From G. Holden Pike, The Life and Work of Charles Haddon Spurgeon, 5 vols. (London: Cassel, n.d.), 5:138-40.

[In the autumn of 1874] a passage-at-arms on the subject of smoking occurred between Spurgeon and Dr. Pentecost. . . . The latter had been received as a brother preacher at the chapel and as a guest at Clapham. After visiting the Continent, the Tabernacle was revisited. "On this occasion Mr. Spurgeon invited him to divide the sermon, proposing that one should lay down the doctrine, and that the other should close by enforcing and illustrating the subject. With no thought beyond the illustration of the subject, Dr. Pentecost related his own struggle with the cigar. Mr. Spurgeon, as a smoker, made the application personal, and, when the brother sat down, immediately arose and combated what had been said."¹ Perhaps the most graphic description of what took place within the Tabernacle, however, was given by a morning newspaper:—

"Last Sunday evening, at the Metropolitan Tabernacle, the deservedly popular, unquestionably benevolent, and eminently shrewd Mr. Spurgeon was preaching a sermon on the sinfulness of little sins—a somewhat favourite topic among Nonconformist clergymen, and on which, under the title of 'The Little Foxes,' some curious lay-sermons have been written by Mrs. Harriet Beecher-Stowe.

"The gist of Mr. Spurgeon's discourse was that habitual indulgence in little sins leads to the commission of great ones—a position enforced by one of the most famous English divines in the illustration of the 'boy who plays with the devil's rattles.'

"At the close of his useful sermon the minister introduced an American clergyman who, he said, was anxious to address a few words to the congregation. This reverend gentleman 'improved the opportunity' by inveighing fiercely against the sin of smoking tobacco, especially in the form of cigars, and told his hearers how he had struggled and fought against the pernicious habit, and how at last, by the blessing and with the assistance of Providence, he had conquered his addiction to the weed.

"Then uprose Mr. Spurgeon and, with quiet humour, remarked that he would not allow the congregation to separate without telling them that he did not consider smoking to be a sin, and that, by the grace of God, he hoped to enjoy a good cigar before going to bed that night.

"Hypercriticism should discern no irreverence in the conclusion of those remarks. We should be thankful for all things; and in observing that he hoped to enjoy a cigar through the Divine grace, he was but echoing the natural piety of Charles Lamb, who asked why we should not say grace before going out for a walk in the fields as well as before and after meat. Dr. Johnson said grace before he began the 'Rambler'; and if Mr. Spurgeon be a smoker, he only adds another and most excellent name to the long catalogue of distinguished English divines of the Established and the Dissenting Churches who have solaced themselves with that Indian weed."²

The matter was widely discussed both in the newspapers and in private circles; and as the phrase "smoking to the glory of God" became associated with his name, Spurgeon addressed a letter to The Daily Telegraph with a view of scattering any misapprehension which might arise. The pastor of the Tabernacle wrote:

"I demur altogether and most positively to the statement that to smoke tobacco is in itself a sin. It may become so, as any other indifferent action may, but as an action it is no sin.

"Together with hundreds of thousands of my follow-Christians I have smoked, and, with them, I am under the condemnation of living in habitual sin, if certain accusers are to be believed. As I would not knowingly live even in the smallest violation of the law of God, and sin in the transgression of the law, I will not own to sin when I am not conscious of it.

"There is growing up in society a Pharisaic system which adds to the commands of God the precepts of men; to that system I will not yield for an hour. The preservation of my liberty may bring upon me the upbraidings of many good men, and the sneers of the self-righteous; but I shall endure both with serenity so long as I feel clear in my conscience before God.

"The expression 'smoking to the glory of God' standing alone has an ill sound, and I do not justify it; but in the sense in which I employed it I still stand to it. No Christian should do anything in which he cannot glorify God; and this may be done, according to Scripture, in eating and drinking and the common actions of life.

"When I have found intense pain relieved, a weary brain soothed, and calm, refreshing sleep obtained by a cigar, I have felt grateful to God, and have blessed His name; this is what I meant, and by no means did I use sacred words triflingly.

"If through smoking I had wasted an hour of my time—if I had stinted my gifts to the poor—if I had rendered my mind less vigorous—I trust I should see my fault and turn from it; but he who charges me with these things shall have no answer but my forgiveness.

"I am told that my open avowal will lessen my influence, and my reply is that if I have gained any influence through being thought different from what I am, I have no wish to retain it. I will do nothing upon the sly, and nothing about which I have a doubt.

["I am most sorry that prominence has been given to what seems to me so small a matter—and the last thing in my thoughts would have been the mention of it from the pulpit; but I was placed in such a position that I must either by my silence plead guilty to living in sin, or else bring down upon my unfortunate self the fierce rebukes of the anti-tobacco advocates by speaking out honestly. I chose the latter; and although I am now the target for these worthy brethren, I would sooner endure their severest censures than sneakingly do what I could not justify, and earn immunity from their criticism by tamely submitting to be charged with sin in an action which my conscience allows.]"

Among the non-smokers who had no sympathy with Spurgeon in this smoking controversy was the preacher's old friend, James Clarke, who remarked in The Christian World: "To ourselves this tobacco pest is a daily martyrdom, and we could earnestly wish that every Christian teacher, at all events, felt no desire to indulge in a habit... which is unquestionably most fearfully destructive both to the bodies and souls of tens of thousands of our young men."³

NOTES
1. "George F. Pentecost, D.D.: a Biographical Sketch," pp. 76, 77.
2. The-Daily Telegraph, September 23, 1874.
3. Quoted in "The Tobacco Problem," by Meta Lander, third ed., Boston, Mass., 1885, p. 185. On the same page of this book the following is also given, the report that Spurgeon had given up smoking being, of course, quite incorrect, for he continued the habit until overtaken by his last illness:—"Neal Dow, who was in England at the time of the Spurgeon-Pentecost affair, relates that he was soon after a guest in a family where the matter came up. The father told him that by long and painful labour be had obtained a promise from his son, who was a great smoker, to abandon the habit, and that he had kept his pledge till the great preacher's declaration, 'I shall go home and smoke the best cigar I have got to the glory of God.' After this he returned to his cigar, saying that Spurgeon's example was good enough for him. Even a clergyman pleads, in excuse for his habit, that 'Mr. Spurgeon, the greatest preacher in the world, smokes.' Since then, if report speaks true, this 'greatest preacher' has abandoned his cigar, not, as we wish he had done years ago, from religious principle, but because he was driven to it by its injurious influence upon his health."

Two More Anecdotes about Spurgeon's Cigars

From William Williams, Charles Haddon Spurgeon: Personal Reminiscences (London: The Religious Tract Society, n.d.), 30-32.

All the world knows that Mr. Spurgeon now and again enjoyed a cigar. Not a few caricatures represented him smoking a pipe, but he never used a pipe all the years I knew him. His shrewd reply to the gentleman who "had heard he smoked, but could not believe it to be true," and asked Mr. Spurgeon to satisfy him, is choice: "I cultivate my flowers and burn my weeds."

"Enjoying your 'bacca again, sir!" said old George, Mr. Spurgeon's tried and trusted servant, one day when his master was lighting a cigar.

"I can do without my 'bacca' a good deal easier than you can, George," said the master.

"I don't believe you can, sir."

"Very well, George, don't smoke again until I do."

"Agreed, sir."

A week passed—a fortnight. Poor old George was dying for his pipe. One was asked to intercede with the master that George might be allowed to have it.

"No, no!" said Mr. Spurgeon. "He made a bargain; let him stick to it."

Eventually George was allowed to smoke, but Mr. Spurgeon did not have a cigar for months after that. . . .

While Mr. Spurgeon was living at Nightingale Lane, Clapham, an excursion was one day organised by one of the young men's classes at the Tabernacle. The brake with the excursionists was to call for the President on their way to mid-Surrey.

It was a beautiful early morning, and the men arrived in high spirits, pipes and cigars alight, and looking forward to a day of unrestrained enjoyment. Mr. Spurgeon was ready waiting at the gate. He jumped up to the box-seat reserved for him, and looking round with an expression of astonishment, exclaimed: "What, gentlemen! Are you not ashamed to be smoking so early?"

Here was a damper! Dismay was on every face. Pipes and cigars one by one failed and dropped out of sight.

When all had disappeared, out came the President's cigar-case. He lit up and smoked away serenely.

The men looked at him astonished. "I thought you said you objected to smoking, Mr. Spurgeon?" one ventured.

"Oh no, I did not say I objected. I asked if they were not ashamed, and it appears they were, for they have all put their pipes away."

Amid laughter the pipes reappeared, and with puffs of smoke the party went on merrily.

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