God tlie Father, our Saviour, and the Holy Spirit, the Devil, Adam and Eve, and, in short, all the princi pal personages, human or supernatural, mentioned in Scripture were brought on the stage. We are ■ liable to entertain shrewd doubts as to the piety of the writers of these horrible travesties of the sacred narratives, and to lament over the crassness of the intellect of those -who could find entertainment in them. "We can pee, nothing more instructive in them than in the awful contest between the.devil and the baker, which was generally the concluding scene of the "galantee show " performances with which the Christmas "of our childhood' was enlivened. In protestant countries in general, and in England in particular, we shrink from- undue familiaiity with holy words and things. We have just as much objection to see a church turned into a theatre as to see a theatre turned into a church. We hold an opinion grounded as much on piinciples of good taste as of religion, that it is almost as offensive to see a cleigyman perform in his pulpit as to hear ' actors invoke Heaven in a theatre. This opinion, however, is not quite universally entertained. Let any person who wishes to convince himself of the truth of this, take his station opposite to Exeter Hall on a Sunday evening, at about a few' minutes before six o'clock. We say, opposite,because, unless lie ariives some time before the hour mentioned, theie will be no standing room on the pavement from which the entrance to the hall ascends. At ; 'six the doors open, and a' dense mass of human beings pours in. There is rso interruption now to the continuous stream until half-past six o'clock, when the whole of the vast hall, with its galleries and platform, will'be filled with the closely packed crowd. If the spectator has not taken care to enter before this time, lie will have but a small chance of finding even standing" room. Suppose him to have entered early enough to have found a seat. He will naturally look around him to scan the featuies of the scene. They are remaikable enough to excite attention in the minds of the most listless. Stretching far away ,ac the back are thousands of peisons evidently eager for the appearance of some one. Towering up the platfoim the seats are all crowded. Nearly all the eyes in this multitude, are directed towards the front of the platform. The breathless suspense is only broken occasionally by struggles in the body'of the hall of-those whoiare 'endeavouring 'tp g'lin or maintain a, position. Suddenly, even this noise is stopped.' A,,short "squarely-built man, with pieicing eyes, with thick

- black hair parted down the middle, with a sallow ; countenance, - only redeemed from heaviness by the restlessness of the eyes, advances along the platform, towards the seat of honour. A cataract of short coughs,'indicative of the relief .afforded to the illrepressed impatience of the assembly, announces to the stranger that the business of the evening has commenced. He will be told with a certain decree of awe by those whom he asks for information, that the person just arrived is the Rev. C.,H. Spurgeon. He will perhaps hear, in addition to this, that Mr. Spurgeon is, beyond all question, the most popular preacher in London; that he is obliged to leave off preaching in the evening at his chapel in New Park Street, S.mthwark, on account of the want of room to accommodate more than a mere fraction of the thousands who flock to hear him ; that Exeter Hall has been taken for the purpose of diminishing in a slight degree that disappointment experienced; but that nothing will be done to afford effectual relief until the new chapel in contemplation is built, and which is inteuded to hold 15,000 persons.

The service commences with a hymn read first throughout by the minister, and then sung by the congregation. The effect of the multitude singing in unison is very fine. The minister then reads a chapter, accompam'ing the reading with expositions remarkable only for the decisive tone in which they are delivered, and a strange want of comprehension of those elements of archseological knowledge which are as necessary in the study'of the Bible as in that of any other Oriental book. A hymn and a prayer, follow, and then comes the:sermon in which those peculiarities which have made Mr. Spurgeon famous, comes out in full force. The first thing that strikes the spectator is the way in which the speaker makes -himself at home with , the congregation. He is ■ " hail fellow well metI'with them directly. He addresses questions to them, he answers these questions funnily, and he contrives to let his hearers feel how much wiser they are to be sitting there than anywhere else. No phrase is too homely for him, no allusion too absurd. He. compliments their understanding, at the same time that he tells them he is not going to overtax it. Every thing he says is to be so plain that those who run may read. " I like to preach so that there shall be no mistake about it," he tells them in bo many words. He likes to use the plainest of words too. " There are some ministers who , are mealy-mouthed, afraid to speak out. These," he tells them, "are Beau Brummell ministers.''ln order to explain his allusion he relates the old story of Brummell confessing to have once eaten a pea when taxed with eating vegetables. A tumult of laughter follows this very novel story. He is not at all averse to pressing a pun into his 'service. "A man," he says, " sits down in selfsufficiency, thinking I can 'do all that.' Oh blessed day when God directs his shots' against that. I know I hugged that old idea a long time, with my ' cans,' ' cans,' ' cans,' but I found my cans would hold no water, and suffered all I put in to run out," We have already spoken of the free and easy way in which he alludes to ministers of other denominations, and other shades of belief than his own. He does not always content himself with a sneer. He represents the soul of one of the damned coming up from the pit and appearing to a minister on his death-bed, saying to him, " I came to thee often trembling on account: of; sin, I asked thee the road-to heaven, and -tliou didst say, 'Do such and such good works,' and I did them, and I am damned.' T,hen follow others,and then the minister dies, and " hears his parish come howling after him into hell." The ministers who are such especial objects of Mr. Spurgeon's aversion, and whom he impales so ferociously for his own self-glorification and the amusement of his'congregation are those, be it understood, who refuse to preach the extreme Calvanism in which he delights, for the simple reason that they cannot interpret the Holy Scriptures as he interprets them. For this they are called unfaithful, and sentenced to be howled after in hell -by the souls which they have ruined. It is not our purpose here to enter into a theological controversy on the peculiar merits of Calvanism or Armenianism, but we have surely a right to demand that when the former doctrine is preached, it should be "done" with ■stfm'el^gurd to public decency. ' Mr. 'Spur^-eon's henrerV may have become accustomed : to that gentleman's mode of 'enforcing his doctrines, but no one who has not'undergone the discipline in •which they have been exercised can listen without a' shudder to such phrases as " Christ never intended to save the damned." Surely the decency of reli-' gious worship is violated by such sentences as these "Go and try my Saviour ! If ho casts you away after you'have sought him, tell it in the pit that Christ would not hear you." " If you were lost, God's, honour would be as much tarnished as if the greatest one were'lost." • Then he'- talks of'('accusing God" if he punishes after The work ;of redenrptibrris perfcrmedj &c. But the most strltdfig''fea'ture of preaching is the strong* dramatic elggogritiwhich is so prominent. He is neVerso; happy as jfchen he can dramatise a story or some imaginary.hyjident for the benefit,of his hearers.-,' Oirthcse qcoasions.he walks up and down the platform, throws himself into

.various attitudes, gesticulates, varies his voice, and roars, bellows, or whines, as the case may demand. He has not the slightest hesitation in putting a long speech in the mouth of the Saviour. He does not at all scruple to report conversations between other persons whom he introduces into: his dramatic scenes. He speaks just as if he was alone in possession of the true and full Gospel narrative, and that what the Evangelists have handed down to us were meagre abridgements. The minds of all the persons, sacred or prolane, who are mentioned in the Holy Scriptures are open before him like a book. He knows their actions and their thoughts. The following is a rather mild specimen of the way in which the preacher is ac=customed to treat two of the persons of the Holy Trinity. He is addressing a thoughtless sinner :—

" Thou art like that man of old, whom Dionyshss placed at the head of the table : before him was a dainty feast, but the man ate not, for directly over his head was a sword suspended by a hair. 86 art thou, sinner. Lot thy cupbe full, let thy pleasuroho high, let thy Ronl be elevated. Seest thou that sword? The next time thou sittest in the theatre, look up and-'see that sword; the next time thou art in a tavern, look at that sword; when next in thy business1 thou scornest the rules 'of God's Gospel, look at that sword; -Though thou seest it not, it is there. Even now ye may hear God saying to Gabriel Gabriel, that" man "is sitting in 'his seat in the hall; he is hearing, but he is'as though he heard not. Unsheathe thy blade ; let the glittering sword cnt through that hair ; let the weapon fall upon him and divide his soul and body. Stop! Thou Gabriel; stop ! Save the man a little while. Give him yet an hour, that he may repent. Oh, let him not die. ■ True, he has been hero these ten or a dozen nights, and he has listened without a tear. But stop; peradventnre he may repent yet. Jesus backs up my entreaty, and he cries,' Spare him yet another year, till I dig about him, and dung him, and though he now cumbers the ground, he may yet bring forth fruit, that ho may not be hewn down and cast into the fire.' I thank thee, O God, thou wilt not cut him down to-night; but to-moirow:may be his last day.' We may be wrong, but it strikes us that the profanity of the last'sentence has seldom been equalled, even in the discourses of the most extravagant fanatics. The preceding portion is bad enough; the invention of speeches for God and Christy the intrusion of the speaker himself into the scene-, "backed up" by the Saviour, are monstrous;,but the claim of having obtained respite for a day for a. sinner is simply impious. We might fill columns with specimens of this pulpit buffoonery, but we have given enough to show the nature of "Mr. Spurgeon's pleaching-. We might have brought forwardinstances of his utter ignorance of any theology except that current among^the sect to which (he belongs ; and of his ludicrous misinterpretations of Scripture, occasioned by his want of' even a moderate acquaintance with Oriental customs and forms of language. Mr. Spurgeou—and possibly his congregation—would tell us that the knowledge to which we allude is the knowledge which " puffeth up' s—mere5 —mere "human learning.". If he or they ever attain to even:a small portion of this knowledge,-they will look with astonishment on the nonsense that the. one has spoken and the others have listened to. . V> re .are, however, not at all disposed to deny that the great benefits of the Gospel may be conveyed to the minds of congregations by pious men with only an 'liSfinitesimally small-portion of this ..knowledge. We will not deny that the richest flowers uf holiness may flourish ongiound which lias not'been scientifically piepared to receive them.,£,The greatest theologian of the day has said that, doubtless, many an old woman has felt the precious value of spiritual truths.more deeply,than-he himself "■•heirbe-, tries to explain ' their,. It is not want of knowledge for which we condemn Mr. Spurgeon; it is the daring assumption which he makes of exclusive knowledge ; the cunning flattery by which he insinuates that his hearers are almost the only proper persons to share this knowledge with him; the reckless denunciations of all who differ with himself; and, lastly, his audacious violations of propriety in his dramatic representations.' We have a right to reproach him with these' things, because they have the worst effects upon his hearers. A congregation that constantly listens to the spiritual dram-drinking that Mr. Spursceon encourages, will become not only bigoted, but greedy after .stronger doses of excitement. What excited them once will fall fiat upon their palate. The preacher will be obliged to 'become more and more extravagant as his audieuce hecomes more and more exciting, and the end may be an extensive development of dangerous fanaticism.