Chapter 45: "Counterfeits"
Chapter 45.
"Counterfeits"
Gloomy National Outlook—Death of the Prince Consort—Second Lecture before the Young Men's Christian Association—The College and its Work—Hartley Colliery—Deaths of Dr. Reed and James Sherman.
As the Metropolitan Tabernacle was still a new institution, it continued to be a great centre of attraction. As a chapel, its mere size made it an object of the greatest novelty to all Christian visitors from the provinces and from foreign countries. If the congregation at the Surrey Gardens had presented a striking spectacle, this was still more wonderful, because the vast permanent building seemed to bear its silent but still overwhelming testimony to the lasting popularity of the preacher. Whoever properly understood the man and his surroundings fully realised that he was master of the situation; and that while no one could well be further removed from self-seeking, he perfectly understood how to turn all things to account in the service to which he was called. Thus, when the pastor was depicted in clever articles as being all that was objectionable without any redeeming traits, large numbers, who would not otherwise have been attracted, visited the Metropolitan Tabernacle to see the strange creature for themselves. So far that was satisfactory: only let the people come within earshot, and the preacher would give forth what was good for them whether they liked it or not. Large numbers who came went away benefited. The following account of the pastor and his daily life belongs to this time:—
"No one is so well able to judge of Mr. Spurgeon as those who are constantly associated with him in the work of the Lord, and who know something of that part of his life which is hidden from the public eye. As one of those so associated, I do most solemnly bear witness that it is impossible for any man to be more fully consecrated in body, soul, and spirit to the service of the Lord and His Church than he is. For that alone he lives and labours; not only is it the duty, but it is the joy of his life; and often has it been our lot to witness him labouring ardently, nay, joyously, under physical ailment the most severe, such as would have alarmed and prostrated an ordinary man. Very little of his time, comparatively, is spent at his own home. At the same hour in the morning that City merchants are seen wending their way to their counting-houses, he may be seen on his road to the Tabernacle, where he frequently remains fully occupied in the Master's work until ten o'clock at night. As to his income, save what is barely sufficient for his domestic expenditure, he gives all to the darling object of his heart, the College for young men, and other benevolent objects; and with respect to that College, if you did but know the glorious success some of the young men have had in the conversion of souls by the Lord's blessing, and who are now pastors of prospering labour, it would gladden your heart as it has done ours in no small degree; and, great as Mr. Spurgeon's work is as a preacher of the Gospel, you would say it is small compared to what the Lord is doing by him through the instrumentality of the College." The year 1861 was drawing to a close amidst apprehension and shades of gloom. What would come of the quarrel between North and South in America? What would happen in Lancashire if the cotton supply were suddenly stopped? While some may have been trying to answer such questions, the news of the Prince Consort's illness caused alarm to be felt throughout England, and then came the shock of the good Prince's death. The nation was in mourning; sympathy for the widowed Queen was universal. In thousands of pulpits reference was made to the subject, and Spurgeon spoke out in a way which did credit to his heart as well as his head. On Sunday morning, December 22, the Tabernacle was draped in black, and a large number of the congregation were in mourning. The text was Amo 3:6, and referring to the royal death-bed, the preacher said:—
"Evil may be taken to mean calamity, and the saddest of calamities has just visited our city. You have lost a man who deserves nothing but good at your hands, and who, standing as he has always done in a most perilous position, has conducted himself so as to have become not only revered but beloved by all classes in the country. Our grief at the calamity is enhanced by the natural apprehension that must arise as to what may come next. We have lost one of the great ones of the land, and the dread sounds of approaching war can be heard rumbling from across the waters. It is at such a time that the very corner-stone of our royal house has been taken away, and our Sovereign is left a widow. What next? and next? We have great faith in our Constitution, but it is to God we must turn in faith to redeem us from the peril. Saddest and tenderest part of the calamity is that by it the Queen has lost her husband. Widows in the ordinary ranks of life have friends, relatives, and neighbours to condole and strengthen them in their affliction, but our Queen has lost in the Prince Consort her only friend and counsellor, and is in fact the saddest widow in the land, standing as she now does on her lofty pedestal in the very desolation of isolation. You feel that not for all her honours and advantages would anyone stand in the situation of our beloved Queen, thus left lone and desolate in her deep sorrow. I regret that I have not the powers of a Robert Hall, or a Chalmers, to paint truly the sorrows of our Queen. My lips are unaccustomed to courtly phrases; I can only stammer and blunder out my impressions, but my heart weeps for that royal lady who in the seclusion of her chamber now mourns the loved husband, the wise counsellor, the steadfast friend and adviser, who has gone never to return. And in saying this I feel that I only echo the sentiment of my congregation, for I believe that in our whole history of royal personages there is not. another case of a single death which has caused so much sorrow in the land."
These were the preacher's honest sentiments, for his words always came from his heart, and he cordially recognised the good example set by the Queen in maintaining the purity of the Court. At a festive assembly of ministers and denominational representatives I have heard Mr. Spurgeon, as chairman, remark that the loyalty of the English people was founded on real appreciation of the monarch. On that sad Sunday in Christmas week, 1861, there was no prominent man in the country who more warmly sympathised with the Royal Family in their affliction than the pastor of the Metropolitan Tabernacle.
Thus the old year closed in gloom, and 1862 came in with wars and rumours of wars which seemed to impart to its opening days an ominous uncertainty. Neither public calamities nor personal ailments seemed to interfere with the great and ever widening work in progress at the Metropolitan Tabernacle, however. The pastor was still only twenty-six; but great as his popularity had been at the opening of 1861, his influence at its close appeared to be even more commanding. The printed sermons were attaining to a popularity which gave to the preacher an audience scattered over every part of the English-speaking world. On account of the discourses being given extempore, a fair crop of printers' errors occurred; but otherwise the doctrines given were so identical with what they had been at the start, that the pastor declared his motto to be Semper idem. The old theology was held to be incapable of improvement, despite the commotion which the publication of "Essays and Reviews" had occasioned. It was therefore no small satisfaction to see the printed copies of the sermons increasing in popularity. During the year 200,000 numbers were presented to all who were in any way connected with the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge. A special edition in German was also printed for the Leipsic Book Fair. The translators did not even overlook the aborigines of New Zealand; while the circulation of the discourses in English became still more extensive by the United States newspapers, which reprinted them entire.
Though not in the best of health, Mr. Spurgeon struck a cheerful note on Sunday morning, January 5, when his subject was "A Psalm for the New Year" (2Pe 3:18), "But grow in grace," etc. The weekly sermon now began to be printed in larger type, the size of each number being increased from eight to twelve pages. On Tuesday, January 7, Mr. Spurgeon again appeared before the Young Men's Christian Association at Exeter Hall, the subject of the lecture being "Counterfeits." Mr. Robert Bevan was again in the chair, a number of notable persons being also on the platform. The hall was so densely crowded, and the curiosity of the audience so manifest, that Mr. Shipton's general order to "sit down and sit close," was by no means untimely. The interest of the occasion was probably heightened by certain paragraphs and letters which had appeared, and which showed that a distinguished University doctor had declined to fulfil an engagement to lecture before the Young Men's Christian Association because his name was associated with that of Spurgeon. "If Dr. Thomson has declined to row in a boat in which Mr. Spurgeon takes an oar, we entirely approve of his, or any other gentleman's, reluctance to be bracketed with a person of this sort," said The Saturday Review. "It is an indication that a better type of Palmerston bishop has at length been thought of. A bishop is not in his place coquetting with Spurgeon, writing pretty letters to him and to 'shining lights of the Nonconformist pulpit,' and congratulating them on their labours and successes." The late Dr. Tait, who was then Bishop of London, was happily not of this order; and he had recently written a letter to Mr. Spurgeon which did credit both to his head and heart. No civility to Spurgeon could be tolerated by his more bigoted and uncompromising opponents. "Assuming that the letter is genuine," it was meanly remarked, "it is very likely that the bishop only meant to be civil to the Baptist preacher, and wrote a letter of ordinary conventionalism and platitude." Then it was added, "Most likely Mr. Spurgeon publishes it only to avert the waning popularity which the newspapers announce." The preacher's "waning popularity" received a curious kind of illustration when Exeter Hall was again densely crowded, and the young pastor rose amidst prolonged acclamation to give his lecture on "Counterfeits." The lecture began by showing that it was almost generally allowed to be a good thing to be a follower of Christ. "To be, or not to be"—"To be, or to seem to be"—that was the struggle of the present age, as it had been the contest of all times.
"Nowadays there is a temptation for men to act as if to look like a Christian was as useful as to be one. The demon Counterfeit says, 'If charity be an admirable grace, let our name figure in every subscription list. If it be a great and a good thing to do something in the service of God, let us help others who are doing something and that proxy service will do as well. If to possess godliness be difficult, let us profess it, and we shall have all the advantage of it without the labour.' Again he will tell you that if you wish to win the confidence of your employer, and religion stands in the way, you must seem to be religious and you will succeed; but you must keep a guard upon your lips and tune your speech after the orthodox fashion. Then he argues, 'How much cheaper it is. Where sculptors have produced statues in marble, you fill up with figures in plaster. They will not cost a hundredth part as much, and will answer every purpose. Economy should be the order of the day. It is troublesome to repent; it is expensive to give up sins, to tear off lust's right arm, to be born again, and to pass from death to life. By the pretence of godliness you will win all and without any trouble or pain.' How many, tempted by this short cut, accept the counterfeit and neglect the reality? Then saith the Evil One, 'It looks quite as well and will last as long. Play your cards well, avoid all appearance of evil, and the keenest observer will fail to detect you.' Now you may play at this masquerade all through your youth and manhood, and even when you grow old you may scatter a halo of saintship around your hoary head, while your heart is as black as hell. Time was when men boldly declared what they believed was right; but, says the fiend, 'We know better now—this is not an age of bigots. We may swear to certain articles while we mean the contrary thing, and yet be thought good men.'" So expansive indeed was the charity of the age that men who accepted one thing and preached another might even be recognised as ministers of Christ. Mr. Spurgeon himself had got into the habit of calling a spade a spade, and of expressing what he believed in plain Saxon language, so that he confessed to hardly knowing where he was, whether he was standing on his head or his feet, or whether he had any brains at all, when he heard what was evidently black heresy described as orthodox things to believe. It was the same when a man gave out what was opposite to the truth, and then declared that all came to the same thing as the truth. The lecture then proceeded:—
"Now Counterfeit is the man for such an age. He will never grow angry with an opponent because he has nothing to be angry about. He is a very nice man for all companies, a very delightful person for a drawing-room, because he will never raise any controversies. He is just the man for editors of periodicals and the conductors of newspapers. He is the very individual to whom the age points as one up to the times, and free from all the stereotyped notions of the barbaric past. Now it is fair to admit that there is something in this style of reasoning—that is to say, just enough to make it take. Alas! how many there are both in high and low places who profess that they never experienced, and wear colours which are not their own. How many tradesmen are there who hold themselves out as honest simply because it answers their purpose? They would not wish to be thought rogues, but they are rogues for all that. How many young men in warehouses are there who, if their master compelled them to lay aside scruples, would not do so? Thank God, we have thousands of employers and tradesmen who would not do the wrong thing, but still we read of daily disclosures of the contrary. No doubt some men make a good thing of their religion. By the mere profession of godliness their shops may be thronged and their business advanced. Goods will move off: more rapidly when perfumed with godliness. In England at least the advantage is as much on the side of profession as non-profession. It is but honest to say so, and therefore men have inducements to counterfeit the possession of the quality I have mentioned. It is said that there were many hypocrites in Cromwell's time. I do not think many were to be found in Charles II.'s reign, as it did not pay. If a man then professed godliness, he lost his emoluments and soon got in the common gaol."
It was a matter for congratulation that times were so different from the days of persecution that services were even held in theatres, and churches were active. Nevertheless, the same showers which made the flowers rejoice, also brought out snails and slugs from their hiding-places. Persons in whom the habit of imitation was stronger than honour, at times professed to have undergone conversions which had never been experienced. The Church seemed to be under peculiar danger from pretended religion on account of the plentifulness of religious books and biographies. The Romish Church was then depicted as "Satan's Masterpiece of Counterfeits."
"The honest eye of Luther, kindled with the light of heaven, saw through the fabrication and told us the whole truth, and now the world rejected with loathing the counterfeit which it once so joyfully received. There might be some who would bring it back again, but surely they would fail. It could not be possible that the counterfeit of a counterfeit—Puseyism—could ever succeed. It was base enough when the harlot of Rome put on the garments of Christ's spouse; but to wear her rags was something execrable. To say the least, there was some attraction in the glittering pretence of the Roman Church; but paint and glitter, instead of gold and marble and precious stones, surely would not influence the enlightened minds of this century, so as to bring back an old counterfeit in place of the Gospel of Christ." The young men were then urged not to pretend to be what they were not: it was a miserable thing to be thought a rich man and to be in reality a poor one.
"You are waited upon for subscriptions for every charity, and you must keep up establishments, but bills will at last come in for payment. That is just the position of a man who pretends to be a follower of Christ. He is like a drunken man whom I have seen attempting to walk on both sides of the street at the same time. Shops are sometimes filled with shams—parcels which contain nothing, empty bottles, drawers which do not pull out, and tea-canisters which never came from China. Going the other day into a cheesemonger's shop, I happened to tap a large cheese with my stick, when I found that it sounded hollow. I asked the proprietor what was the matter with it, and he could only reply that I had discovered a hypocrite in his window. Now, in churches we find people of hollow character like that, who look extremely like what they should be, but if you happen to tap them, you readily find of what they are composed." The course of lectures given at Exeter Hall during the winter of 1861-2 was abundantly interesting; for the list included "Miracles," by Dr. Candlish; "The New Testament Narrative," by Dr. Miller; and "Lord Macaulay," by Morley Punshon. Mr. Spurgeon had previously been unwell; he did not preach on the last Sunday of the year; yet now, as one observer remarked, if there was not "the usual amount of electricity in him, yet it required a skilful eye to make the discovery." We find the scene generally described as "a grand spectacle," the discourse itself being "novel, startling, and useful, instinct with life and overflowing with eloquence." The magnitude of the audience showed the interest felt by the public in the lecturer and his theme. As he had done before, Mr. Spurgeon disclaimed all pretensions to being a lecturer: he was only a preacher; but one, in refusing to admit this plea, said that he should like to have lecturing and preaching clearly defined. Dr. Campbell remarked that there need be no fear of giving the people too much Gospel; and it was because Spurgeon gave the people as much of the Gospel as he did, that his lectures deserved to be so highly valued.
"Let not the admirers of gifted men be offended if we say that we deem the discourse of last Tuesday of greater value than the whole of the previous lectures of the present course. It was a hundred times more adapted to promote the salvation of souls. We shall not be surprised if some scores—it may be hundreds—of the vast assembly should be roused to a sense of their true condition by the feeling and faithful appeals which were then addressed to them." At this time the work of the Pastors' College was being vigorously carried on, the expenditure being at the rate of about £1,600 a year. Over twenty students were being educated, and nineteen had already settled in pastorates. In addition to these, there were 150 young business men who were receiving instruction in the evening classes. Mr. Spurgeon still regarded this institution as being the chief work of his life, next to preaching the Gospel; and he still endeavoured to make all of his friends understand that the methods of the tutors differed from those of other colleges. The one qualification for admission was a gift for preaching, and possessing that, a man was acceptable, however poor his general education might be. This method of dealing with candidates was thought to be altogether consistent with common sense. "It is certain that many men who are toiling at Latin and Greek with very slender success, would be far more profitably engaged in learning English and getting general information," we find it remarked in a general statement of the time. "Such men only prove a drag upon their fellow-students in the classes, and get little good themselves. If a man can learn Greek and Hebrew, he finds the tutors ready enough to admit him into the classes; but in cases where no good could come of such an attempt, he is not dragged along in order to make him keep in rank, but is directed to a course of study suitable to his capabilities." The annual meeting of the College was held on Wednesday, January 29, when the founder gave a full account of the origin and progress of the work. As the College Buildings were not then in existence, the rooms and lecture-hall of the Tabernacle had to be used for all purposes, even when, as would sometimes be the case, 1,200 or 2,000 persons would come to tea. On this occasion, the tutor-in-chief, George Rogers, was described as "a quiet, modest man, of rare endowments, who ought long since to have been at the head of an academic institution." What was more entertaining, however, were Spurgeon's references to the characteristics of the students themselves. Thus, soon after the start was made, and when at least one student had been turned into a success, another aspirant appeared on the scenes who was "quite as original." If his mind had been locked up in an iron safe, it could not have been more inaccessible to the tutor; for although it was plain to ordinary people that two and two made four, this well-meaning youth could hardly be made to rise to the apprehension of that fact. Professor Rogers was quite ingenious in the methods he used for stimulating this intellect into action, but all were in vain until the main facts of astronomy were set before him. The awakening touch was then given—"his mind seemed to burst the shell: he became a new man." In a word, he developed great preaching powers, and in what had been an empty chapel gathered a large congregation. In January, 1862, the country was shocked by the news of the dreadful catastrophe at Hartley Colliery, in which over two hundred workpeople in the pit were killed. The sympathy awakened was very general: collections for widows and children left destitute were made at the Mansion House and elsewhere. At the Tabernacle week-night service on January 30, Mr. Spurgeon gave attention to the subject and made a collection for the survivors. The text was Job 14:14, "If a man die, shall he live again?" It was shown that people in general thought too little of death, and hence Providence thrust it before them. The warning had lately been heard in the palace; and now among common workpeople, who were as apt as others to neglect the future life, it was also being heard in tones of thunder. The question of the text was answered negatively and then affirmatively:—
"'If a man die, shall he live again?' No! he shall not live again here—he shall not live again for himself to make glad his household. If he lived a sinful life, this life shall never be repeated. If there were pleasures in sin, the dead would not come back to repeat them—to take in vain the name of that God who had daily loaded them with benefits—in whom they lived and moved and had their being. They would have no more opportunity for their base ingratitude to their Maker, whom they treated worse than the 'ox which knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib.' Nor would they ever live again to stifle the remorseful conscience. And it was quite as well for the wicked that they could not live again; for, whatever they might think to the contrary, if they lived again they would live as they had lived before—the filthy would be filthy still, and they would increase their condemnation. On the other hand, the righteous would not live again to repent of sin, to suffer for their righteousness. They would not bring back to strife and contest the victor when he wore the crown, the mariner who had gained the shore! And if a man would not live again for himself, neither would he live again for others. If there were any in that fatal pit who led others into vice, they would not live again to do so. The man who was living an idle and useless life, would not live again to set his bad example. There was no moral quarantine; but if they only had a clear perception of the leprosy of vice, they would shudder at those overt and covert influences by which some men were daily exercised for evil. There were some men who carried, as it were, a moral plague about them; but those would not live again to pour out moral poison and pollute the very air they breathed. As with the evil, so it was with the good. They would not live again to do their duty to their God and to their fellow-men. In the pit with those poor men at Hartley were some of the Primitive Methodist local preachers, men selected to preach to others because they could preach from the heart to the heart, though not perhaps grammatically. That was the true principle of New Testament Christianity—to select men for ministers, not for their scholarship, but because they had the Christian life within them. They would do more good amongst the working classes in London if they were not quite so squeamish on these points. If a man die, shall he live again? Yes! but not here. His soul would live again in a resurrection life. The poor mangled forms in the pit would live again. They would all live again, the consciences of the evil would live again and be their continual tormentors. Their victims too would live again; and those whom they had wronged would live again and reproach them. The good would also live again as flowers transplanted from one spot, where they could only bud, to another where they would bloom with everlasting freshness." In February of this year died James Sherman and Dr. Reed the philanthropist, two earnest men for whom Mr. Spurgeon felt a strong regard. The old-time leaders were fast passing away.