udest, and the most
notorious preacher in London--little more; the idol of people who dare
not go to theatres, and yet pant for theatrical excitement.

When Mr. Whiteside finished his five hours' oration on Kars, Lord
Palmerston replied, that the honourable gentleman's speech was highly
creditable to his physical powers. A similar reply would be suitable to
Mr. Spurgeon. You come away, having gained nothing except it may be a
deeper disgust for the class of preachers of which Mr. Spurgeon is a
type. We have heard somewhat too much of Negative Theology--it is time
we protest against the Positive Theology of such men as Mr. Spurgeon.
There are no doubts or difficulties in his path. The last time I heard
the reverend gentleman, he had the audacity to assure us that the reason
God allowed wicked men to live was, that as he knew they were to be
damned, he thought they might have a little pleasure first. Mr. Spurgeon
is one of the elect. His flock are in the same happy condition. God
chooses them out of the ruins of the fall, and makes them heirs of
everlasting life, while he suffers the rest of the world to continue in
sin, and consummate their guilt by well-deserved punishment. If he sins,
it matters little; 'for that vengeance incurred by me has already fallen
upon Christ my substitute, and only the chastisement shall remain for
me.' Mr. Spurgeon has heard people represent 'God as the Father of the
whole universe. It surprises me that any readers of the Bible should so
talk.' To the higher regions of thought Mr. Spurgeon seems an utter
stranger--all his ideas are physical; when he speaks of the Master, it is
not of his holy life or divine teaching, but his death. 'Christians,' he
exclaims, 'you have here your Saviour. See his Father's _vengeful_ sword
sheathed in his heart--behold his death-agonies--see the clammy sweat
upon his brow--mark his tongue cleaving to the roof of his mouth--hear
his sighs and groans upon the cross.' Again, he exclaims, 'Make light of
thee, sweet Jesus! Oh, when I see thee _with thy shirt of gore_,
wrestling in Gethsemane--when I behold him _with a river of blood_
rolling down his shoulders,' &c. All his sermons abound with similar
instances of exaggerated misconception.

Mr. Spurgeon steps on the very threshold of great and glorious thoughts,
and stops there. Of God he speaks as irreverently as of Christ. 'Oh!'
cries the sinner, 'I will not have thee for a God.' 'Wilt thou not