John Kitto

Comments on John Kitto by C.H. Spurgeon in the Sword and Trowel, 1868.

    We have never read a more striking romance than the life of John Kitto, the pauper, shoemaker, traveler, and author. From beginning to end, his life was full of interesting incidents. Nor less striking are the lessons which that life conveys. The writer owes to the records of Kitto’s perseverance the first impetus to literary study; to his biographer, Mr. J. E. Ryland, the first word of encouragement to literary pursuits; and to the teachings of both the early determinations of boyhood to conquer no small difficulties in the paths to which inclination led him. Kitto’s early life was one of sorrow. He was a poor sickly infant. His first personal recollection was a headache, from which he suffered throughout life. His father was a drunkard. His amiable and tender mother was delicate. The father would not support his child, and the mother could not. He was transferred to his grandmother, who lived in a garret in Plymouth. Here he learnt marvelous tales of fairies and giants. In those old days, when slimy grandmothers considered lying tales to be the swaddling clothes of learning, men with a hundred eyes and ten thousand arms, who could pocket unruly children, and gorge by the dozen wicked men, were the heroes of whom the little world of children’s hearts were found worthy. “Bogie” was a comparatively harmless creature to Kitto. He daily lived, in childhood, in a world of gigantic marvels, which would amuse him when awake, and wriggle and writhe in his brains when asleep. From reading eight-page books that were strongly illuminated outside by red and green daubs (oh, horrid combination!) and illustrated inside by patches of blue and yellow figures, he took to reading all the books he could borrow. He soon exhausted all the libraries of the poor neighborhood in which he lived, and worried everyone by his passionate desire to borrow more. At twelve years of age, an event occurred which undoubtedly gave a turn to his life. His father was a jobbing mason, and his employment was as precarious as was his sobriety. The young lads assistance was deemed to be indispensable; and at that early age he learned to carry slates to the roofs of houses. In doing this, one day, he lost his presence of mind, and fell from the top of a ladder, into a paved court below. For a fortnight he remained insensible; and when he awoke one morning, he asked for a book. He heard no reply; he observed only a sad, quiet melancholy shake of the head. “Why not speak?” asked the boy in agitated tones. Still he heard nothing: their talking was, to him, a dumb show. A bystander took a slate, and relieved the boy’s anxiety, by writing words which might have been the means of driving him mad, “You are deaf.”

    At fifteen years of age, he was bundled into that hard school — Poverty’s College — the workhouse. And yet, thank God for the workhouse; it has saved many from the prison and Calcraft. While poverty pinches and the streets tempt, better the workhouse full than the prison crammed. Here he was inducted into the arts and mysteries of awl and wax, clamps and lapstones. Then he was apprenticed to a cobbler. His master was cruel, and employed — what shoemakers were once in the frequent habit of using —the strap. At last he appealed to the magistrates. His simple tale was believed, his indentures were canceled, and he was received again into the workhouse: The master of the house took an interest in the lad. Here Kitto kept a diary, which is full of interest and pathetic touches. His intelligent enthusiasm for knowledge burned at red heat. He knew no hindrances; he regarded mountains of difficulties as but winding passages to the valley of success. Poverty made him hardy, disadvantages made him resolute. Subsequently he became librarian at an institute in Plymouth; then a dentist’s assistant at Exeter. Here he was fully brought to a knowledge of the Savior, and determined to occupy his life and use his literary talents for the advancement of the Redeemer’s kingdom. His first publication consisted of a volume of essays. The Church Missionary Society employed him as printer, at Islington; but he had a quarrel with the head printer about asserting what is known by them as “pie.” The crust was too hard, and he fought against it. Then he went to Malta, to set up Maltese types. Returning to England, after the lapse of eighteen months, he was asked by his old Quaker friend, Mr. Groves, the dentist of Exeter, whether he would accompany him to the East as tutor to his boys. Without a moment’s hesitation, he replied, “Yes.” This firm, sudden, impulsive resolve shaped his future course. By his travels in Oriental lands he was fitted to occupy the honored position for which God was training him — namely, that of an illustrator of the sacred volume.

    We do not purpose to refer to his travels in Persia and other countries. The results of his observations while sojourning there are to be found scattered throughout his works. Arrived at home, he was immediately engaged by the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge — a society which did great good in its day, and to which we owe that remarkable publication, “The Penny Magazine,” to which nothing in its line had, or has since, appeared comparable for interest and healthy tone. The public owe not a little to the late Mr. Charles Knight for his efforts to diffuse useful wholesome literature. To him we owe the first conception of “The Pictorial Bible,” a work which the best scholars have acknowledged, formed, in its conception and execution, a marked era in Biblical literature. Mr. Knight having suggested the preparation of this work, Kitto at once set about the task with an alacrity and earnestness that ever characterized his literary efforts. He became a constant visitor to the British Museum. His working day consisted of sixteen hours — six too many. Yet some one in the world must work hard: for there is plenty to do, and the laborers are few. He refused all assistance, .save the help which his devoted wife always gave him. He called her his “hod-man,” for she day by day went to the Museum, “to collect,” as she herself tells us, "from all the various authorities pointed out by him, such materials as he needed’.” So diffident was Kitto, that when the first few monthly parts of his Bible were published, he was almost afraid to read the reviews that appeared in the public press. His desire was to make this work an acquisition to a poor minister with limited means, and a scanty library: and we need hardly add how inestimable a boon “The Pictorial Bible” has been to others than ministers, At first Kitto did not place his name on the title page, but when in 1847 a revised edition was called for, this was done. His next prominent work was “The Cyclopaedia of Biblical Literature,” a book which met a great want, but which was not so well edited as it should have been, owing, it is said, to his too delicate conduct towards contributors, He also started and superintended, “The Journal of Sacred Literature,” a magazine which through want of sufficient support, has recently closed its career.

    But Kitto’s greatest work, that which brought him most fame, and that which has perhaps done most good, was his last. His idea was originally to prepare a series of popular works, written in a conversational way, on the narrative portions of divine writ. Had he attempted writing in this style, we feel sure he would have failed, and his final work would have become the least popular. The publishers, Messrs. Oliphant, however, very wisely amended the plan, and as the result, “. The Daily Bible Illustrations,” consisting of eight volumes, were produced. It might seem almost too late in the day to say much of a work that has met with such high approval, but the issue of a new, improved, and enlarged edition calls for a few observations upon a work which deserves the utmost degree of commendation. The new edition is splendidly got up; the pages are large and handsome, and the type clear and beautiful. The notes of Dr. Porter we have carefully examined, and we feel sure that they are just the additions which Kitto would have made had he been alive. So well did the author execute his work that comparatively few corrections have been required; and as all these notes have been placed in smaller type, at the end of each chapter, the reader cannot unconsciously mistake the editor for the author of the work. We are glad to have this opportunity of recommending an old favorite book — one which we have read with an enthusiasm that few works can inspire — to the attention of all who love the sacred volume. Had every intelligent church member and Sunday-school teacher a copy of this valuable work, preachers would be far happier in their work, for they would not need to impart information which a little effort on the weekday might enable people to gain, and might proceed to those deeper spiritual truths which should be the principal, subjects of the Christian teacher.

    Kitto was a reverent student of the Bible. He did not go to it as a literary man would to a purely literary book. He did not criticize it as do those Rationalistic writers who are wise above what is written. He had a tender, perception of the hidden beauties of Scripture, and derived great spiritual benefit from its constant perusal; loving the Savior revealed in its pages, he was qualified to give his opinion on the higher matters of revelation. He never trifled with the word of God No theme was too insignificant for him. His illustrations are seldom fanciful. There is sometimes a lack of smoothness of expression, but the earnestness of a devout mind is always apparent. We do not agree with all his interpretations, nor do we think that his view of Job 19:25-27, which Barnes has popularized, meets the plain grammatical sense of the context and argument. We observe that Dr. Porter adds a note to this chapter, in which he shows plainly enough that Job in those famous words of triumph, declares his firm belief in the “Deliverer” whom with the eye of faith the old patriarch sees standing “at the latter day upon the earth.” Some of Kitto’s illustrations are too ingenious. His chivalrous defense of the women of the Bible, is characteristic of a man whose appreciation of the delicate nature of the fair sex was intensely keen. He devotes one chapter of his “Daily Bible Illustrations” to a favorable view of Job’s wife’s conduct in his affliction, in which good sense and extreme special pleading are combined the latter element rendering it needful to read with independent judgment. Yet the book is generally trustworthy. “He writes,” Dr. Eadie very truthfully says, “with earnestness and living power, and the results of his travels, experience, and research, suffer no deterioration from being molded anew in the fire of a devout soul, and set in the framework of an ingenuous and healthful piety.”

    Poor Kitto’s last days were full of trouble. His want of exercise, his close application to work, the large family for which he had to labor, and the unfriendly headache which ever accompanied him through life, produced the expected evils. Good friends sent him to Germany, but he felt convinced his end was nigh. He was ready for the change, for he was assured that for him a place was prepared in the land of rest. He died in the year 1854, at the early age of fifty, his last words which were addressed to his wife being, “Pray God take me soon.”

    The great lesson of Kitto’s useful life is conveyed in the motto placed in the title-page of his biography, “Per Ardua.” There is a proverb which says, “Resolve never to be poor.” It is easy to say it — infinitely harder to carry it out. Abject poverty may have advantages to graceless, stupid people, but to intelligent minds burning with noble aspirations of service for God, it is not often a blessing. Samuel Johnson, when walking about London streets, penniless, was a great arguer for the advantages of poverty: but then, he says, “I was at the same time very sorry to be poor.” Kitto was at times very poor. On one occasion, he gave his children a slice of bread, and taking them to the window, he observed, “Well, we must look to the butcher’s shop opposite to get the right relish for our bread.” Kitto’s spirit of energy and perseverance has been eulogised elsewhere on many occasions; we need not, therefore, dwell on that particular phase of his character. What pre-eminently characterized Kitto was his robust good sense, and his readiness ever to use it. It is something for a man to attain his ambition: it is a still greater accomplishment for him to be able to consecrate his abilities to the cause of truth; and nothing sweetens labor more than the consciousness of working, however humbly, for the cause of the Savior who suffered and died for us. Kitto had this gratification. Would that other literary men had it likewise!