spencer1Ichabod Spencer was the pastor of the Second Presbyterian Church in Brooklyn Heights in the early 1800’s. He was a man after God’s own heart. He preached faithfully the Doctrines of Grace and cared tenderly for the flock of God. He took the time out of his busy schedule to commit himself to the duties that God had called him to which was “shepherd the flock of God”.  He made approximately 700 home visits per year to encourage and strengthen the members of his Church.  Despite his constant bouts with sickness and pain he poured out his life to bring many souls to Christ.   His Church experienced a True Revival and many souls came to the Saving Grace of God through his preaching and ministry in Downtown Brooklyn.
He was known as, “The Bunyan of Brooklyn.”

“Dr. Ichabod Spencer, one of the most able
and faithful pastors America ever had”

R.A. Torrey

This post was taken from www.tevinwax.com

Spencer served as the pastor of Second Presbyterian Church in Brooklyn, New York from 1832-54. During his ministry there, he made more than 20,000 pastoral visits, most of which he summarized in the form of brief sketches. Seventy-seven of these sketches were made available in the book, A PASTOR’S SKETCHES: Conversations with Anxious Souls Concerning the Way of Salvation, which ran through several editions and is now in print again today (Solid Ground Christian Books, 2002).

Spencer’s initial influence was widespread, but his work has been largely forgotten today. Today, I would like to outline the approach to evangelism evidenced in Spencer’s sketches. Tomorrow, I will evaluate the strengths and weaknesses of Spencer’s evangelism, and then on Thursday, I will offer a strategy of evangelism based upon the insights learned from Spencer’s faithful work as pastor and evangelist.

To read more please go to http://trevinwax.com/2009/09/08/timely-truth-ichabod-spencers-approach-to-evangelism/

I Can’t Repent!

Posted: June 30, 2010 in Ichabod Spencer, Repentance

ONE of the most solemn assemblies that I have ever seen, was convened on the evening of the Sabbath, in a private house. It was an inquiry meeting; at which more than a hundred persons were present, the most of them young or in middle life. The structure of the house was rather peculiar. There was a spacious hail, about ten feet wide and about forty feet long, extending from the front door along the side of three parlors which opened into it, as well as into each other; and at the rear part of this hail was a staircase extending to the second story of the house. Moveable benches were introduced into this hail, and placed along each side of it, to afford seats for those who attended this meeting, and who could not all be accommodated in the parlors. After the meetings had been continued in this place for a few weeks; it became manifest, that the hail was the preferred place. As the different persons came in and took their seats ‘where they pleased, the seats in the hail would be filled, and then the stairs would be used as seats entirely to the top, and then the upper hail would be occupied, and finally the parlors I was accustomed to stand, while addressing the assembly, in one of the doors opening from the hail into the parlor, where my eye had a full view of all those in the hail, on the stairs and in one of the parlors. Besides a general exhortation, it was my ordinary custom to speak to each individual, passing from one to another. And all those in the hail and on the stairs could hear every word, which I uttered in this conversation, and the most of what any one said to me. And for these reasons, as I supposed, the persons who resorted there would choose the hall or the stairs. This listening of others, to what passed in conversation betwixt any one individual and myself, was never very pleasant to me. I should greatly have preferred to converse with each one alone; as there would have been less restraint on their part, and on my own, more certainty, that what I was saying would be truly applicable and would not be applied by any one, for whom it was not intended. And besides this, individuals would sometimes make expressions to me so erroneous, that I was unwilling others should hear them, lest they might be injured by it. To avoid this, I used to speak in a low tone of voice; and if the expressions of any individual were becoming such, as I feared might be injurious; I usually broke off the conversation suddenly, by saying, I will call and see you to-morrow.

On the evening, to which I now allude; all the seats were filled, and three persons were seated on each stair entirely to the top, and many had found their place in the hail above. It was a calm and mild summer evening; and perfect stillness reigned over the crowd assembled there, unbroken except by the long breathing or the deep sigh of some pensive soul. I thought I had never seen so still, so solemn, and thoughtful an assembly. I closed the front door, after all had entered, and took my stand in my accustomed place. I hesitated to speak. I was afraid to utter a word. It seemed to me, that anything I could say would be less solemn, impressive, instructive, than that tomb-like silence in an assembly of so many immortal souls, each visited by the Holy Spirit. I stood, for some time, in perfect silence. The power of that silence was painful. The people sat before me, like statues of marble, — not a movement, — not a sound. It appeared as if they had all ceased to breathe. I broke the silence by saying slowly and in a low voice: — “Each one of you is thinking of his own immortal soul and of his God.” Again I paused for the space of an entire minute; for I was overawed, and knew not what to say. Then falling on my knees, I commenced prayer. They all spontaneously knelt. After a short prayer, I proposed to speak a few words to each one of them, as far as it was possible; and requested all of them, except the individual with whom I should be conversing, to be engaged in reflection or in silent prayer to God. Passing rapidly from one to another, I had spoken to all those in the parlors and in the hall, till I had reached about the middle of it, where every word spoken could be heard, by the whole assembly. Coming to a man, about thirty years of age, whom I had seen there three times before, I said to him: — “I did not expect to see you here to-night. I thought you would have come to repentance, before this time; and would have no occasion any longer to ask, what shall I do to be saved?”

“I can’t repent,” said he, (with a sort of determined and despairing accent, and so loudly as to startle us all.) Instantly, I felt sorry for this expression. But I thought it would not do to avoid noticing it, and leave it sounding in the ears of so many impenitent sinners. I immediately answered, as I stood before him, as gently and yet solemnly as I could: —“What an awfully wicked heart you must have! You can’t repent! You love sin so well; that you cannot be sorry for it — you cannot forsake it — you cannot hate it! — You must be in an awful condition indeed! You are so much the enemy of God; that you cannot be sorry for having offended him — you cannot cease to contend against him — and even now, while you are sensible of the impropriety and unhappiness of it, you cannot cease to resist the Holy Spirit, who strives with you to bring you to repentance! — You must have an awfully depraved heart!”

“I can’t repent,” said he again, (with an accent of grief and intolerable vexation) — “I can’t repent, with such a heart!”

“That means,” said I, “that you have become too wicked to desire to become any better; for nothing but wickedness makes repentance difficult. And then, you just plead one sin, as an excuse for another — the sin of your heart, as an excuse for the continued sin of your heart!”

Still he insisted. “I can’t repent! I should if I could!” — (and the tears rolled down his cheeks, of which he seemed to ho utterly unconscious, as well as unconscious of the presence of any one but myself.)

“You would if you could,” said I, “is only a self-righteous and self-justifying excuse. Your deceitful heart means by it, that you are not so wicked as to continue in your impenitence willingly. It means that you are willing to repent, but you cannot. You are deceived. You are not willing. You think you are, but you are in an error. You never will be willing, unless God shall verify in you the promise, ‘My people shall be willing in the day of my power.’ In that power lies your only hope, as I have told you before, when I urged you to pray. If you are willing to repent, what hinders you? I am willing you should repent. All of us here are willing. Every angel in heaven is willing you should repent. Christ who died to redeem you is willing. God the Father is willing. The Holy Spirit is willing, who, at this moment strives with you to bring you to repentance. What hinders you, then? Yourself only! And when you say you can’t repent, you mean that you are not to be blamed for coming here to-night with an impenitent heart. You are woefully deceived! God blames you! The whole Bible blames you! Your own conscience, though you strive to silence it, blames you! — This excuse will not stand!”

“I can’t repent!” said he again, (in a harsh, vociferating voice, as if in anger.)

“Then God can’t save you,” said I; “for he cannot lie, and he has said the impenitent shall be destroyed! You say you cannot repent. He has not said so. He commands you to repent.”

He replied, with much agitation, but in a subdued tone: — “I am sure I have tried long; and my mind has been greatly tormented. All has done no good. I do not see as I can repent!”

“Other people have repented,” said I. “There are a great many penitents in the world. I find there are some here to-night, who think they have come to repentance, since they were here last Sabbath evening. One of them told me then, very much the same thing you tell me now, that it did not seem to him he ever could turn from sin; but he has found out he can. As to your having tried so long, the length of time will not save you if a man has got his face turned the wrong way, the longer he goes on, the worse off he becomes. He would do well to stop, and turn about. Such is the call of the Bible: ‘Turn ye, turn ye, for why will ye die? Repent, and turn yourselves from all your transgressions, so iniquity shall not be your ruin. Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts, and let him return unto the Lord.’ Other people have turned to God, and you ought to. But your mind has seized on the idea of your trying and your trouble, and you make an excuse and a self-righteousness of them.”

“Do you think I am self-righteous?” said he.

“I know you are. That is your grand difficulty. You have been trying to save yourself. You are trying now. When you tried to repent, your heart aimed after repentance, as something to recommend you to God, and constitute a reason why he should forgive and save you. It was just an operation of a self-righteous spirit. It was just an attempt to save yourself, to have your religion save you, instead of relying by faith upon Jesus Christ, to be saved from wrath through him. This is precisely the case with every impenitent sinner. The error is one. The forms of it may be various; but in all cases it is substantially the same thing. St. Paul has given a perfect description of it: ‘going about,’ (from one thing to another, from one device or attempt to another,) ‘going about to establish a righteousness of their own, they have not submitted themselves to the righteousness of God; for Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth.’ One man tries to establish a righteousness of his own, out of his reformations; another one, out of his duties; another, out of his painful attempts or painful convictions; as you just now mentioned your own torments of mind. It is evident, that you are trying to be righteous before God, through your pain — and your attempted penitence. And if you should find any peace of mind in that way; it would only be a deception, not an item of religion in it. You ought to betake yourself to the Lord Jesus Christ, a poor, guilty, undone sinner, to be saved by him alone — saved by grace. You ought to go to him, just as you are, to be washed in his blood, to be clothed in his righteousness, to be sheltered from the thunders of God’s eternal law, in the security of his all-sufficient atonement. You ought to flee to Christ, like the man-slayer to the city of refuge, before he is cut down by the sword of the avenger of blood. You ought to go instantly, like the prodigal to his father, in all his poverty, starvation, and rags, as well as guilt. You ought to cry, like Peter sinking in the waves, “Lord, save me.” But instead of this, you are just looking to yourself, striving to find something, or make something in your own heart, which shall recommend you to God. And in this miserable way, you are making salvation a far more difficult matter, than God has made it. You have forgotten the free grace of the gospel, the full atonement of Jesus Christ, by the sacrifice of himself.”

“But,” said he, “I can’t repent and come to Christ, of myself.”

“I certainly never said you could; and never wished you to think you could. In my opinion, God does not wish you to think so. And if you have found out, that you cannot repent of yourself, aside from divine aid, I am glad of it — you have found out an important truth. Most certainly God does not tell you to repent of yourself. He tells you, that ‘Christ is exalted to give repentance.’ He says to every sinner, ‘Thou hast destroyed thyself, in me is thy help: let him take hold on my strength that he may make peace with me, and he shall make peace with me.’ On the ground that they need it, he has promised ‘the Holy Spirit to them that ask him.’ God never expects you to repent, without divine aid, but with it. He knows you are too wicked to do it, that you are without strength, helpless, undone, a lost sinner! — And here lies the very heart of your error. You have been trying to repent, in a way that God never told you, just by your own powers, instead of trying to get God to have mercy upon you, and save you by his help. You have been looking to the powers within you, instead of looking to the aid above you. You have trusted to yourself, instead of trusting yourself to the grace of Christ. And that is the very reason why you have failed; and now you complain, that you cannot repent; while, in reality, you have exactly the same sufficiency, as the penitent all around you. What has been their help, may be your help. And the sooner you are driven off from all that self-seeking and self-reliance, the better it will be for you. You are in the double error of undervaluing the character of God, and over-valuing your own. God is more merciful and more gracious, than you think him to be. He is more ready to save you. And when he commands you to repent, he does not wish you to forget, that all your hope lies in the immediate aid of his Holy Spirit. Nor does he wish you to attempt to dispense with that proffered assistance, by your not believing, that you are as utterly helpless as you really are. He does not tell you to rely upon your own shattered strength; but you have done so. And when you have failed, you then turn round and complain, that you ‘can’t repent.’ You reject his offered help — the help of the omnipotent Spirit. And for this reason, you will be the more criminal, if you do not repent. That Divine Spirit is your only hope. If he leaves you to yourself, you are lost — eternally lost! Tread softly, my dear friend! The ground whereon thou standest is holy ground! Let not the Holy Spirit, who presides over the souls here this evening, bear witness against you in the day of the final judgment, — ‘because I have called and ye refused!’ You can repent; just in the way that others repent; just because God is your help. Trust him; and rely upon yourself no longer.”

As I was saying these things, he appeared to become much less affected, but much more thoughtful. His tears and his agitations ceased; and he seemed to hang upon my lips, as if he was listening to some new wonder. When I had done, all was hushed as death; and in a deliberate, subdued, and solemn tone, he broke that expressive silence, saying: — “I hope, my God will help me.”

“Let us pray,” said I; — and a short prayer, pleading for God’s help, closed the exercises of the evening.

I afterwards found numerous reasons for believing, that that was one of the most profitable religious exercises, that I ever attended. Among others was the case of my friend, whose expression had drawn me somewhat out of my proposed mode of conducting the exercises of the evening. He became, as he hoped, a true believer. He stated to me the exercises of his mind, his repentance, his faith in Christ, his peace and hope, and his reliance upon the Holy Spirit. His mind appeared to seize upon the great truths of the gospel, almost without emotion. He had no ecstacy, no exultation, no joy. He had only peace and hope. lie told me, that his agitations had all been useless to him; that they were not faith and did not lead to faith; and that he thought “sinners ought to attend to the calls of God, in a believing and business manner.” And when I asked him what had kept him from Christ so long, he replied: “I was trying to make myself better — to have a religion instead of trusting in Christ. What you said to me that night, showed me my mistake; and I went home with a deeper sense of my dependence, and a clear view of the free grace of God to sinners, through the redemption of Christ.” About six months after this he united with the church, and has continued to manifest an established and uniform faith.

To cut off the sinner from all reliance upon himself, his merits and his powers; and throw him, naked and helpless, into the hands of the Holy Spirit to lead him to Christ in faith; should be the one great aim of the ministry. Sinners certainly ought to repent, for God commands them to repent. But in my opinion, he does not design to have them understand his command, as having respect only to their own ability to repent, and not having respect to the proffered aids of the Holy Spirit. Such aids constitute one grand ground on which his command is obligatory, and sweep away every possible excuse. No man ever did repent without the Holy Spirit, or ever will; and this is no small amount of proof that no man ever can. Nothing seems to be gained by making a sinner believe that he is able to repent without divine assistance. Such a belief will be very likely to mislead him to a reliance upon his own shattered strength And as to his conviction of criminality for not coming to repentance, surely there is strong ground for such conviction, since God offers him all the ability he needs, —in me is thy help, — let him take hold on my strength that he may make peace with me.

Ichabod Spencer


And through his faith, though he died, he still speaks  (Hebrews 11:4)

As I was reading more about Ichabod Spencer’s life I realized that this suffering servant’s body was laid to rest at the end of my block in Greenwood Cemetery. So I decided to take a short walk from my apartment to the corner of 31st Street and 5th Avenue where Greenwood Cemetery is located. I did a quick search on the cemetery’s website and found the location of the burial site.  As I walked through this peaceful Historical Landmark I began to read the countless tombstones scattered along the rolling hills of the cemetery.  Some were buried as early as the 1800’s, others as recent as last week.  I wondered to myself who these people were and what legacy, if any, did they leave behind.  Did their lives make a difference while they were here on earth?  Did they serve Christ, or their own desires and ambitions?  Does anyone remember them today?  How long will it be before the fresh flowers and well-groomed plots on the recently departed resembled the unkept and weed infested plots of those long forgotten?   Time has a strange way of erasing the memories and achievements of days gone by.

As I continued on I passed by the gravesite of Leonard Bernstein, a man who made a name for himself during his short time on earth as a great composer, and conductor. I passed by the gravesite of Henry Steinway, the founder of Steinway & Sons, the world famous piano manufacturer.  I passed by the gravesite of Albert Anastasia the infamous mobster of Murder Inc., who made a name for himself as a man to be feared.  I passed by the gravesite of Henry Chadwick who was deemed “The Father of Baseball”.  It is because of his work that we can enjoy this “Great American Past Time”.  I passed by the grave of Charles Ebbets, the owner of the Brooklyn Dodgers “Dem Bums”, whose stadium bore his name.

There were countless others that made a name for themselves and are remembered because of their work and achievements.  Yet all of these men are gone and to what extent has their legacy impacted the lives of men and woman for the Glory of God?  How significant was their contribution in light of eternity?  What reward did they receive for all of their labor and toil?  Did they hear the sweet sound of, “Well done my good and faithful servant” or the dreaded sound of, “Depart from me I never knew you”?

As I came upon the site of Ichabod Spencer I felt a sense of awe.  I realized that this once feeble man, who suffered extensively with sickness and pain, was now made whole and in the presence of our Great God and Savior Jesus Christ reaping the benefits of a life of service to God.  I read the epitaph on the gravestone and it simply said this:

In Memory of I.S. Spencer D.D.
“The First and for 22 years was the Beloved Pastor of the
Second Presbyterian Church in this City.
Born February 23, 1798.
Died November 23, 1854 at the age of 56 years old.
‘Well-done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little;
I will set you over much.  Enter into the joy of your master.’
Matthew 25:23

I felt humbled as I stood before this tall weather beaten obelisk tombstone.  I began to ask myself what kind of legacy am I going to leave behind?  What will my epitaph read?  From what I have read about Spencer he touched countless lives for Christ. During his Funeral services thousands came out to pay their final respects to this man who gave his life for the service of God’s people.  Through sickness and pain he never complained but with tenderness and compassion ministered to those in his care on a personal and intimate basis.  He was unflinching in his commitment to preach the unadulterated Word of God.  He held firmly to the Doctrines of Grace.  He made every effort to know the condition of each member of the flock. He was a man who lived a life of service and sacrifice.

His church – which once stood as a beacon of light, is now a residential coop. His name that was once well known throughout Brooklyn is all but forgotten.  Yet today, through his writings, many of God’s faithful servants have been encouraged to continue on in the faithful preaching of the Doctrines of Grace and the up close and personal ministry to the flock of God. His only desire was to make the name of Jesus great among men.  I am sure that he would not subscribe to today’s “mega church” pastor’s who seem far too important, and far too busy to spend time with the very people that God has called them to serve.  These men might be well known and have a great name amongst men, but like those tombstones that I passed by today, I wonder what is waiting for these men on the other side?   Are they serving God’s people faithfully and sacrificially, or are they exploiting them to make a name for themselves?

As I made my way back I noticed a few other tombstones that caught my attention.   I realized that in the midst of worldly men whose only goal was to make a name for themselves – there were those like Spencer, whose only goal was to make the name of Jesus great among men.   So as I passed by the tombs of Ira Sankey, the well-known gospel singer, and Thomas Hastings, the composer of Rock of Ages, I realized that these men did not make the Greenwood Cemetery Hall of Fame.  And rightly so, because their only goal was to lift up the name of Christ and make His name Glorious!


The third man purpose of this doctrine [of predestination] is, as I suppose, to comfort God’s people. The grand trial of a life of religion is a trial of the heart. We have sins, we have weaknesses and temptations, which tend to a dreadful discouragement. Sin easily besets us. We easily wander from God. Holiness is an up-hill work. Our feet often stagger in the path of our pilgrimage, and tears of bitterness gush from our eyes, lest such weak, and tempted, and erring creatures should never reach heaven. Devils tempt us. The world presents its deceitful allurements, and more deceitful and dangerous claims. What shall cheer us when our heart sinks within us? Whither shall we fly for comfort, when our hearts are bleeding, when our sins are so many, when our gain in holiness is so little, when our light goes out, and the gloom of an impenetrable midnight settles down upon our poor and helpless soul?  We cannot, indeed, mount up to the inner sanctuary of God, open the seven-sealed book, and read our names recorded in it by the pen of the Eternal. But we can know that such a book is there; and that the pen of our Father has filled it with his eternal decrees, not one of which shall fail of accomplishment, as surely as his own throne shall stand. And when we find in ourselves, amid our tearful struggles, even the feeble beginnings of holiness, we know that God has commenced his work for us,–a work which he planned before the world was; and that he who has ‘begun a good in work in us, will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ,’ carrying into effect his eternal plan.


Just as well as we know our likeness to God, we know our election to God. We know that our holiness is his work, a work which he purposed from the beginning.  If he had purposed it but just when he began it, if it were a work undertaken from some recent impulse, then we should have good reason to fear that some other impulse would drive him to abandon it. But when we know it from a part of his eternal counsels, and is no side work, no episode, no interlude, or sudden interposition not before provided for then we are assured that God is not going to forsake us; and deep as is our home-bred depravity, and many and malignant as are our foes, we are cheered with the assurance, that God will bring us off victorious, and ‘the purpose according to election shall stand. We love to see our salvation embraced in the eternal plan of God; and we know it is embraced there, if we are his children by faith in Christ Jesus. We cannot read his secret counsels; but we can read his spiritual workings in us. We know the counsels by the evidence of the workings; and then we are cheered and encouraged amid our trials, by the idea that God will no more abandon us than he will abandon the eternal plan which his wisdom formed before the foundation of the world. ‘Who shall lay anything to the charge of God’s elect?’ He had their names in his book before they had shed a tear, before a devil existed to tempt them.


Excerpts from: – Ichabod Smith Spencer, A Pastor’s Sketches: Conversations with Anxious Souls Concerning the Way of Salvation vol. 1 (Vestavia Hills, AL: Solid Ground Books), 237-39.


A Pastor’s Sketches
Pastoral Book Reviews 

By and more or less unknown author, this book is actually a gem among pastoral theology resources.

There are few books that adequately deal with Pastoral occasions.  For example, in seminary you will learn where the Ten Commandments reside, but little about how they practicallyapply to the life of the church.  In this treasured volume you will not only taste an autobiographical account of a Pastor’s dealingswith the flock, or the encounters with seekers, but an appliedpastoral theology in action.  And this is not simply a selected group of touchy-feely human instances to warm the soul.  It is an exposition of a faithful pastor’s mind laid out in theological and biblical methodology for troubled souls.  It is a teaching tool for ministers who think they know what pastoral theology is all about.  For after reading through Spencer’s volume, they will soon learn that they have much to learn. 


Ichabod Spencer was known as the “Bunyan of Brooklyn.”  In my estimation, John Bunyan was one of the greatest Pastors of all time.  Why is this? – because his work “Pilgrim’s Progress” is still warming hearts today through its pastoral application of divine truth.  Spencer, in gaining such a renown nickname, is no small advocate of Pastoral application in the lives of those he had been providentially apportioned.  He was Pastor of the Second Presbyterian Church of Brooklyn from 1832-1854.  He was persuaded that visitation was key to Pastoral success.  (Such a sentiment was no small matter in the ministry of Richard Baxter as well, and look at his ministry!)  For how could a faithful under-shepherd watch over his flock unless he was intimately acquainted with the flock?  As a result of these visitations and encounters, he penned this book as a consequence of relentless prodding from his ministerial friends and congregation. 


The methodology of this book is worth its weight in gold.  I have rarely seen books of this sort.  Most of the time they lie hidden in the depth of long theological works that the student of divinity must dig and collect, as the portions become known.  However, in this book, it is all at the surface, begging to be read by those who desire a Pastoral theology that is not only orthodox in doctrine, but applicable today.  Pastoral ministry cannot be the same in any elder’s work after reading this book coupled with prayer.  It is easy to simply read a book of this sort, but another matter all together to put such practice into action in holiness and godliness.  It is evident that God graced Pastor Spencer with vivid insight into knowing the nature of common men, united with a sharp theological sense in which he applied the Bible in such diverse situations.


Spencer spends 40 chapters dealing with a variety of people, young and old, from those lost to those weak in faith, from those dying of illness to those skeptics who rail against the Gospel. What does the Pastor do when confronted with those who live in despair?  What do Pastors say when people believe they cannot be saved?  How should a Pastor conduct himself around those who have never heard the Gospel – what would be the best course of conversation with such people?  How much should be said when witnessing?  Or preaching?  Not only do these, and many more, questions yield vivid answers from Spencer’s pen, but he also makes notes to those reading the book at the end of each chapter.  His desire is not simply to portray autobiographical accounts, but to teach the reader why such accounts have taken place.  Here young pastors should find this book extraordinarily helpful.


Among Pastoral books, this one is necessary reading.  I commend Solid Ground Books for pulling it off the antiquated shelf.  Pastors, sell your good suit jacket to obtain a copy if you must.  It would be better to visit the flock missing a suit jacket, than the material needed to counsel them as a responsible elder which is found bursting through the pages of this book.  It is heartily helpful – a pastoral must!


Some Quotes:

Many convicted sinners are kept from salvation but some mere trifle.  It is important to remove the obstacle.  They will not likely to seek God in earnest till that is done.


A true history of spurious revivals would be one of the most melancholy books ever written.


My observation continues to confirm me more and more in the opinion that to experience religions to experience the truth of the great doctrines of divine grace.


Convicted sinners are very poor judges of what “will do them good.”


No man can preach so powerfully as the Holy Spirit.  It is vastly important to know when to stop.  The divine writers understood this.  They are perfect examples.  Their silence is to be imitated, as well as their utterance.


Decision is a vastly important matter with a convicted sinner. The Bible treats it as such: “Choose ye this day whom ye will serve.”  A sinner must choose, or he must be lost.  Nobody else can choose for him.  Nothing can excise him from doing this duty at once.  Of he will not do it, he may expect the Divine Spirit to depart from him, and leave him to his own way.


Taken From the following website:  http://www.apuritansmind.com/BookReviews/SpencerIchabodPastoralSketches.htm