The Art of IllustrationSpurgeon, C. H. (Charles Haddon)
Religion
The Art of Illustration
Spurgeon, C. H. (Charles Haddon)
Homiletical illustrations; Preaching
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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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