Chapter 29: Dr. Campbell's Estimate

Chapter 29.
Dr. Campell's Estimate

Reappearance of the Pastor at New Park Street—First Service in the Music Hall after the Accident—False Rumours—Death of Richard Knill—Spurgeon at Birmingham.

Although for the time it seemed as though the young pastor's mind would be unhinged by the terrible ordeal he had passed through, he was only absent from his pulpit for one Sunday—the last in October, when Dr. Alexander Fletcher preached at New Park Street Chapel. Mr. Spurgeon's voice was again heard in his own pulpit on November 2, when the chapel, was so densely crowded that two thousand persons are said to have been present. We find it remarked that "the greatest decorum was observed in every part of the spacious edifice, and throughout the whole of the service." It was announced that the fund on behalf of the injured sufferers, who numbered twenty-eight, amounted to £70. The sermon was founded on Php 2:9, "Wherefore God also hath highly exalted Him, and given Him a name which is above every name." In commencing, the preacher said:—

"Now, my dear friends, I almost regret this morning that I occupy this pulpit. I regret it because I feel utterly unable to preach to you to your profit. I have thought during the period of relaxation I have had since that terrible catastrophe which has befallen us, that I had thoroughly recovered; but on coming back to this spot again I feel somewhat of the same feelings which prostrated me before. Ton will therefore excuse me this morning if I make no allusion, or scarcely any at all, to recent circumstances; for were I to enter into the subject, and to bring to your remembrance that solemn scene, I should speedily be forced to be silent. It might not have been the malice of men so much as some have thought. It was probably the intention of the parties to disturb the congregation, but not to commit the terrible crime which resulted in the death of several individuals. God forgive those who did it! They have my forgiveness from the bottom of my soul. I may say, however, dear brethren, that we shall not be daunted at what has taken place; and I shall preach again in that place yet! God shall give us souls there, and Satan's empire shall tremble more yet; for I believe that God is with us, and who is he that can be against us? The text is one which has comforted me and enabled me to come here today in order to try and comfort you. I shall not attempt to preach from the text, I shall only make a few remarks; for I have been utterly unable to study, and I trust your loving hearts will excuse me." At the service preceding the communion in the evening, the chapel was, if possible, even more crowded than in the morning. On Tuesday afternoon, November 11, Mr. Spurgeon preached a sermon at the Tabernacle, Tottenham Court Road, his appearance in that pulpit being a part of the programme of the centenary commemoration of the chapel. The discourse was founded on Hab 3:2, "O Lord, revive Thy work;" and it may be read entire in The Baptist Messenger for February, 1856. When the Surrey Gardens Music Hall was engaged in the first instance it was for four Sundays; but in consequence of the catastrophe the meeting of October 19 was not taken into the reckoning. "The directors of the Surrey Gardens Company acted most generously in regard to the unfortunate evening on which Mr Spurgeon made his debut in the Music Hall. They gave that night for nothing, the New Park Street congregation paying half the damage; and, consequently, yesterday was the first of the four Sundays for which the hall is engaged." The meeting on this occasion was a grateful contrast to the former one; for as one account says, "perfect order and sacred silence" reigned throughout. The members of the New Park Street congregation were admitted by ticket before the general public; but the latter did not muster in anything like the numbers of the first meeting, as the total assembly was not supposed to exceed eight thousand. A strong body of police was in attendance; great precautions were taken to prevent any recurrence of panic; and in case of any false alarm being given, people were advised to keep their seats, and, if possible, to detain the offenders. The newspapers of the time call attention to "the enormous pulpit," which at that time was quite of a novel pattern, being in reality a platform with a low desk, which allowed the preacher sufficient space to move about. This first service, after the terrible affair of four weeks previously, was no doubt a severe trial to the young preacher; and it was evident that memories of October 19 were still afflicting him. In the course of the general prayer Mr. Spurgeon said:—

"Wherever people are assembled to worship God, that place is sacred, whether beneath the magnificent canopy of the blue sky, or in a building such as that in which we are assembled; every place is sacred when devoted to such a purpose, for God is everywhere. May God be in our midst at this time! Let nothing frighten His sheep. Grant that they may feed in quietness. Grant that the preacher may preach with that earnestness which becomes a man who must soon stand before his Maker's bar—a dying man to dying men. May this be a time of great display of the grace of God. Let sinners be saved. Let the people be saved, and glory be gotten to the name of the Most High God by this service. Thou who hast shown us great troubles wilt quicken us again and bring us from the depths of our woe. Thou who hast smitten us and wounded us to the quick, lift up the light of Thy countenance upon us, and multiply Thy blessings amongst us. Grant that music, sweeter than is often heard here, may arise, even the music of the penitential sigh, and the aspiration of the breaking heart, mourning over its own wickedness." The quaint way in which the preacher announced the portion of Scripture to be read, attracted much notice. "Let us read that ancient story of the God who became flesh and dwelt among us, and was crucified for our sins; the story of the crucifixion as it is contained in the 15th chapter of Mark's Gospel." It was thought that the comment was coloured by the recent strictures of the Press on the preacher himself in connection with the disaster of a month before.

"Our Lord knew the dignity of silence. He is a wise man who can hold his tongue. 'In the multitude of words there wanteth not sin.' Our Saviour bore insults, endured scorn, obloquy, and calumny, but 'opened not His mouth.' Let us learn to do the same; for often it is the best way to contend with our enemies to keep our swords in their scabbards. It is the best way to win battles to refuse to enter the lists with our enemies. If men speak evil of us, it is the height of folly to wage battle with them. True knights fight only with true knights. So let true men think it folly to fight with liars. If they lie against us, we are too great to repulse them." Further on it was added that the cross they had to bear was only a wooden one, though it may be painted in colours of iron; and in any case crown-wearers would have first to be cross-bearers.

Among the exaggerated rumours which had gone abroad since the attempt to preach in the Music Hall, was one relating to the vast dimensions of the new chapel it was proposed to erect. On this theme Mr. Spurgeon made a statement which corrected some misapprehensions:—

"There have been a great many rumours abroad respecting the new chapel, the building of which has been contemplated by a number of my friends. It has been asserted that we want to build a Tabernacle capable of holding 15,000 people. With respect to that I will only say that some truthful person has thought fit to put a '1' before the '5,' for we have never entertained even a thought of building such a place. It has, however, been thought that a place of worship capable of accommodating about 5,000 persons was necessary. For my own part I have no wish for such a place, only I cannot bear to see, Sabbath after Sabbath, as many people go away as enter the chapel where we have been accustomed to assemble for worship. It is the will of people to come in large multitudes to listen to my feeble proclamation of the truths of the Gospel. I have not asked them to come, it is their own free will; and if it is a sin in me that they should do so, it is at least an uncommon sin, which many others would like to commit if they could. It has been said, 'Let those who wish to hear me pay for their seats.' That would defeat the object I have in view. I want to preach to those who cannot afford to pay for seats in a chapel, and it is my wish to admit as many of the general public as possible. There will be no collecting-boxes passed round today; but as there are necessarily expenses attending the celebration of Divine worship in this hall, the contributions of such as are disposed will be received at the doors on leaving. Do not think we are begging. If you think so, we would not have your money as a gift. It is open for all to do just as they like. Many of my friends, I know, are most anxious on the subject of a larger place of worship than we have at present, and would give double what they have done if they could afford it. It is proposed to hold a service here on the three following Sunday mornings. It is much to the inconvenience of my congregation to attend here. We have a comfortable place of worship elsewhere. There we are very happy together; there I have a congregation, and as many members as any mortal man can desire. It is only with a view of winning souls to God that wo have come to this larger place, and should we be accused of other objects the judgment-day will lay bare what our motives have truly been."

There can be no doubt that the disaster at the Music Hall had the effect of increasing Mr. Spurgeon's fame, great as it had been before; and very strong evidence of this is seen in the number of newspaper and other articles which appeared even after the excitement of the accident had passed away. One of the chief among veteran journalists who defended Mr. Spurgeon on all occasions, and towards the end of the year 1856 published several articles in a separate form, was the Dr. Campbell, from whom we have quoted, and who was then editor of one or two monthly magazines as well as of The British Banner, which paper he relinquished at the end of 1856, however, to start on his own account The British Standard. Born in 1795, the doctor was nearly forty years older than his friend of New Park Street, so that there was some propriety in his standing forth as a defender on the one hand and offering advice on the other. At first he had regarded Spurgeon as an upstart. Throughout a large section of the religious world Dr. Campbell's opinions were received with the deference due to one of such ability and character. Some weeks after the Surrey Gardens calamity the doctor gave an elaborate review of Spurgeon as a preacher. The subject, he remarked, had drawn forth much from observers or critics who had too slight a knowledge of the subject to warrant their being heard. In any case, the pastor of New Park Street had a manner which was his own, and those who disliked it were not obliged to sit as hearers at his feet:—

"Mr. Spurgeon is, in all respects, an original—a preacher of heaven's own formation; and hence all is nature and all is life, while that life and that nature are among the millions a power. Is he abrupt, blunt, direct? It is nature. Is he idiomatic, colloquial, playful, dramatic? It is nature. But it is needless to dwell on these subordinate points. 'Every man in his own order,' whether he there stand as an individual or one of a multitude. Nature is power, artifice impotence. Without nature no man can please much and please long. Nature responds only to nature; it turns a deaf ear to all that is contrary. Art may captivate the fancy; nature alone can subdue the heart."

Deserved or undeserved, the popularity of Mr. Spurgeon was a fact which no one could deny; no other man had such a hold of the people. It was not for such a man to cut his locks to suit his critics. The doctrines he preached were identical with those preached by the fathers of a former generation. How was such popularity to be accounted for?

"He owes nothing to the pomp and circumstance of priesthood. There the youthful preacher stands in all the simplicity of his unsophisticated character. He owes nothing to relation or rank, or the accidents of life, which have sometimes contributed to great temporary popularity. What, then, is the source of this unprecedented attraction? It lies partly, but not merely, in the externals of his eloquence; it is primarily in the soul of the man—a soul large, liberal, and loving; a soul stamped by the characteristics of a little child, while putting forth the powers of one of David's 'mighties.' He is one of a favoured class, few in number but great in importance. He belongs to the noble fellowship of the Berridges, the Grimshaws, the Whitefields, the Hills, and the Wilkses. Mr. Spurgeon has much in common with all these men, and sustains to the public of his time substantially the same relation as they did. In the name of justice, then, let Mr. Spurgeon have the benefit of their history. If despised, ridiculed, and calumniated by their contemporaries, men unworthy to live in the same age with them, they have had ample justice done them by succeeding generations, who have acknowledged their greatness, revered their virtues, and have acknowledged slowly, yet frankly, the signal, the unparalleled services they were honoured to render in their day and generation.

"Let it be remembered that none of the worthies above named had, at the same age, and during the first two years of their ministry, aught to show in the way of evangelical trophies to be compared with even the ascertained results of Mr. Spurgeon's ministry. Nay, it would be no violation of truth if it be affirmed that all of them united could not have presented, in the shape of ascertained conversions, so much fruit."

Quite apart from his preaching, it was a fact that the chapel at New Park Street was often quite crowded at a prayer-meeting; and the production of such a meeting and its sustentation was a striking evidence of the power of his ministry. The multiplication of such preachers would be the greatest blessing the country could receive. Then follow some comparisons between Spurgeon and such old-time preachers as Bunyan and Whitefield:—

"Since the days of Whitefield no man has excited so much attention in this metropolis as Mr. Spurgeon; and the result, as in a former age, has been great diversity of sentiment. In the daily press, The Morning Advertiser was the first to give a just, or, perhaps, a generous account of this extraordinary young man. "While with much discrimination it set forth his surpassing excellence in his own line, it was not silent upon his defects, but tendered such counsel as the case required in a spirit calculated to render it palatable. Another daily paper has recently favoured the public with an estimate of Mr. Spurgeon's capabilities, and a portraiture of his performances, displaying more capacity than charity, and a gift fitting rather for the criticism of the theatre than of the house of prayer. Such things, however, would seem, as in the case of Whitefield, only to help him onward. When Foote, of unhappy memory, wrote The Minor, bringing Whitefield on the stage in the character of Dr. Squintum—for the great orator was marked by that visual peculiarity—he did much further to excite public attention and confirm Whitefield's hold of the better section of society. Mr. Spurgeon has been the subject of discussion even in the American Press, where he has been most shamefully caricatured. He has made several appearances in Scotland, where he has been well received, and where a portion of its comparatively pure and upright Press has done him justice.

"All such opposition and misrepresentation only tend to further the popularity it is sought to check. It operates like air on the furnace, which would languish and die but for the action of the atmosphere. Mr. Spurgeon's popularity is a mystery, both in the Church and in the world. The enlightened but unreflecting onlookers in both are at an utter loss to account for it. They only seem attracted to his peculiarities, which, viewed through the medium of taste, are defects to be regretted, and, by others, to be shunned rather than imitated. The secret of his power with the masses consists, however, not in these, but in something hid from the mere vulgar eye. In his mighty effusions there is a substratum of Christian truth which he pours forth in an unbroken stream; or, rather, it may often be likened to a cataract bearing down everything before it, and subduing the largest assemblies. Mr. Spurgeon is no negative theologian. Whitefield, in this, as in other respects, had much in common with Spurgeon. The former had vastly more acting, so called, than the latter, and quite as much dry humour, by which congregations are ofttimes excited to laugh; but there was this peculiarity which distinguished him from Spurgeon, that they were as frequently melted into tears.

"Essences must not be confounded with accidents. The peculiarities which often distinguish great men have no necessary connection with the truth which they hold and propagate in common. A firm friend of Whitefield has left it on record that, whether he looked grave or gay, it was nature acting in him. His laugh was hearty, his weeping 'loud and passionate,' and, while his manner was natural, his language was simple—John Bunyan's English. It was, indeed, his boast that he used 'market language;' and, as to the looseness of his harangues, his defence was, 'You complain of my rambling; you ramble more than I do, and I must ramble after you.' Spurgeon, too, we repeat, is in everything a child of nature; he is everywhere at home. His air, his accent, whether he rebuke or woo the soul, all is natural; and his illustrations are generally such as, without wounding the taste of the multitudes, come home to their breasts. He is in sympathy with his audience and with mankind. A master of dialogue, he is not less master of powerful declamation—the two great things for which Whitefield himself was remarkable. What he spoke he felt. Everything found its way to the heart of the assembly. Whitefield's defects, such as they were, were mainly confined to his earlier career; and if it be remembered that he commenced at the age of twenty-one, much allowance is to be made for him. Why not then for Mr. Spurgeon, who had filled the land with his fame long before he had attained to his majority? We say, then, let Mr. Spurgeon have justice. He is working a great work, and let no man hinder him! No other living preacher can command the ear of the millions as he commands it; and we submit it is only fair to bid him God-speed. Time and circumstances will do much to perfect that which needs emendation." On the second day of January, 1857, Mr. Spurgeon's old friend, Richard Knill, died at Chester at the age of about seventy years. He had laboured in Chester since the opening of 1848, and under his pastorate the church had increased fourfold. He was in all respects a remarkable man, whose influence was very far-reaching; and his service through the Press was no less extraordinary than his preaching. Thus we find it stated that "No man ever had so many of his tracts circulated as Mr. Knill. Between six and seven millions of them have been printed in England; translated into ten different languages, they have been scattered over the whole world. In America more than seven millions have been printed, so that between the two countries more than fourteen millions have been put into circulation." He laboured on till the last with apostolic fervour. The heavy and continued strain of preaching at the Surrey Gardens, besides conducting special services during the week in different parts of the country, began to tell on the pastor's strength. While proceeding with his sermon in the Music Hall on Sunday morning, February 15, when, by the way, he had a bishop among his hearers, Mr. Spurgeon's voice failed, and he was compelled to conclude "somewhat abruptly," as the contemporary account tells us. The congregation appeared to be much concerned on account of the preacher's apparent suffering. In the ordinary course that sermon would have been No. 117 of the regular weekly issue, but it did not appear, and a discourse given at New Park Street some months before had to take its place. The visit to Birmingham early in the year 1857 was a notable occasion. The curiosity to hear the orator appears to have been very great, as he had never spoken in the town before. The first sermon, in the afternoon, was on the Name of Jesus; and that which followed in the evening was on the text, "To know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge." On the following day two services were held in Mount Zion Chapel, one discourse being on self-examination, while the other was on seven texts, "I have sinned," or the same that had been given in the Music Hall on January 18. Thus to visit a great town and conduct four exhausting services was a fair example of the way in which Mr. Spurgeon worked at this time. He laboured on in the most self-denying manner, all the while living in accord with the injunction which he had seemed to hear on Midsummer Common, "Seekest thou great things for thyself? Seek them not."