C. H. Spurgeon · 47 of 63

Sermon 268. The Ceremony of Laying the First Stone of the New Tabernacle · Part 4

The CHAIRMAN: I have now to call upon the gentleman who made the best speech this morning, and laid upon the foundation stone three thousand pounds.

EDWARD INSKIP, Esq., of Bristol.—My Lord Mayor, and Christian friends, as regards “the best speech” that has been made to-day, I trust that any merit in the speech, or in the donation will be laid at the feet of our covenant head. I was thinking during the speeches to which we have listened, of a line or two of one of the poets of the sanctuary:—

“Let party names no more, the Christian world o’erspread.”

And when I tell you that this gift of three thousand pounds, together with that which follows, comes from a man who was born a Churchman, and who was brought to a knowledge of the truth under a minister of the Church of England, and who is a Churchman at heart, you will see that his liberality is profound, and that he comes here in the true philanthropic principles of the Christian religion. But since I had the honor and privilege of laying that painted piece of paper, as I termed it, upon the stone this afternoon, I have been going round the boundaries of the proposed walls of this intended sanctuary, and I was thinking as I mused upon the various portions of the stones and gravel, cement, lime, ashes, bricks, and timber—what would be the position which the multitude before me would occupy in that better temple, where we all hope to adore the Lamb. I was led to ask, is my name, however mean and humble, inscribed there as a living stone? Believe me, if you value his instructions there, and wish to see that building the birthplace of souls nothing short of an earnest and agonising entreaty that God the eternal Spirit will sanctify that Word will ever promote your views, or bring about the realisation of your wishes. Believe me, it has afforded me great gratification to be the bearer of this honored man’s donation—my esteemed friend unknown to you. I said this afternoon, there is something more to follow. Three thousand pounds will not erect the building. I understand that it will take no less than seven times as much again. Where is it all to come from? I hear that the response to-day has realized only about three thousand nine hundred pounds, and that about two hundred pounds more is promised. Now, I do not pretend to be a Goliath, but I come as a simple stripling, and ask, who am I and what my father’s house, that I am thus honored to ask twenty other persons to come forward and give their one hundred pounds apiece, or even forty persons their fifty pounds each, with the promise that the sum shall be doubled when that is done? This I am sure is nothing less than your pastor deserves. He has devoted his time, his energy, his health, to this matter. He has been incessant in his labors, and he has found that they have been crowned with success. As for you, the fruit of his labors, it behoves you to see that he has a place in which he can address the multitudes who flock to hear him. This afternoon he spoke of this building being erected and the roof put on, and the Tabernacle being left seatless. Surely this will not be permitted. Whether it be by the humblest mite or by the large donation, I am sure that those who love the Lord Jesus Christ will see that this thing is accomplished, and speedily too. We were speaking just now of the living stones in the temple above, and I was thinking of a scene which occurred to me in the Music Hall yonder, some year or two since. When I heard the sounds of the voices of the multitude there, I bethought myself on that occasion, why, what must be the heavenly choir; if such be the perfection of sound realized by the humble few here upon earth?—what must be the sound rising from immortal voices and from angelic tongues? Surely while we contemplate the grandeur of that scene, we shall all be in earnest in asking ourselves the one question—are we heirs of the kingdom of God? We shall all be asking ourselves that marvellous question, “Is my name inscribed on the walls of Zion?” Remember, Jesus dwells there, and if Jesus dwells there, we desire to dwell there too. See to it, then, my friends, that this meeting conclude not without some large, some noble response to that which I consider a noble offer I have been permitted, on behalf of another, to make to you to-day. The offer you have heard; it rests with you to accept it; and whenever it may be accepted the money will be forthcoming, as the three thousand pounds is forthcoming now, on the very day when the two thousand shall be realized. But then I was about to disclose to you a secret—although, perhaps, Mr. Spurgeon may not like me to disclose it to you. I must tell you that he was very desirous that I should come and bring a large mass of feathers with which to line this beautiful nest. I trust it will be a nest indeed, but not a nest in which you may nestle yourselves into fatal security: I trust it will be a nest which you will find the birds of the air, whose feathers are of yellow gold, will set and brood over, and that there the sweet influences of those heavenly scenes will descend into your heart. I trust I shall be able to carry back with me to-morrow the intelligence that the offer I have made has been accepted, and that I shall shortly have the great pleasure of presenting to you the additional two thousand pounds.

The Rev. J. A. SPURGEON: My lord, ladies, and gentlemen—Your lordship said at the commencement of this meeting, that it was a happy day. I am quite sure I can echo that sentiment now from the depth of my spirit, and I think that I have in my cup one sweet ingredient which must be lacking in yours,—that of having such a brother as I have, in your ministry. If ever pride can be a sinless thing, I think it will be in my case when I say I am proud of my brother. But I would desire to take that stand which the Apostle Paul took when he determined “to know no man after the flesh.” Though I rejoice tonight most heartily in the success my brother has achieved, I rejoice more profoundly in the success which has attended the preaching of the gospel, and in the principles of the cross of Christ which I see here to-night. Whilst I look around me and see that every other religion is beginning to fade—that every other system is tottering to its fall—that everything that is of man seems like man to be fading—Christianity is growing in strength, and seems to have the dew of its youth upon it, and is going forth crushing all things before it, and it shall triumph till it shall fill the world with its knowledge, power, and glory. I rejoice to think that whilst I come in to take up that standard which aged hands must soon begin to let fall I see on it the “Excelsior” motto inscribed, and I see that it is going higher and higher, and it shall go so high till my Master shall be lifted up and shall draw all men unto him. I rejoice most devoutly in that divine dispensation which makes a luxury in doing good and a blessedness also, so that he who puts forth his hand to bring down a blessing upon others evokes the shower of divine blessing on his own head,—that he who does good must get good,—that he who serves the Lord shall never serve the Lord for nought. I am sure in our meeting here to-day—met as we are seeking the welfare of others—that there shall be the richest blessing poured out upon our heads; and I trust that there will be some departing from this place to-night who will be made rich with those riches which add no sorrow therewith. It has been said that there are sermons in stones, and if ever there is one class of stones that may be expected to have a voice, and eloquence, and depth of wisdom above others, it would be that class of stones to which we refer the one that has been laid to-day. Would that we could bring the corner and foundation stones of some of our old chapels and make them speak to-night! Methinks they would cry, “shame,” upon some of our fearful trembling-hearted ones to-night. The difficulties our ancestors had to encounter were far greater than ours. The stones they laid were laid under far less favorable auspices than our stone has been laid. This is an age of panic, and of fears, but I rejoice to think that we are putting our panic and fears in a practical way of building up defences for Zion; and I hope there will arise many more mighty arsenals, in which the great guns of our denomination may come and fire with great success into the camp of our enemies. I rejoice to think of the success that has already attended the efforts of our friends in collecting money; and whilst we feel very happy here tonight, I think we ought to give our happiness a practical turn. I cannot leave this meeting unless we once again raise our solemn thanksgiving to God for the great goodness and the great love that he hath shown our brother. I yield to no one in the profound respect I entertain for my brother’s peculiar talents, but I hold that it has not been so much how he has said, as what he has said, that has achieved his success. I hope that this meeting will take a practical and that we shall go forth tonight determined that we will preach more earnestly and simply, and then I trust with more success, the glorious gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Mr. JAMES LOW: The object of my rising is to call your attention to the noble offer that our friend, Mr. Inskip, has made. Our friend has given us a promissory note for two thousand pounds, on one condition, that is, that we raise another two thousand pounds in hundreds and fifties. This morning I screwed up my courage to fifty pounds, but as soon as that challenge was given, I altered my mind and made it one hundred pounds. This is a large meeting, containing some thousands of persons. I know there are some here who are very rich, and who could pay the whole expense of this building out of their own pockets and scarcely miss it, and I can hardly imagine that you will allow my friend Mr. Inskip, to go away disappointed. Let me beseech you to fix him at once. Now, I have to ask that nineteen other gentlemen, or ladies, if you please—for their money is equally valuable—to give a pledge for one hundred pounds each, and that will make up the two thousand pounds which our friend, Mr. Inskip, has promised to double. If you would only do that this evening, it would give such an impetus to our efforts to raise the whole of the money required for this building, that I do believe we should get enough, in a month, to complete it. But lest I should be disappointed, our kind friend has given me a still greater latitude. I do not want to check the nineteen friends from coming forward with their hundred pounds; but he has very kindly allowed me to say, that if a portion of it comes in hundreds, the deficiency may be made up in fifties. Now, surely with such latitude as that, we must succeed in getting the two thousand pounds. And then he has done another thing which I think was very liberal. If I fail to succeed after making this offer, I do not know what sort of a character I shall be able to give you. It is this: he will not only take it in hundreds and fifties, but, if it is more convenient for you to pay within three months, he will give you credit for that time. Now, as an old tradesman, I have known in my time what it is to be tempted by having a little credit offered me, but I took care I would not take credit for any article that I did not feel confident to be able to pay for in a given time. I feel the greatest encouragement in asking you either to send up your names for one hundred pounds each, or to those who cannot afford so much, for fifty pounds, and those who are not prepared to pay the money down, we will give three months credit. Do not let me plead in vain.

The Rev. GEORGE SMITH, of Poplar: My Lord Mayor, ladies and gentlemen, I have very great pleasure in taking some part in the deeply interesting proceedings of this night. When I think of the men who have already spoken with fervor, with pathos, with eloquence, and with the intimate knowledge of your Master, which justify them in honoring him as they have, and when I think of the other brethren on the platform of your own denomination, who will further vindicate the cause with which you are connected, and advocate the great object which you have in view,—I should shrink from the responsibility of occupying any portion of your attention, but for the fact that I belong to another denomination. I am with you in heart though I am not with you altogether in practice. I am connected with the Congregational denomination, as most of you if not all know, and I am here to testify on behalf of myself and of my brethren generally, to the very great regard we have for that gifted young man, under thirty years of age, whose name has become a worldwide reputation, and who everywhere has been greatly honored of God in turning multitudes from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God. I never had any doubt about him from the beginning. I never entertained a suspicion of him from the commencement. I never uttered an unkind word about him from the time when he commenced his ministry. I always thought that he was raised up of God to do a great and good work, and we might well rejoice if men are raised up in a way rather different from that which we had anticipated. There is a fact upon record of very great value in relation to liberty of preaching. In the days of Oliver Cromwell, many soldiers went to Edinburgh on the Lord’s day, and finding there was very indifferent preaching in the pulpits, Cromwell’s chaplain took possession of the churches and preached the word of life. The Presbytery wrote a letter complaining to the Lord Protector, that his soldiers—the men connected with the iron-hearted regiment that he headed—those iron-sides, who feared God and kept their powder dry—actually had ventured to preach the word of life in the regular sanctuary. Cromwell’s reply was worthy to be written in characters of living light, and handed down from age to age. “What! doth that offend you? I would to God that all the Lord’s servants were prophets.” And with that feeling, my lord, I am sure that we have hailed the advent of our beloved brother, Mr. Spurgeon. I hope his life will long be spared, and that a great and important work will be carried on by him. If there be a man under heaven that we might envy, and if there be a man under heaven in whom we might glorify the Grace of God, he is the man. I honor the man that he has never pandered to the public taste. He has always preached the word of life fully, faithfully, and effectually. I honor the man for the large-hearted Catholicity which has characterized him. The pulpits of the land have properly been opened to him, and he has ever been ready to preach for his brethren of every denomination. I have heard him preach in my own pulpit to crowded and delighted audiences. And I am sure that we ought to be prepared to help him in return, for he has been prepared to help very many. I am sure I am only among a large number of my brethren—and I mention it as an encouragement to others—I proposed a short time ago to the deacons of our church that, as he had often preached on behalf of other objects for us, we should invite him to come and preach, and give him a liberal collection towards this New Tabernacle. And it only waits for the time to be fixed by him, and I trust we shall all be prepared to do everything we can to promote the common welfare of this great church and congregation. I congratulate this meeting to-night most heartily and cordially upon the fact that three beloved honored men, bearing one name and related to each other, have taken part in this meeting. May they be a three-fold cord that cannot readily be broken. In expressing the largest desires for the welfare of the Baptist denomination represented by Mr. Spurgeon, I am only giving utterance to feelings that we all entertain. There is but little difference between us, but a very little difference indeed. Different sections of the church of God look at each other in the distance through the mists of prejudice and passion, and they think they are monsters; they get a little nearer and they find they are men—brethren, related to one common Father, related to one divine Redeemer who is not ashamed to call us brethren, and whether we be Baptists or psuedo-Baptists, whether we be Presbyterians or Congregationalists, whether we be Arminians or Calvinists (though I am not ashamed to call myself a Calvinist) if we are good men and true, we are related to each other, and to the Lord. Let us, then be limited, and angels shall look down from the crystal battlements of heaven and say of our congregations here—“Behold how good and how pleasant a thing it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!”

The Meeting then sung the following verse, commencing, “Jesus is worthy to receive honor and power divine.”

JOSEPH PAYNE, Esq.: ladies and gentlemen, I am very glad to meet you all upon the present occasion. I am one of those Churchmen whom my Lord Mayor has been digging in the ribs in rather an extraordinary manner; but I am not one that he would find fault with, I am sure. We have been working together too long and too often for any of his observations to be applied in that way to my humble self. The late Rev Mr. Branch used to say, that an old woman once asked him, “Mr. Branch, can you tell me what Mr. Payne is?” “Why,” said Mr. Branch, “he is a Churchman.” “No, no,” said the woman, “I am sure he ain’t.” “Why?” “Because wherever I go I sees him—at Wesleyan meetings, at Baptist meetings, at Congregational meetings, and at all sorts of meetings—well, if he is a Churchman he’s a rum un.” The Rev. Dr. Archer was once speaking at a meeting, (you see I am giving myself a character,) and he went through the list of speakers, and said—“The first is Dr. Archer, a humble Presbyterian; the second is Mr. Branch, a sturdy Baptist; the third is Mr. Gladstone, an Episcopalian; the fourth is Mr. Edward Corderoy, who belongs to the Wesleyan body, and the fifth is Joseph Payne, who belongs to nobody;” and he gave the reason—“he belongs to nobody because he belongs to everybody.” Now, I think I have said enough about myself; I am aging to say a word or two about my excellent friend, the Rev. Mr. Spurgeon. Among these decorations, there is one that I do not see, but I have it before my mind’s eye—I mean the three letters C. H. S. [A voice: “It is outside.”] Then we have it outside and inside too. Now, what does C. H. S. mean? Why, it means first, “Charles Haddon Spurgeon.” But I do not mean that. C. H. S. means a Clear-Headed Speaker, who is Clever at Handling Subjects in a Cheerful-Hearted Style; he is a Captain of the Home of Surrey; he is a Cold-Hating Spirit; he has Chapel-Heating Skill; he is a Catholic Humbug-Smasher, he is a Care-Hushing Soother; he is a Child-Helping Strengthener: he is a Christ-Horouring Soldier, and he is a Christ-Honoured Servant. Those are all the C. H. S’s, and a very good set of C. H. S’s they are. Now I desire to look back upon the past, to look round upon the vast, and to look onward to the last. I desire to look back to the past. Our friend was always popular, always clever, always active, but he was not always so popular, he had not always the large number of friends that gather round him now. I knew him and loved him, and admired him from the beginning, therefore I look back upon the past with great satisfaction to think that I had so much discernment, that has been so admirably proved, and so magnificently repaid. I look round upon the vast. It is a goodly and glorious sight to see such a meeting as this, with the Right Hon. the Lord Mayor in the chair. You know it is said there are four descriptions of speakers to preside at public meetings:—some who are able and not willing, some who are willing and not able, some who are neither able nor willing, and some who are both able and willing. Now the Lord Mayor belongs to the fourth class. He is a first-class man in some respects but a fourthclass in that respect. He has shown his willingness in coming here, and he has shown his ability in that splendid, magnificent, glorious speech that he made, though he was a little too hard upon some of us Episcopalians. I look onward to the last. Oh! what a glorious thought that will be when all the instrumentality shall be at an end, when we shall see the grand glorious gathering in the brighter and better world above! The Lord Mayor will be there, Spurgeon the grandfather will be there; the father—the mother—the brother—and Spurgeon himself will be there, and I pray God that you and I may be there also. I have a high opinion of our excellent friend for four reasons: he is a preacher that does not mumble, he is a preacher that does not grumble, he is a preacher that does not stumble, and he is a preacher that never will crumble. He is a preacher that does not mumble. One of our celebrated authorities in the law, old Seldon, says, that if a man were to call out murder in the same tone in which he would make love, nobody would come to his assistance. A minister of the gospel is calling out murder, and it is to be called out in a loud tone; not in a namby pamby style. He is also a preacher that does not grumble. You heard him tonight say how pleased he was with the salary given by the people of Park Street. He is perfectly satisfied with what he gets; though he has not half that he deserves. He is a preacher that does not stumble. Did you ever see a man walk more firmly than he does before the world and the church? He walks firmly, physically, morally, and religiously. Then he is a preacher that will not crumble. The man himself will die—many many years let it be before that consummation is arrived at! We all must die, but the reputation and character of a faithful preacher of God’s free and glorious gospel will never die. We may address the character and reputation of such a man in the language of the poet, and say:—

“The stars shall fade away; the sun himself

Grow dim in age, and nature sink in years.

But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth,

Unhurt amid the war of elements,

The wreck of matter and the crash of worlds.”

I would say—pray and believe; then persist and receive. In connection with the first, let me tell you that there was a number of farmers somewhere in Essex, who met to pray for rain in a large open field. The deacons were there; the “Lows” and the “Olneys,” and the good men of that stamp, the five pounders and the fifty pounders, and the hundred pounders were there for the purpose. It was a fine day but there was a little Sunday school girl who came with an umbrella under her arm. The minister, who was not so clever as Mr. Spurgeon, said, “Why, bless you, my good girl, what do you mean by bringing a great umbrella on such a fine day as this?” “Why, sir,” said she, “have not you all met to pray for rain? Don’t you expect to get it if you pray properly? I do, so I picked out the biggest umbrella I could find.” Well, there came a heavy shower and the ministers and the deacons were all very glad to get under the little school girl’s umbrella. And the ministers and deacons went out from under that umbrella with their heads lower than they had been before, because they had been shamed into propriety by a little Sunday school girl. Pray, then, and believe. Pray that God will give you friends, and believe that you will get them. The next is, persist and receive. There was a clergyman in Ireland who met with a ragged boy, and he took him to a ragged school. The boy was very fond of using his slate and pencil; he never put sums upon his slate, but drew ugly pictures of the boys and the master. The master did not like it, because schoolmasters, you know, are very uppish people, some of them; stuck-up people who think they ought not to be caricatured. He sent to the clergyman, saying “I cannot manage the boy at all, I wish you would take him away.” “Indeed I shall do no such thing,” said the clergyman, “I will come and see him, and talk to him. So the clergyman came, and there was the boy in the school working away with his slate and pencil. “Well,” said the clergyman, “bring up your slate let us see what you are doing.” The boy did not like to do so, but however he brought up his slate, and, giving it to the clergyman, bobbed his head down to avoid a box on the ears, which he knew he deserved and thought he might get. But that was not the clergyman’s plan. He looked at the slate and he there saw the ugliest picture of the good old clergyman himself, with long ears, very long hair, a hole in his coat, and his white choker as dirty as it could be. He looked at it and said, “You have a very good notion of drawing, my boy, my daughter draws beautifully, and if you will come to the parsonage house three times a week, she shall teach you to draw. Well, she did teach him to draw, and that boy is now an artist,—a capital painter in London. And the very first thing he did, was to paint a beautiful picture of the good clergyman and the daughter who had been so kind to him, and presented it to them in a beautiful frame, as a token of his respect and gratitude for their having saved him from destruction, and putting him in the way of gaining a honest livelihood. That clergyman persisted and received the end of his perseverance. Now I want you to persist and go on with this great work, and you will, in spite of all discouragements and difficulties, be sure to receive. You will draw people in the Tabernacle, and money to your funds, and then great things will be done. Now I have to read some verses, and then there will be an end.

My breath I will spend, and my horn I will blow,

The claims and requirements to let the world know,—

(Though my horn is not gold, but is only brass gilt,)

Of the great Tabernacle that is to be built.

Sir Samuel, Baptist, and Baronet too,

In handling the trowel to science was true,

And charged it with mortar right up to the hilt,

For the great Tabernacle that is to be built.

Unconquered, at present, friend Spurgeon is found,

But soon he will hold unapproachable ground;

For no one will dream with the pastor to tilt,

Of the great Tabernacle that is to be built.

With wonderful talent all ranks to comprise,—

The truth that he preaches to make people wise

He’ll spread o’er his hearers, just like a great quilt,

In the great Tabernacle that is to be built.

The Englishman plainly and soberly dress’d,—

The Irishman clad in his holiday vest,—

Will sit, side by side, with the Scot in his kilt,

In the great Tabernacle that is to be built.

Rich merchant of London, if such should be here,

Thou, friend to a preaching sublime and sincere,

Can’st not give too much, give whatever thou wilt,