WHERE CAN WE FIND ANECDOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS?
Charles Spurgeon · The Art of Illustration
Dear brethren: After my last lecture to you, upon the uses of anecdotes
and illustrations, you are probably quite ready to employ them in your
discourses; but some of you may ask, "Where can we get them?" At the
very beginning of this afternoon's talk, let me say that _nobody need
make anecdotes_ in order to interest a congregation. I have heard of one
who called to see a minister on a Friday, and he was told by the servant
that her master could not be seen, for he was up in his study "making
anecdotes." That kind of work will not do for a Christian minister. I
would also bid you beware of the many common anecdotes, which are often
repeated, but which I half suspect could not be proved to be matters of
fact. Whenever I have the slightest suspicion about the truth of a
story, I drop it at once; and I think that every one else should do the
same. So long as the anecdotes are current, and are generally believed,
and provided they can be used for a profitable purpose, I believe they
may be told, without any affirmation as to their truthfulness being made
in a court of justice; but the moment any doubt comes across the mind of
the preacher as to whether the tale is at least founded on fact, I think
he had better look for something else, for he has the whole world to go
to as a storehouse of illustration.
* * * * *
If you want to interest your congregation, and keep up their attention,
you can find anecdotes and illustrations in many channels, like golden
grains glistening among the mountain streams. For instance, there is
_current history_. You may take up the daily newspaper, and find
illustrations there. In my little book, "The Bible and the Newspaper," I
have given specimens of how this may be done; and when I was preparing
the present lecture, I took up a newspaper to see if I could find an
illustration in it, and I soon found one. There was an account of a man
at Wandsworth, who was discovered, with a gun and a dog, trespassing on
some gentleman's preserves, and he said that he was only looking for
mushrooms! Can you imagine what the gun and the dog had to do with
mushrooms? However, the keeper felt in the man's pocket, and laying
hold of something soft, asked, "What is this!" "Oh," said the poacher,
"it is only a rabbit!" When it was suggested to him that the creature's
ears were too long for a rabbit, he said that it was only a leveret,
whereas it proved to be a very fine and plump hare. The man then said
that he had found the hare lying near some mushrooms, but his intention
was to get the mushrooms only! Now, that is a capital illustration. As
soon as ever you lay hold of a man, and begin to accuse him of sin, he
says, "Sin, sir! Oh, dear, no! I was only doing a very proper thing,
just what I have a perfect right to do; I was looking for mushrooms; I
was not poaching!" You press him a little more closely, and try to bring
him to conviction of sin; and then he says, "Well, perhaps it was hardly
the thing, it may have been a little amiss; but it was only a rabbit!"
When the man cannot any longer deny that he is guilty of sin, he says
that it was only a very little one; and it is long before you can get
him to admit that sin is exceeding sinful; indeed, no human power can
ever produce genuine conviction in the heart of a single sinner; it must
be the work of the Holy Spirit.
I also read in the same newspaper of a calamitous shipwreck caused
through the lack of lights. You could easily turn that incident to
account by using it to illustrate the destruction of souls through the
want of a knowledge of Christ. I have no doubt, if you were to take up
any of this morning's daily papers, you would very readily find an
abundance of illustrations. Mr. Newman Hall, in addressing us once, said
that every Christian minister ought to read regularly his Bible and _The
Times_ newspaper. I should imagine from the usual mode of his address
that he does so himself. Whether you read that particular paper or any
other, you should somehow keep yourselves well stored with illustrations
taken from the ordinary transactions going on round about you. I pity
even a Sunday-school teacher, much more a minister of the gospel, who
could not make use of such incidents as the terrible burning of the
church at Santiago, the great fire at London Bridge, the entrance into
London of the Princess Alexandra, the taking of the census; and, indeed,
anything that attracts public attention. There is in all these events an
illustration, a simile, an allegory, which may point a moral and adorn a
tale.
* * * * *
You may sometimes adapt _local history_ to the illustration of your
subject. When a minister is preaching in any particular district he
will often find it best to catch the ears of the people, and engross
their attention, by relating some anecdote that relates to the place
where they live. Whenever I can, I get the histories of various
counties; for, having to go into all sorts of country towns and villages
to preach, I find that there is a great deal of useful material to be
dug out of even dull, dry, topographical books. They begin, perhaps,
with the name of John Smith, laborer, the man who keeps the parish
register, and winds up the parish clock, and makes mouse-traps, and
catches rats, and does fifty other useful things; but if you have the
patience to read on, you will find much information that you could get
nowhere else, and you will probably meet with many incidents and
anecdotes that you can use as illustrations of the truth you are seeking
to set forth.
Preaching at Winslow, in Buckinghamshire, it would not be at all amiss
to introduce the incident of good Benjamin Keach, the pastor of the
Baptist church in that town, standing in the pillory in the market-place
in the year 1664, "for writing, printing, and publishing a schismatical
book entitled, 'The Child's Instructor; or, a New and Easy Primmer.'" I
do not think, however, that if I were preaching at Wapping I should
call the people "_Wapping_ sinners," as Rowland Hill is said to have
done, when he told them that "Christ could save old sinners, great
sinners, yea, even Wapping sinners!" At Craven Chapel it would be most
appropriate to tell the story of Lord Craven, who was packing up his
goods to go into the country at the time of the Great Plague of London,
when his servant said to him, "My lord, does your God live only in the
country?" "No," replied Lord Craven, "he is here as well as there."
"Well, then," said the servant, "if I were your lordship, I think I
would stop here; you will be as safe in the city as in the country;" and
Lord Craven did stop there, relying upon the good providence of God.
* * * * *
Besides this, brethren, you have the marvelous storehouse of _ancient
and modern history_--Roman, Greek, and English--with which, of course,
you are seeking to become well acquainted. Who can possibly read the old
classic tales without feeling his soul on fire? As you rise from their
perusal, you will not merely be familiar with the events which happened
in "the brave days of old," but you will have learned many lessons that
may be of service in your preaching to-day. For instance, there is the
story of Phidias and the statue of the god which he had carved. After
he had finished it, he had chiseled in the corner, in small letters, the
word "Phidias," and it was objected that the statue could not be
worshiped as a god, nor considered sacred, while it bore the sculptor's
name. It was even seriously questioned whether Phidias should not be
stoned to death because he had so desecrated the statue. How could he
dare, they asked, to put his own name on the image of a god? So, some of
us are very apt to want to put our little names down at the bottom of
any work which we have done for God, that we may be remembered, whereas
we ought rather to upbraid ourselves for wishing to have any of the
credit of that which God the Holy Ghost enables us to do.
Then there is that other story of an ancient sculptor, who was about to
put the image of a god into a heathen temple, although he had not
finished that portion of the statue which was to be embedded in the
wall. The priest demurred, and declared that the statue was not
completed. The sculptor said, "That part of the god will never be seen,
for it will be built into the wall." "The gods can see in the wall,"
answered the priest. In like manner, the most private parts of our
life--those secret matters that can never reach the human eye--are
still under the ken of the Almighty, and ought to be attended to with
the greatest care. It is not sufficient for us to maintain our public
reputation among our fellow-creatures, for our God can see in the wall;
he notices our coldness in the closet of communion, and he perceives our
faults and failures in the family.
Trying once to set forth how the Lord Jesus Christ delights in his
people because they are his own handiwork, I found a classic story of
Cyrus extremely useful. When showing a foreign ambassador round his
garden, Cyrus said to him, "You cannot possibly take such an interest in
these flowers and trees as I do, for I laid out the whole garden myself,
and every plant here I planted with my own hand. I have watered them,
and I have seen them grow, I have been a husbandman to them, and
therefore I love them far better than you can." So, the Lord Jesus
Christ loves the fair garden of his church, because he laid it all out,
and planted it with his own gracious hand, and he has watched over every
plant, and nourished and cherished it.
The days of the Crusaders are a peculiarly rich period for noble stories
that will make good illustrations. We read that the soldiers of Godfrey
de Bouillon, when they came within sight of the city of Jerusalem, were
so charmed with the view that they fell on their faces, and then rose to
their feet, and clapped their hands, and made the mountains ring with
their shouts of joy. Thus, when we get within sight of the New
Jerusalem, our happy home on high, whose name is ever dear to us, we
will make our dying-chamber ring with hallelujahs, and even the angels
shall hear our songs of praise and thanksgiving. It is also recorded,
concerning this same Godfrey, that, when he had entered Jerusalem at the
head of his victorious army, he refused to wear the crown with which his
soldiers wanted to deck his brow. "For," said he, "why should I wear a
crown of gold in the city where my Lord wore a crown of thorns!" This is
a good lesson for us to learn for ourselves, and to teach to our people.
In the world where Christ was despised and rejected of men, it would be
unseemly for a Christian to be seeking to win earthly honors, or
ambitiously hunting after fame. The disciple must not think of being
above his Master, nor the servant above his Lord.
Then you might easily make an illustration out of that romantic story,
which may or may not be true, of Queen Eleanor sucking the poison out of
her husband's wounded arm. Many of us, I trust, would be willing, as it
were, to suck out all the slander and venom from the arm of Christ's
church, and to bear any amount of suffering ourselves, so long as the
church itself might escape and live. Would not any one of you, my
brethren, gladly put his lips to the envenomed wounds of the church
to-day, and suffer even unto death, sooner than let the doctrines of
Christ be impugned, and the cause of God be dishonored?
* * * * *
What a fine field of illustration lies open to you in _religious
history_! It is difficult to tell where to begin digging in this mine of
precious treasure. The story of Luther and the Jew might be used to set
forth the evil of sin, and how to avoid it. A Jew was seeking an
opportunity of stabbing the Reformer; but Luther received a portrait of
the would-be murderer, so that, wherever he went, he was on his guard
against the assassin. Using this fact himself as an illustration, Luther
said: "God knows that there are sins that would destroy us, and he has
therefore given us portraits of them in his Word, so that, wherever we
see them, we may say, 'That is a sin that would stab me; I must beware
of that evil thing, and keep out of its way.'"
Stout Hugh Latimer, in that famous story of an incident in his trial
before several bishops, brings out very clearly the omnipresence and
omniscience of God, and the care that we ought to exercise in the
presence of One who can read our most secret thoughts and imaginations.
He says: "I was once in examination before five or six bishops, where I
had much trouble; thrice every week I came to examinations, and many
traps and snares were laid to get something.... At last I was brought
forth to be examined in a chamber hung with arras, where I was wont to
be examined; but now at this time the chamber was somewhat altered. For
whereas, before, there was wont always to be a fire in the chimney, now
the fire was taken away, and arras hung over the chimney, and the table
stood near the fireplace. There was, among the bishops who examined me,
one with whom I had been very familiar, and took him for my great
friend, an aged man, and he sat next to the table's end. Then, among all
other questions, he put forth a very subtle and crafty one, and such a
one, indeed, as I could not think so great danger in. And when I should
make answer, 'I pray you, Mr. Latimer,' said one, 'speak out; I am very
thick of hearing, and there may be many that sit far off.' I marveled at
this, that I was bid to speak out, and began to suspect, and give an
ear to the chimney; and there I heard a pen writing in the chimney
behind the cloth. They had appointed one there to write all mine
answers, for they made sure that I should not start from them; and there
was no starting from them. God was my good Lord, and gave me answer,
else I could never have escaped." Preaching, some years afterward,
Latimer himself told the story, and applied the illustration. "My
hearer," said he, "there is a recording pen always at work behind the
arras, taking down all thou sayest, and noting all thou doest: therefore
be thou careful that thy words and acts are worthy of record in God's
Book of Remembrance."
You might aptly illustrate the doctrine of God's special providential
care of his servants by relating the story of John Knox, who, one
evening, refused to sit in his usual seat, though he did not know any
particular reason for so acting. No one was allowed to occupy that
chair, and during the evening a shot came in through the window, and
struck a candlestick that stood immediately opposite where John Knox
would have been sitting if he had taken his accustomed place. There is
also the case of the godly minister, who, in escaping from his
persecutors, went into a hay-loft, and hid himself in the hay. The
soldiers went into the place, pricking and thrusting with their swords
and bayonets, and the good man even felt the cold steel touch the sole
of his foot, and the scratch which was made remained for years: yet his
enemies did not discover him. Afterward a hen came and laid an egg every
day hard by the place where he was hidden, and so he was sustained as
well as preserved until it was safe for him to leave his hiding-place.
It was either the same minister, or one of his persecuted brethren, who
was providentially protected by such a humble agent as a spider. This is
the story as I have read it: "Receiving friendly warning of an intended
attempt to apprehend him, and finding men were on his track, he took
refuge in a malt-house, and crept into the empty kiln, where he lay
down. Immediately after, he saw a spider lower itself across the narrow
entrance by which he had got in, thus fixing the first line of what was
soon wrought into a large and beautiful web. The weaver and the web,
placed directly between him and the light, were very conspicuous. He was
so much struck with the skill and diligence of the spider, and so much
absorbed in watching her work, that he forgot his own danger. By the
time the network was completed, crossing and re-crossing the mouth of
the kiln in every direction, his pursuers came into the malt-house to
search for him. He noted their steps, and listened to their cruel words
while they looked about. Then they came close to the kiln, and he
overheard one say to another, 'It's no use to look in _there_; the old
villain can never be there: _look at that spider's web; he could never
have got in there without breaking it_.' Without further search they
went to seek elsewhere, and he escaped safely out of their hands."
There is another story I have somewhere met with, of a prisoner, during
the American war, who was put into a cell in which there was a little
slit, through which a soldier's eye always watched him day and night.
Whatever the prisoner did, whether he ate, or drank, or slept, the
sentinel's eye was perpetually gazing at him; and the thought of it, he
said, was perfectly dreadful to him, it almost drove him mad; he could
not bear the idea of having that man's eye always scrutinizing him. He
could scarcely sleep; his very breathing became a misery, because, turn
which way he would, he could never escape from the gaze of that
soldier's eye. That story might be used as an illustration of the fact
that God's omniscient eye is always looking at every one of us.
I remember making two or three of my congregation speak out pretty
loudly by telling them this story, which I read in a tract. I suppose it
may be true; I receive it as reliable, and I wish I could tell it as it
is printed. A Christian minister, residing near the backwoods, took a
walk one evening for silent meditation. He went much farther than he
intended, and, missing the track, wandered away into the woods. He kept
on, endeavoring to find the road to his home; but failed to do so. He
was afraid that he would have to spend the night in some tree; but
suddenly, as he was going forward, he saw the glimmer of lights in the
distance, and therefore pressed on, hoping to find shelter in a friendly
cottage. A strange sight met his gaze; a meeting was being held in a
clearing in the middle of the woods, the place being lit up with blazing
pine-torches. He thought, "Well, here are some Christian people met to
worship God; I am glad that what I thought was an awkward mistake in
losing my way has brought me here; I may, perhaps, both do good and get
good."
To his horror, however, he found that it was an atheistical gathering,
and that the speakers were venting their blasphemous thoughts against
God with very great boldness and determination. The minister sat down
full of grief. A young man declared that he did not believe in the
existence of God, and dared Jehovah to destroy him then and there if
there was such a God. The good man's heart was meditating how he ought
to reply, but his tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of his mouth; and
the infidel orator sat down amid loud acclamations of admiration and
approval. Our friend did not wish to be a craven, or to hold back in the
day of battle, and therefore he was almost inclined to rise and speak,
when a hale, burly man, who had passed the meridian of life, but who was
still exceedingly vigorous, and seemed a strong, muscular clearer of the
backwoods, rose and said, "I should like to speak if you will give me a
hearing. I am not going to say anything about the topic which has been
discussed by the orator who has just sat down; I am only going to tell
you a fact: will you hear me?" "Yes, yes," they shouted; it was a free
discussion, so they would hear him, especially as he was not going to
controvert. "A week ago," he began, "I was working up yonder, on the
river's bank, felling trees. You know the rapids down below. Well, while
I was at my employment, at some little distance from them, I heard cries
and shrieks, mingled with prayers to God for help. I ran down to the
water's edge, for I guessed what was the matter. There I saw a young
man, who could not manage his boat; the current was getting the mastery
of him, and he was drifting down the stream, and ere long, unless some
one had interposed, he would most certainly have been swept over the
falls, and carried down to a dreadful death. I saw that young man kneel
down in the boat, and pray to the Most High God, by the love of Christ,
and by his precious blood, to save him. He confessed that he had been an
infidel; but said that, if he might but be delivered this once, he would
declare his belief in God. I at once sprang into the river. My arms are
not very weak, I think, though they are not so strong as they used to
be. I managed to get into the boat, turned her round, brought her to the
shore, and so I saved that young man's life; and that young man is the
one who has just sat down, and who has been denying the existence of
God, and daring the Most High to destroy him!" Of course I used that
story to show that it was an easy thing to brag and boast about holding
infidel sentiments in a place of safety; but that, when men come into
peril of their lives, then they talk in a very different fashion.
There is a capital story, which exemplifies the need of going up to the
house of God, not merely to listen to the preacher, but to seek the
Lord. A certain lady had gone to the communion in a Scotch church, and
had greatly enjoyed the service. When she reached her home, she inquired
who the preacher was, and she was informed that it was Mr. Ebenezer
Erskine. The lady said that she would go again, the next Sabbath, to
hear him. She went, but she was not profited in the least; the sermon
did not seem to have any unction or power about it. She went to Mr.
Erskine, and told him of her experience at the two services. "Ah,
madam," said he, "the first Sabbath you came to meet the Lord Jesus
Christ, and you had a blessing; but the second Sabbath you came to hear
Ebenezer Erskine, and you had no blessing, and you had no right to
expect any." You see, brethren, a preacher might talk to the people, in
general terms, about coming to worship God, and not merely to hear the
minister, yet no effect might be produced by his words, for there might
not be anything sufficiently striking to remain in the memory; but after
such an anecdote as this one about Mr. Erskine and the lady, who could
forget the lesson that was intended to be taught?
* * * * *
Well, now, supposing that you have exhausted all the illustrations to be
found in current history, in local history, in ancient and modern
history, and in religious history--which I do not think you will do
unless you are yourselves exhausted--you may then turn to _natural
history_, where you will find illustrations and anecdotes in great
abundance; and you need never feel any qualms of conscience about using
the facts of nature to illustrate the truths of Scripture, because there
is a sound philosophy to support the use of such illustrations. It is a
fact that can easily be accounted for, that people will more readily
receive the truth of revelation if you link it with some kindred truth
in natural history, or anything that is visible to the eye, than if you
give them a bare statement of the doctrine itself. Besides, there is
this important fact that must not be forgotten: the God who is the
Author of revelation is also the Author of creation, and providence, and
history, and everything else from which you ought to draw your
illustrations. When you use natural history to illustrate the
Scriptures, you are only explaining one of God's books by another volume
that he has written.
It is just as if you had before you two works by one author, who had, in
the first place, written a book for children; and then, in the second
place, had prepared a volume of more profound instruction for persons
of riper years and higher culture. At times, when you found obscure and
difficult passages in the work meant for the more advanced scholars, you
would refer to the little book which was intended for the younger folk,
and you would say, "We know that this means so-and-so, because that is
how the matter is explained in the book for beginners." So creation,
providence, and history are all books which God has written for those to
read who have eyes, written for those who have ears to hear his voice in
them, written even for carnal men to read, that they may see something
of God therein. But the other glorious Book is written for you who are
taught of God, and made spiritual and holy. Oftentimes, by turning to
the primer, you will get something out of that simple narrative which
will elucidate and illustrate the more difficult classic, for that is
what the Word of God is to you.
There is a certain type of thought which God has followed in all things.
What he made with his Word has a similarity to the Word itself by which
he made it; and the visible is the symbol of the invisible, because the
same thought of God runs through it all. There is a touch of the divine
finger in all that God has made; so that the things which are apparent
to our senses have certain resemblances to the things which do not
appear. That which can be seen, and tasted, and touched, and handled is
meant to be to us the outward and visible sign of a something which we
find in the Word of God, and in our spiritual experience, which is the
inward and the spiritual grace; so that there is nothing forced and
unnatural in bringing nature to illustrate grace; it was ordained of God
for that very purpose. Range over the whole of creation for your
similes; do not confine yourself to any particular branch of natural
history. The congregation of one very learned doctor complained that he
gave them spiders continuously by way of illustration. It would be
better to give the people a spider or two occasionally, and then to vary
the instruction by stories, and anecdotes, and similes, and metaphors
drawn from geology, astronomy, botany, or any of the other sciences
which will help to shed a side-light upon the Scriptures.
If you keep your eyes open, you will not see even a dog following his
master, nor a mouse peeping up from his hole, nor will you hear even a
gentle scratching behind the wainscot without getting something to weave
into your sermons if your faculties are all on the alert. When you go
home to-night, and sit by your fireside, you ought not to be able to
take up your domestic cat without finding that which will furnish you
with an illustration. How soft are pussy's pads, and yet, in a moment,
if she is angered, how sharp will be her claws! How like to temptation,
soft and gentle when first it cometh to us, but how deadly, how damnable
the wounds it causeth ere long!
I recollect using, with very considerable effect in a sermon, an
incident that occurred in my own garden. There was a dog which was in
the habit of coming through the fence and scratching in my flower beds,
to the manifest spoiling of the gardener's toil and temper. Walking in
the garden one Saturday afternoon, and preparing my sermon for the
following day, I saw the four-footed creature--rather a scurvy specimen,
by the by--and having a walking-stick in my hand, I threw it at him with
all my might, at the same time giving him some good advice about going
home. Now, what should my canine friend do but turn round, pick up the
stick in his mouth, and bring it, and lay it down at my feet, wagging
his tail all the while in expectation of my thanks and kind words? Of
course, you do not suppose that I kicked him, or threw the stick at him
any more. I felt quite ashamed of myself, and I told him that he was
welcome to stay as long as he liked, and to come as often as he pleased.
There was an instance of the power of non-resistance, submission,
patience, and trust, in overcoming even righteous anger. I used that
illustration in preaching the next day, and I did not feel that I had at
all degraded myself by telling the story.
Most of us have read Alphonse Karr's book, "A Tour Round my Garden." Why
does not somebody write "A Tour Round my Dining-Table," or, "A Tour
Round my Kitchen"? I believe a most interesting volume of the kind might
be written by any man who had his eyes open to see the analogies of
nature. I remember that, one day, when I lived in Cambridge, I wanted a
sermon very badly; and I could not fix upon a subject, when, all at
once, I noticed a number of birds on the slates of the opposite house.
As I looked closely at them, I saw that there was a canary, which had
escaped from somebody's house, and a lot of sparrows had surrounded it,
and kept pecking at it. There was my text at once: "Mine heritage is
unto me as a speckled bird, the birds round about are against her."
* * * * *
Once more, brethren, if you cannot find illustrations in natural
history, or any of the other histories I have mentioned, _find them
anywhere_. Anything that occurs around you, if you have but brains in
your head, will be of service to you; but if you are really to interest
and profit your congregations, you will need to keep your eyes open, and
to use all the powers with which the Lord has endowed you. If you do so,
you will find that, in simply walking through the streets, something or
other will suggest a passage of Scripture, or will help you, when you
have chosen your text, to open it up to the people so as really to
arrest their attention, and convey the truth to their minds and hearts.
For instance, the snow to-day covered all the ground, and the black soil
looked fair and white. It is thus with some men under transient
reformations; they look as holy, and as heavenly, and as pure as though
they were saints; but when the sun of trial arises, and a little heat of
temptation cometh upon them, how soon do they reveal their true
blackness, and all their surface goodliness melteth away!
The whole world is hung round by God with pictures; and the preacher has
only to take them down, one by one, and hold them up before his
congregation, and he will be sure to enlist their interest in the
subject he is seeking to illustrate. But he must have his own eyes
open, or he will not see these pictures. Solomon said, "The wise man's
eyes are in his head," and addressing such a man, he wrote, "Let thine
eyes look right on, and let thine eyelids look straight before thee."
Why does he speak of seeing with the eyelids? I think he means that the
eyelids are to shut in what the eyes have perceived. You know that there
is all the difference in the world between a man with eyes and one with
no eyes. One sits down by a stream, and sees much to interest and
instruct him; but another, at the same place, is like the gentleman of
whom Wordsworth wrote:
A primrose by a river's brim
A yellow primrose was to him,
And it was nothing more.
If you find any difficulty in illustrating your subject, I should
strongly recommend you to _try to teach children_ whenever you can get
an opportunity of doing so. I do not know a better way of schooling your
own mind to the use of illustrations than frequently to take a class in
the Sunday-school, or to give addresses to the scholars as often as you
can; because, if you do not illustrate _there_, you will have your
lesson or your address illustrated for you very strikingly. You will
find that the children will do it by their general worry and
inattention, or by their talk and play. I used to have a class of boys
when I was a Sunday-school teacher, and if I was ever a little dull,
they began to make wheels of themselves, twisting round on the forms on
which they sat. That was a very plain intimation to me that I must give
them an illustration or an anecdote; and I learned to tell stories
partly by being obliged to tell them. One boy whom I had in the class
used to say to me, "This is very dull, teacher; can't you pitch us a
yarn?" Of course he was a naughty boy, and you may suppose that he went
to the bad when he grew up, though I am not at all sure that he did; but
I used to try and pitch him the yarn that he wanted in order to get his
attention again. And I dare say that some of our hearers, if they were
allowed to speak out during the sermon, would ask us to pitch them a
yarn--that is, to give them something to interest them. I believe that
one of the best things you can do to teach either the old or the young
is to give them plenty of anecdotes and illustrations.
* * * * *
I think it would be very useful to some of you who are not yet adepts at
the art of illustration if you were to _read hooks in which there is an
abundance of metaphor, simile, and emblem_. I am not going fully into
that subject on this occasion, because this lecture is only preliminary
to the next two that I hope to deliver, in which I will try to give you
a list of cyclopedias of anecdotes and illustrations, and books of
fables, emblems, and parables; but I advise you to study such works as
Gurnall's "Christian in Complete Armor," or Matthew Henry's
"Commentary," with the distinct view of noticing all the illustrations,
emblems, metaphors, and similes that you can find. I should even select
_non_-comparisons; I like Keach's "Metaphors," where he points out the
disparity between the type and the Antitype. Sometimes, the contrasts
between different persons or objects will be as instructive as their
resemblances.
When you have read the book once, and tried to mark all the figures, go
through it again, and note all the illustrations you missed in your
first reading. You will probably have missed many; and you will be
surprised to find that there are _illustrations even in the words
themselves_. How frequently a word is itself a picture! Some of the most
expressive words that are found in human language are like rich gems,
which have passed before your eye very often, but you have not had time
to handle or to value them. In your second examination of the book, you
will notice, perhaps, what eluded you the first time, and you will find
many illustrations which are merely hinted at, instead of being given at
length. Do as I have recommended with a great many books. Get copies
that you can afford to mark with a colored pencil, so that you will be
sure to see the illustrations readily; or put them down in one of your
note-books.
I am sure that those brethren who begin early to keep a record of such
things act wisely. The commonplace-books of the old Puritans were
invaluable to them. They would never have been able to have compiled
such marvelous works as they did if they had not been careful in
collecting and arranging their matter under different heads; and thus,
all that they had ever read upon any subject was embalmed and preserved,
and they could readily refer to any point that they might require, and
refresh their memories and verify their quotations. Some of us, who are
very busy, may be excused from that task; we must do the best we can;
but some of you, who go to smaller charges, in the country especially,
ought to keep a commonplace-book, or else I am afraid you will get to be
very commonplace yourselves.
Your selection of similes, metaphors, parables, and emblems will not be
complete unless you also _search the Scriptures to find the
illustrations that are recorded there_. Biblical allusions are the most
effective methods of illustrating and enforcing the truths of the
gospel; and the preacher who is familiar with his Bible will never be at
a loss for an instance of that which "is profitable for doctrine, for
reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness." The Lord
must have meant us thus to use his Word, otherwise he would not have
given us, in the Old Testament, such a number of types and symbols of
truths, to be afterward more fully revealed under the gospel
dispensation.
Such a collection of illustrations as I have suggested will come very
handy to you in future days, and you will be reminded, by the
comparisons and figures used by others, to make comparisons and figures
for yourself. Familiarity with anything makes us _au fait_ at it; we can
learn to do almost anything by practice. I suppose that I could, by
degrees, learn to make a tub if I spent my time with a man engaged in
that business. I should know how to put the staves and the hoops if I
stayed long enough in the cooper's yard; and I have no doubt that any of
you could learn anything you desired provided you had sufficient time
and opportunity. So, if you search for illustrations, you will learn to
make them for yourselves.
* * * * *
That brings me to my last point. I began this lecture by warning you
against the practice of making anecdotes; I close it by advising you
often to _set yourself the task of making illustrations_. Try to make
comparisons from the things round about you. I think it would be well,
sometimes, to shut the door of your study, and say to yourself, "I will
not go out of this room until I have made at least half a dozen good
illustrations." The Chinese say that the intellect lies in the stomach,
and that the affections are there too. I think they are right on the
latter point, because, you know, if you are ever very fond of
anybody--your wife, for instance--you say that you could eat her; and
you also say that such and such a person is very sweet. So, too, the
intellect may lie in the stomach; and consequently, when you have been
shut in for two or three hours, and begin to want your dinner or tea,
you may be quickened into the making of the six illustrations I have
mentioned as a minimum. Your study would be a veritable prison if you
could not make as many useful comparisons as that from the different
objects in the room. I should say that a prison itself would furnish
suggestions for making many metaphors. I do not wish you to go to prison
for that purpose; but if you ever do get there, you ought to be able to
learn how to preach in an interesting manner upon such a passage as
this--"Bring my soul out of prison;" or this, "He was there in the
prison. But the Lord was with Joseph."
If you cannot get your brains to work in the house, you might take a
walk, and say to yourself, "I will wander over the fields, or I will get
into the garden, or I will stroll in the wood, and see if I cannot find
some illustration or other." You might even go and look in at a
shop-window, and see if there are not some illustrations to be
discovered there. Or you might stand still a little while, and hear what
people say as they go by; or stop where there is a little knot of
idlers, and try to hear what they are talking about, and see what symbol
you can make out of it. You should also spend as much time as you can
visiting the sick; that will be a most profitable thing to do, for in
that sacred service you will have many opportunities of getting
illustrations from the tried children of God as you hear their varied
experiences. It is wonderful what pages of a new cyclopedia of
illustrative teaching you might find written out with indelible ink if
you went visiting the sick, or even in talking with children. Many of
them will say things that you will be able to quote with good effect in
your sermons. At any rate, do make up your mind that you will attract
and interest the people by the way in which you set the gospel before
them. Half the battle lies in making the attempt, in coming to this
determined resolution, "God helping me, I will teach the people by
parables, by similes, by illustrations, by anything that will be helpful
to them; and I will seek to be a thoroughly interesting preacher of the
Word."
I earnestly hope you will practise the art of making illustrations. I
will try to prepare a little set of exercises for you to do week by
week. I shall give you some subject and some object, between which there
is a likeness; and I shall get you to try to see the resemblance, and to
find out what comparisons can be instituted between them. I shall also,
if I can, give you some subject without an object, and then say to you,
"Illustrate that; tell us, for instance, what virtue is like." Or,
sometimes, I may give you the object without the subject, thus--"A
diamond; how will you use that as an illustration?" Then, sometimes, I
may give you neither the subject nor the object, but just say, "Bring
me an illustration." I think we might, in this way, make a set of
exercises which would be very useful to you all.
The way to get a mind worth having is to get one well stored with things
worth keeping. Of course, the man who has the most illustrations in his
head will be the one who will use the most illustrations in his
discourses. There are some preachers who have the bump of illustration
fully developed; they are sure to illustrate their subject, they cannot
help it. There are some men who always see "likes"; they catch a
comparison long before others see it. If any of you say that you are not
good at illustrating, I reply, "My brother, you must try to grow horns
if you have not any on your head." You may never be able to develop any
vast amount of imagination or fancy if you do not possess it at the
first--just as it is hard to make a cheese out of a millstone--but by
diligent attention to this matter you may improve upon what you now are.
I do believe that some fellows have a depression in their craniums where
there ought to be a bump. I knew a young man, who tried hard to get into
this college; but he never saw how to join things together unless he
tied them by their tails. He brought out a book; and when I read it, I
found at once that it was full of my stories and illustrations; that is
to say, every illustration or story in the book was one that I had used,
but there was not one of them that was related as it ought to have been.
This man had so told the story that it was not there at all; the very
point which I had brought out he had carefully omitted, and every bit of
it was told correctly except the one thing that was the essence of the
whole. Of course, I was glad that I did not have that brother in the
college; he might have been an ornament to us by his deficiencies, but
we can do without such ornaments, indeed, we have had enough of them
already.
Finally, dear brethren, do try with all your might to get the power to
see a parable, a simile, an illustration, wherever it is to be seen; for
to a great extent this is one of the most important qualifications of
the man who is to be a public speaker, and especially of the man who is
to be an efficient preacher of the gospel of Christ. If the Lord Jesus
made such frequent use of parables, it must be right for us to do the
same.
LECTURE V.