p. 10 | SPURGEON’S ONLY DEBT

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Apr 28, 1898

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 24, No. 17.

SPURGEON’S ONLY DEBT.

FROM volume one of the “Autobiography of Spurgeon,” just published in London, the following is extracted. It should not only be read carefully, but the lesson should be heeded:—

“When I was a very small boy in pinafores and went to a woman’s school, it so happened that I wanted a stick of slate-pencil and had no money to buy it with. I was afraid of being scolded for losing my pencil so often, for I was a real careless little fellow, and so did not care to ask at home. What then was I to do?”

“There was a little shop in the place, where nuts and tops and cakes and balls were sold by old Mrs. Pearson, and sometimes I had seen boys and girls get trusted by the old lady. I argued with myself that Christmas was coming, and that somebody or other would be sure to give me a penny then and perhaps even a whole silver sixpence. I would, therefore, go into debt for a stick of slate-pencil and be sure to pay at Christmas. I did not feel easy about it, but still I screwed my courage up and went into the shop. One farthing was the amount, and as I had never owed anything before, and my credit was good, the pencil was handed over by the kind dame, and I was in debt. It did not please me much, and I felt as if I had done wrong, but I little knew how soon I should smart for it.”

“How my father came to hear of this little stroke of business I never knew; but some little bird or other whistled it to him, and he was very soon down upon me in right earnest. God bless him for it; he was a sensible man, and none of your children-spoilers; he did not intend to bring up his children to speculate, and play at what big rogues call ‘financiering,’ and therefore he knocked my getting into debt on the head at once, and no mistake. He gave me a very powerful lecture upon getting into debt, and how like it was to stealing, and upon the way in which people were ruined by it, and how a boy who would owe a farthing might one day owe a hundred pounds, and get into prison, and bring his family into disgrace. It was a lecture, indeed; I think I can hear it now, and can feel my ears tingle at the recollection of it. Then I was marched off to the shop, like a deserter marched into barracks, crying bitterly all down the street, and feeling dreadfully ashamed, because I thought everybody knew I was in debt. The farthing was paid, amid many solemn warnings, and the poor debtor was set free, like a bird let out of a cage. How sweet it felt to be out of debt! How did my little heart vow and declare that nothing should ever tempt me into debt again!”

“It was a fine lesson, and I have never forgotten it. If all the boys were inoculated with the same doctrine when they were young, it would be as good as a fortune to them, and save them wagon-loads of trouble in after life. God bless my father, say I, and send a breed of such fathers into old England to save her from being eaten up with villainy, for what with companies, and schemes, and paper money, the nation is getting to be as rotten as touchwood! Ever since that early sickening, I have hated debt as Luther hated the pope.”