Mercy an Argument for Service – Charles Spurgeon

SITTING down in the Orphanage grounds upon one of the seats, we were talking with one of our brother trustees, when a little fellow, we should think about eight years of age, left the other boys who were playing around us, and came deliberately up to us. He opened fire upon us thus, “Please, Mister Spurgeon, I want to come and sit down on that seat between you two gentlemen.” “Come along, Bob, and tell us what you want.” “Please, Mr. Spurgeon, suppose there was a little boy who had no father, who lived in a orphanage with a lot of other little boys who had no fathers, and suppose those little boys had mothers and aunts who came once a month, and brought them apples and oranges, and gave them pennies, and suppose this little boy had no mother and no aunt, and so nobody never came to bring him nice things, don’t you think somebody ought to give him a penny? Cause, Mr. Spurgeon, that’s me. Somebody felt something wet in his eye, and Bob got a sixpence, and went off in a great state of delight. Poor little soul, he had seized the opportunity to pour out a bitterness which had rankled in his little heart, and made him miserable when the monthly visiting day came round, and, as he said, “Nobody never came to bring him nice things.” Turning the tables, we think some grown-up persons, who were once little Bobs and Harrys, might say, “Suppose there was a poor sinner who deserved to be sent to Hell, but was forgiven all his sins by sovereign grace, and made a child of God, don’t you think he ought to help on the Savior’s cause? ‘Cause, Mr. Spurgeon, that’s me.”