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         One of my earliest recollections of childhood is of sleeping in a bedroom that contained a large-sized photograph hanging on the wall. The picture was of an old bearded man with spectacles half-way down his nose. His signature was underneath — C. H. Spurgeon. My parents had been married at Spurgeon's Metropolitan Tabernacle, and my grandparents were members there for many years, having been baptized by Spurgeon himself.

         My grandfather's legacy was a great one. For fifty-four years he taught in the Sunday School of the then Stockwell Orphanage. As a boy he took me to see the Tabernacle; he regailed me with stories of Spurgeon's ministry; and he left me his set of the Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit. It rather amuses me today when some authors put pen to paper and write their 'lives' of the great man. They have culled their material from earlier biographies; they know little or nothing first-hand, as it was my privilege to learn from my late father and grandfather. Some of their biographies could well be entitled, "The Misunderstood Spurgeon."

         For this reason I am thrilled that the volumes of sermons are being reprinted by Pilgrim Publications, for these sermons contain many autobiographical details which have never been incorporated in printed biographies of Spurgeon. Besides that, they are soul-saving sermons, doctrinal sermons, designed to build up believers, and indeed, commentaries on the Bible books themselves.

         Converted at the age of 12, I began preaching at 16 years of age. When God had given me a text for a preaching engagement, I always went to Spurgeon's sermons before any other commentary. If he had not preached upon my text I often felt God had given me the wrong one! To me he was more than the famous Prince of Preachers, he was the Prince of Commentators. Where other commentators were difficult to understand at the age of 16, Spurgeon was crystal-clear to me, as I hope he was when I passed on his sermon material to others in the village chapels in which I was privilege to preach.

         Naturally I considered myself "Spurgeonic" enough to apply to Spurgeon's College, London for theological and ministerial training. After that I went to my first church in the northeast of England. There I found that my doctor, a Scotsman, had been brought up on Spurgeon's sermons in his Highland home. There I found under a rostrum a discarded oil painting of C. H. Spurgeon (which I restored, and which has graced every Manse in which I have lived), and there in my congregation was an elderly lady who prophesied again and again: "In a few years' time, you will be Pastor of the Metropolitan Tabernacle."

         Her prophesy came true, and it was my task to go to the ruins of the second Tabernacle (blitzed during the second World War) and design an appeal brochure to be circulated on a world-wide basis, appealing for funds for re-building Spurgeon's famous church. The third Tabernacle was opened free of debt in October 1959.

         During the 6 years of ministry in London, I lectured on "Spurgeon on Revival," which was subsequently published in book form (by Zondervan Publishing House, currently out-of-print, but will be reprinted by Pilgrim later). So far we have not seen the revival in England that we long for and pray for. It might well be that the re-publication of the Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit will be an instrument of God for such a spiritual awakening. As the volumes go out into the homes of Christian people; as they get into the hands of Christian pastors, may they be such a blessing that ordinary Christians will be built up in their most holy faith, and Christian ministers be given the secret of power in the pulpit once again.

         Dr. W. Robertson Nicoll once stated that "in Scotland he (Spurgeon) was even more regarded than in England, and in America perhaps his fame stood higher than anywhere else." It seems only right then that this gigantic publication project should emanate from the United States. May God bless it, volume by volume, as they are offered to the public.

written in 1961 by  Eric W. Hayden  — England

also read the  INTERVIEW  with Eric Hayden on Spurgeon

         My father was for ever telling me about the funeral of Charles Spurgeon. He had, as a boy of 12, been in the five-mile-long crowd that stretched from church to cemetery. He remembered that his father was crying as the cortege went by at its slow rate of progress.

         My grandfather was an Essex man, just like the man being buried. He came up to the metropolis to find work. He attended the Metropolitan Tabernacle where Spurgeon was pastor for 30 years, and there met his future wife, a young girl from Tal-y-Bont, near Aberystwyth. She too had come to London to find work, eventually entering service. They married and had four sons and one daughter. The latter died young and two of the sons were killed during the first world war.

         Grandfather William Hayden came to the Metropolitan Tabernacle in 1880, sitting in pew 49. I still have his copy of "Our Own Hymnbook" with the pew number entered in. For 54 years he was joint-superintendent of the Sunday school of Spurgeon's Orphan Homes when they were at Stockwell, South London. When I went to stay with him for the weekend, how I envied his orphan boys every Sunday afternoon. Along with his Bible, he took a huge bag of sweets and toffees. But I was not allowed to eat any of them. They were for orphans only.

         No wonder he was in tears at the funeral on February 10, 1892. He had "sat under" Spurgeon for twelve years, and every Sunday night he read one of Spurgeon's published sermons. Most of my own complete collections of the 63 volumes (plus my set of Spurgeon's magazine, The Sword and the Trowel) belonged to my grandfather, each sermon "dated" in pencil indicating the night on which he read it.

         These volumes were passed on to my father, and then to me. Upon retirement, I passed them on, two a month, to a Czechoslovakian Baptist pastor, for I was then receiving the newly-published volumes from Pilgrim Publications of America, having written a "capsule" history for the dust jacket of each volume (also Published in a single book — Highlights in the Life of C. H. Spurgeon, $6.00).

         Spurgeon had chosen his own burial place. Initially he wanted to be buried in the middle of the quadrangle of the Orphan Homes of Stockwell, but the development of the new Electric Railway made this impossible. Instead he decided on West Norwood Cemetery, where hundreds of his deacons, elders and members had been buried. His wish for a plain stone with "C.H.S." engraved on it (reminiscent of John Calvin's) was not obeyed. His church officers decided on a more ornate memorial to their Guv'nor, as they called him.

         The tomb was damaged by enemy bombing during the second world war blitz on London.

         While on leave from the army I actually looked into the grave, through the damaged door, and saw Spurgeon's coffin with faded palm leaf crown still intact. By then Mrs. Susannah Spurgeon lay beside him.

         During his 30 years' ministry at the Metropolitan Tabernacle, 14,691 people were received into church membership. When he died there were 5,311 names on the church roll. There were 22 mission stations with 8034 Sunday school scholars.

         Spurgeon died at Mentone in the south of France. In England it was difficult to buy a copy of a newspaper that day; they all made the news of his death a major item. He "lay in state" in the Tabernacle upon arrival in England, over 60,000 passing through the building to pay their respects. Shops and pubic houses along the funeral route closed their doors. Many of them were draped in black, as were the women.

         As the coffin was lowered into the grave, on top of the coffin was an open Bible, open at the text that was instrumental in Spurgeon's conversion as a boy of 16 — Isaiah 45:22 — "Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth: for I am God, and there is none else."

NOTES OF INTEREST Remarks made at C. H. Spurgeon's Jubilee Testimonial Service in London England, June 18, 1884
(3)        DWIGHT L. MOODY HIS PUBLIC TESTIMONY ON

INTRODUCTION OF D. L. MOODY

by C. H. Spurgeon

I want you now to hear me a moment while I say that the brother who is now about to speak, MR. MOODY, is one whom we all love. He is not only one whom we all love, but he is evidently one whom God loves. We feel devoutly grateful to Almighty God for raising him up, and for sending him to England to preach the gospel to such great numbers with such plainness and power. We shall continue to pray for him when he has gone home. Among the things we shall pray for will be that he may come back again. I might quote the language of an old Scotch song with regard to Prince Charlie —

"Bonnie Moody's gang awa. Will ye no come back again?

Better love ye canna' be, will ye no come back again?"

Now let us give him as good a cheer as ever we can when he stands up to speak...

The Rev. D. L. Moody —

         Mr. Spurgeon said earlier tonight that he has felt like weeping. I have tried to keep back the tears. I have not succeeded very well. I remember, seventeen years ago, coming into this building a perfect stranger. Twenty-five years ago, after I was converted, I began to read of a young man preaching in London with great power, and a desire seized me to hear him, never expecting that some day I should be a preacher. Everything I could get hold of in print that he ever said I read.

         I knew very little about religious things when I was converted. I did not have what he has had — a praying father. My father died before I was four years old. I was thinking of that tonight as I saw Mr. Spurgeon's venerable father here by his side. He has the advantage of me in that respect, and he perhaps got an earlier start than he would have got if he had not had that praying father. His mother I have not met, his father I have; but most good men have praying mothers — God bless them.

         In 1867, I made my way across the sea, and if ever there was a sea-sick man for fourteen days, I was that one. The first place to which I came was this building. I was told that I could not get in without a [free] ticket, but I made up my mind to get in somehow, and I succeeded. I well remember seating myself in the gallery. I remember the very seat, and I should like to take it back to America with me.

         As your dear Pastor walked to the platform, my eyes just feasted upon him, and my heart's desire for years was at last accomplished. It happened to be the year you preached in the Agricultural Hall. I followed you up there, and you sent me back to America a better man. Then I went to try and preach myself, though at the time I little thought I should ever be able to do so. While I was here I followed Mr. Spurgeon everywhere, and when at home people asked me if I had gone to this and that cathedral, I had to say "No," and confess I was ignorant of them; but I could tell them something about the meetings addressed by Mr. Spurgeon.

         In 1872 I thought I would come over again to learn a little more, and again I found my way back to this gallery. I have been here a great many times since, and I never come into the building without getting a blessing to my soul. I think I have had as great a one here tonight as at any other time I have been in this Tabernacle. When I look down on these orphan boys, when I think of the 600 servants of God who have gone out from the College to preach the gospel, of the 1,500 or 2,000 sermons from this pulpit that are in print, and of the multitude of books that have come from the Pastor's pen — (Scripture says of the making of books there is no end, and in his case it is indeed true) — I would fain enlarge upon even more of these good works, but the clock shows me that if I do, I shall not get to my other meeting tonight in time.

         But let me just say this, if God can use Mr. Spurgeon why not the rest of us, and why should not we all just lay ourselves at the Master's feet, and say "Send me, use me" ? It is not Mr. Spurgeon after all, it is God. He is as weak as any other man away from him. Moses was nothing, but it was Moses' God. Samson was nothing when he lost his strength, but when it came back to him then he was a mighty man; and so, dear friends, bear in mind that if we can just link our weakness to God's strength we can go forth and be a blessing in the world.

         Now, there are others here to speak, and I have also to hasten away to another meeting, but I want to say to you, Mr. Spurgeon, "God bless you." I know that you love me, but I assure you I love you a thousand times more than you can ever love me, because you have been such a blessing to me, while I have been a very little blessing to you. When I think of a man or woman who has been in this Tabernacle time after time and heard the gospel, I pity them deep down in my heart if they are found among the lost. I have read your sermons for twenty-five years, and what has cheered my heart has been that in them was no uncertain sound.

         In closing, let me give you a poem that one of our American Indians wrote. The first line began with "go on," the second line was "go on," and the third line was "go on," and this was all he could write. I say "go on, brother, and God bless you." YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO DIE. John Wesley lives more today than when he was in the flesh; Whitefield lives more today than when he was on this earth; John Knox lives more today than at any other period of his life; and Martin Luther, who has been gone over 400 years, still lives. Bear in mind, friends, that our dear brother is to live for ever. We may never meet together again in the flesh, but by the blessing of God I will meet you up yonder.

from Metropolitan Tabernacle: Its History and Work, and, Mr. Spurgeon's 1884 Jubilee Services (2 books in 1) Reprinted by Pilgrim, 1990, pgs. 8-9

The Rev. John Spurgeon —

         My dear friends, they say all things work together for good. I have a very bad cold for one thing, and have nearly lost my voice, and that is a very good reason why I should not speak tonight, because you will not hear me if I attempt it.

         However, this young man here makes me think of MY father. He was eighty-four year of age, and when we were out walking together he walked so fast that I lagged behind, and he said, "Come on, boy; what makes you lag behind?" Charles is now a better man to walk than I am, but in ten years' time we shall see, if we live, who can walk the best. When I was a little boy I suppose I had some curious ways, the same as all boys have. I was walking with my father down the road; I walked with my toes in — pigeon-toed, as it is called — and when he saw it he boxed my ears, and said, "You naughty boy, why don't you put your feet right?" and the necessity of doing so has been impressed upon my mind ever since. He was a very good man, was my father. My father did all in his power to give me a good education, and advised me to make the best use of it; but I have never had the advantages enjoyed by some ministers, for, like Mr. Moody, I have gathered up my knowledge, comparatively speaking, as I went along.

         But I think I have done my fair share of preaching. I have preached 45 years, and the Lord has blessed it. What do you think the text was of the first sermon I ever preached? Why, "God is love!" and don't you think I could preach from it tonight? He has taken care of me all my life long. He gave me a kind father and mother, who prayed very much for me, and their prayers were heard. And my son has had a praying father and mother, and his mother's prayers have been heard, and the Lord has taken care of him. What a mercy it was that that boy was converted when he was! And it was in consequence of his mother's prayers.

         My heart rejoices that I can say, "God is love," that he loved me, and gave himself for me, and redeemed my soul from death. His love has made me happy, and he has indeed been a God of love to raise up two such sons as I have. My father had five sons, and they all had two sons each, and not one of their sons can preach; but my two boys can speak very well [C. H. and brother James], and so can my son's two boys [Spurgeon's twins: Thomas and Charles], God bless them! I wish Tom was here tonight.

         Last year we had a Jubilee wedding, and then we sang "Hallelujah!" I said "God is love" then, and now at this second Jubilee I again say "God is love." I lost my father and mother, but kind friends were raised up for me; and whatever circumstances have arisen, I have been able to say, "God is love." I do rejoice in that good old doctrine. My friends, do not forget this, that God is so full of love that he could not forgive sin without his law being magnified, and that he gave his Son to be a substitute for sinners.

         Do you all love Jesus? If not, go to him tonight and ask him to bless you, and give you a new heart. I want to see you all in heaven. I am an old man now, and cannot expect to live long in this world; but if any of you have not sought the Lord, go search for him this very night, and if you ask him to give you a new heart and a right spirit, he will not say you nay.

         God bless this church, the Orphanage, the College, and all the institutions! My dear son, I am very happy to see you tonight so well; God bless you!

C. H. Spurgeon — I may say that I did not originally choose him as my father, but if it had been left to my choice, no other should have filled his place. May God bless him in his latter days.

from Metropolitan Tabernacle: Its History and Work, and, Mr. Spurgeon's 1884 Jubilee Services (2 books in 1) Reprinted by Pilgrim, 1990, pgs. 13-14

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