Part 4 – Who have been called Eccentric
I would fain hope that some untruthful representations of good men are the accidental results of mis-reports. In these days when reporters must furnish brief accounts of public speeches, it is almost impossible for them to do the speakers justice, for in their hurry they near inaccurately, and in their brevity they give but a partial report. Now, the omission of a single sentence may make a speaker appear very absurd and eccentric.
Of this we have a notable instance in the case of our beloved friend Mr. C. A. Davis of Bradford. His is a sweet, poetical, well-balanced mind; and yet, one would not think so from the newspaper report of a late speech at our College meeting. He is reported to have said of us, “May every hair of your head be a wax candle to light you into glory, and may you be in heaven ten minutes before the devil knows you're dead.” Assuredly this looks very outrageous as it stands; but let me personally vouch for its connection. Our friend said that he wished that he was able to express his love for us, and his hearty desires for us, and that he envied the enthusiastic ingenuity of a poor Irish woman who in thanking her benefactor exclaimed, “May … etc.” Now, the reporter in this case was a friend to us all, but probably the pressures of the printing office knocked out the previous sentences, and there stood the Catholic benediction in all its exuberance.
Do you not think it very hard that some of us can never utter a playful sentence without being criticized? Often would I speak openly to my dear friends and unbosom myself as a man might in the midst of his family, but –
“A chiel's amang ye takin' notes,
And faith he'll prent it.”
The injustice of the matter is that what a man does but once in a playful moment – and what poor slave among us does not sometimes play? - is bandied around as if it were a fair specimen of his whole life. A man in a walk chases a rare butterfly, and straightway is regarded as a mere boy who wastes his time in catching flies. For my own part, I have so long lived under a glass case, that, like the bees that I have seen at the Crystal Palace, I go on with my work and try to be indifferent to spectators. Still there have been eccentric men, and names occur to us with which the epithet is fitly connected. But I shall almost entirely confine myself to good men and true, who have really edified the church of God and led sinners to repentance.
To begin at the Reformation period, I should single out first and foremost old Hugh Latimer. The mitre upon his head did not quench either his zeal nor his wit. Is there any reformer whose name strikes with such a homely sound upon the English ear as that of Latimer? We admire Cranmer and Ridley and Hooper, and the rest of them, but we love Latimer. There is something so genuine, and as we proudly say, so thoroughly English about that honest servant of God, that whether he kisses the stake in death or rebukes kings in his life, our hearts go out towards him. Yet he was not only homely, but at times odd and quaint in his speech that for a bishop he must be regarded as very eccentric. Did he not talk of that woman who could by no means get to sleep until she begged her friends to take her to the parish church, where she had so often slept the sermon through!
Taking a great leap and coming down to modern times, we note the great religious revival under Whitefield and Wesley, and we ask – who is the eccentric man here? The answer is that several might be so named; but among them all the chief would be John Berridge of Everton. What a lump of quaintness that man was – “Odd things break forth from me,” he said, “like croakings from a raven.” Yet who thinks of him as the present without admiration? His portrait forces you to smile and you cannot read his letters without laughing; but what a power was upon him to stir the souls of men and lead them to the Saviour's feet. Once, he was admonished for asking in his prayer at Tottenham Court Road that the Lord would give his people no stale bread, but that which was baked in the oven that day. He was informed by his admonisher that it was high time he had pulled off his fool's cap (for so the petition about the fresh bread had been interpreted.) Berridge's answer draws forth my sympathy, “A fool's cap is not so readily put off as a night cap,” he replied, “one cleaves to the head, and the other to the heart.” However, the effect which the sight of Berridge produced upon the very sober mind of Andrew Fuller is well worth mentioning. He says, “I greatly admired that divine savour, which all along mingled itself with Mr. Berridge's jocularity, and sufficiently chastened it. His conversation tended to produce a frequent but guileless smile, accompanied with a tear of pleasure. His love to Christ appears to be intense. His visit left a strong and lasting impression on my heart of the beauty of holiness, of holiness almost matured.”
Rowland Hill, whom Berridge calls “Dear Rowley”, was hard at work for his Master when the old vicar was going off the stage; and well did he carry out the old man's advice, - “Study not to be a fine preacher; Jerichos are blown down with rams' horns. Look simply unto Jesus for preaching food, and what is needed will be given, and what is given will be blest, whether it be a barley or a wheaten loaf, or a crust or a crumb. Your mouth will be a flowing stream, or a fountain sealed, according as your heart is.”
With Rowland Hill we naturally associate Matthew Wilks, who kept the Tabernacle full while Mr. Hill crowded Surrey Chapel. Of both of these we hope to speak more fully further on. America at the time of her first formation produced “back-woods” preachers of a rare eccentric order, such as Jacob Gruber, William Hibbard, James Oxley, Peter Cartwright, and others of a brave fraternity of men who laboured with the axe in their hands and the gospel on their ready tongues. Think of going to a charge where the people write. “Be sure and send us a good swimmer, for he will have to cross no end of rivers”. “George,” said Bishop Asbury to George Roberts, “Where are your clothes?” “Bishop, they are on my back” This man carried needle and thread in case of accident to his one set of garments.
To say the least it is remarkable that eccentricity and usefulness seem to so often go together. These wicked eccentric people, who are frequently condemned, have nevertheless, it turns out, been among the most useful men of their times.
One of Latimer's “homely” illustrations, of which Spurgeon speaks, concerns a certain preacher of the Order of Gray Friars. He only ever preached one sermon – on the Ten Commandments – and so, became known as Friar John Ten Commandments. His servant complained bitterly of this state of affairs, and urged him to preach on some other subject. “Belike, then,” said the Friar, “thou knowest the ten commandments well, seeing thou has heard them so many a time.” “Yea,” said the servant, “I warrant you.” But, when asked to list them he repeated the seven deadly sins instead of the ten commandments. “And so there are many at this time,” pronounced Latimer, “Which be weary of the old gospel. They would fain hear some new thing, but are no more skilful in the old than this servant was in the Commandments.”
This Page Title – Spurgeon's Eccentric Preachers (Part 4) The Wicket Gate Magazine "A Continuing Witness". Internet Edition number 10# – placed on line May 2015 Wicket Gate contact address – Mr Cliff Westcombe cw@wicketgate.co.uk If you wish to be notified when each new edition goes on line please send an e-mail to the above address Magazine web address – www.wicketgate.co.uk |