Chapter Eighteen
Chapter 18.
Memorial Service for Children On the afternoon of Lord's-day, February 14th, 1892, the children of the various Sunday-schools connected with the Metropolitan Tabernacle; the boys and girls of the Stockwell Orphanage; and the orphans from Mrs. Sharman's Homes, which are situated in the immediate neighbourhood, were gathered together, almost ten thousand of the little people being crowded into the building.
Rev. V. J. Charlesworth, head-master of the Stockwell Orphanage, conducted a selected choir of the boys of the Institution, who sang, "Servant of God, well done!" and "The Homeland," being accompanied by Mr. F. G. Ladds, the secretary.
Deacon William Olney, president of Haddon Hall, led in a brief and impressive prayer between these two hymns, the children repeating sentence by sentence after him.
Deacon S. R. Pearce, superintendent of the Tabernacle Sunday-school, gave a short address, in which he contrasted previous gatherings of the children in the Tabernacle with the meeting now held under such sad circumstances. Pointing to the mourning draperies which surrounded the platform, he said:—"Most of the young friends present know why these were placed here, and what they mean. This memorial service is one of a series, occasioned by the death of our beloved Pastor, C. H. Spurgeon. After forty years of faithful service, he has gone to be with Jesus. From this sacred spot, where I am now standing, the gospel has been preached in all its fulness and simplicity, so that the youngest amongst them might understand.
"Mr. Spurgeon was once a little boy like some of you, and on one occasion, when he was engaged in making 'mud pies' at his father's door, a visitor drew near, and asked his father who that little fellow was he had just seen outside. Yet that little boy grew up to be a great preacher, and the beloved of all our hearts. His lips were now silent, and his dear hands were cold in death; but let us remember what he had said, and let us love the God whom he had loved, and serve the dear Saviour whom he had served so faithfully.
"If the Pastor could speak to us now, he would say, 'Sorrow not for me: trust Jesus whom I have trusted, and be ready in season and out of season to serve him.' In conclusion, Mr. Pearce told the simple and touching story of an officer wounded in the fight, who, when a soldier came to comfort him, said, "Never mind me, keep the flag flying." "So," he said, "the beloved one would have us not to sorrow as those without hope, but he would desire us to keep the gospel flag flying, that others might become true soldiers of the cross, and more than conquerers, through him who loved us and gave himself for us."
Mr. J. Manton Smith, whose cornet had a bow of crape upon it, after leading the children in the singing of two hymns, "There is a land of pure delight," and "Anywhere with Jesus," asked them to repeat his text word for word. With great gusto, the children thundered:— "Samuel one—chapter three—verse nineteen: 'The Lord was with him, and did let none of his words fall to the ground."
He then said:—"Dear children,—On several occasions it has been my happy privilege to speak to united Sunday-schools from this platform. I have always found it to be an easy and delightful task. But today I have a somewhat more difficult duty to perform, for all our hearts have been made sad by the death of our beloved Pastor. He has gone from our midst, but his noble deeds and loving message will never die, for the Lord was with him, and he will not let his words fall to the ground. Some of you may remember that a little over a year ago, in a somewhat similar gathering to this, I told about a little shepherd boy in Scotland, named Jamie, who was very ill. His master loved him and was very kind to him, but felt sad because he did not know how to help him to die. So he asked a nobleman, who was a Christian, if he would go to the shepherd's cottage with him, and speak to the dying boy. The nobleman spoke to him about sheep and lambs in such a way, that Jamie became quite interested. Then he said, 'I know a shepherd, Jamie, who has a great many sheep and a great many lambs. He knows them all and loves them dearly, and he laid down his life for his sheep. Jamie, I am one of his sheep, and he wants you to be one of his lambs. If you will, from your heart, say to him, 'Lord Jesus, I will accept thee as my Saviour just now,' then you will be able to say truly, with me, 'The Lord is my Shepherd.'" Jamie said, 'I should like to say that.'" 'Well, Jamie,' said the nobleman, 'I will tell you how you can remember it; repeat it, after me, on your knuckles. There are five words, and you have five knuckles. So with a finger on one knuckle after the other, they said several times, 'The Lord is my Shepherd.'" The next day, when the nobleman called at the shepherd's cottage to see Jamie, Jamie's mother was weeping bitterly.
"He said to her, 'How is Jamie this morning?'" She sobbed out of her broken heart, "Jamie's gone. Jamie's gone." "Well," said the nobleman, "And how did he die?" "He died with his finger on the fourth knuckle," said the mother.
"What word does that stand for, children?" asked Mr. Smith, and the children all shouted, "MY, sir."
"At our last gathering, when I told this story, there was a little fellow three years old here, named Stanley Smith, who sometimes calls me father. He evidently remembered it, for last Monday week, when his mother told him that dear Mr. Spurgeon was dead, little Stanley looked up, and said—'Is he? Which finger did he die on?' And when I arrived home from Dover, he met me in the hall, and said—'Father, Mr. Spurgeon has died, and gone to heaven on the fourth knuckle.' I took the little fellow up and kissed him. 'God bless you, my child,' I said, what Jesus said is true, 'Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise.'" Our beloved Mr. Spurgeon was the shepherd of the sheep who worship in this Tabernacle, he was also himself a sheep of the Shepherd who is in heaven; and now he has gone to the great Shepherd's fold.
"When Mr. Spurgeon was a little boy, a gentleman, visiting his grandfather, took him on his knee and gave him a new sixpence, and said, 'Charley, my boy, when you become a preacher remember this sixpence, and let the first hymn you give out be—
"God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform."
"And Mr. Spurgeon did so. During the last week we have been learning the truth of this hymn, but we know God always does right.
"What the people said about John the Baptist can be truly said about our dear departed Pastor. 'Spurgeon did no miracles, but all things that Spurgeon spake of Jesus were true.' Like the child Samuel, who is referred to in our text, he began early in life to serve the Lord."
Mr. Smith here told, in his own graphic way, the story of Samuel and Eli, and then showed the children how Mr. Spurgeon, like Samuel, early heard God's voice, and answered to his call.
"Those who hear the call of God," he continued, "and obey it, are safe, trustful, useful, and happy. Would you not all wish to be like that? What is it to be safe? When Mr. Spurgeon was a little boy, he used to live with his grandfather. On his grandfather's shelf there stood a large bottle with a small neck, and inside this bottle there was a large apple. This was a standing puzzle to Mr. Spurgeon when he was a little boy.
"'How did the apple get inside the bottle,' he asked his grandfather.
"The reply he received was, 'Find out.'" Me then asked his grandmother, who gave him the same kind of answer. He examined the bottle to see if there were any joins and marks where it had been put together, but could not see any, and so he asked his grandfather again.
"His grandfather still said, 'Find out.'" When quite alone, he put on his grandmother's spectacles, and looked carefully into the bottle to see if the apple had been put in in sections, but no, it was quite whole.
"One day he walked down his grandfather's garden, and saw a bottle tied on to one of the branches of an apple tree, and a little tiny apple growing at the end of the branch inside the bottle. He had now discovered the secret, and ran into the house, saying, 'Now I know how that big apple got into that bottle on the shelf: it grew inside.' The cold frost might come, and nip some of the other apples, but this one was safe, because it was inside the bottle. Now the Sunday-school and the Church are like this bottle: they shield many who enter it while they are young from a cruel, cold world, and many blasts of temptation."
Several other interesting illustrations followed, showing what it was to be trustful and useful, the children paying eager attention. To make the last point clear, the speaker said:—"Some years ago I visited a little boy, at the point of death, in Scotland. Seeing how weak he was, I told him I would not weary him with a long talk, so sang to him a verse which ran as follows:—
"Oh! you must be a lover of the Lord, Or you can't go to heaven when you die."
He looked at me smiling, and said—"'I like that, I should like to sing it myself."
"It pleased him much, and he said—"'I should like Mr. Fullerton to hear me sing that.' As he was in the next room, I called him in, and we both listened to his feeble effort to sing the verse, which, in his pretty Scotch accent, sounded very sweet. The next morning I called to see him before leaving for London, and he said—"'I have learnt another verse.'" 'What is it?' I said; and he at once began to sing—
"Yes! I am a lover of the Lord, So I shall go to heaven when I die."
Then he looked up into my face, and said—"Shall I go to heaven?" "Yes, indeed," I said, "you will if you are a lover of the Lord." "Ah, sir!" he said, "I do love him, and I know he loves me."
Rev. A. T. Pierson, D.D., led the children in prayer, which, as at the beginning, they repeated clause by clause; and after singing—
"Oh! that will be joyful, When we meet to part no more,"
the large company of little people dispersed.