The Celestial Company of Toplady, Ryland, and Gifford

By GARRETT WALDEN

In an 1852 edition of The Gospel Magazine, there is an interesting anecdote by a bookseller named Walter Row.[1] In it, he recollects a scene concerning his beloved friend Augustus Toplady (1740–1778), the evangelical polymath who is best known now as the author of the hymn “Rock of Ages, Cleft for Me.”

Toplady, near the end of his life, limped his way through a morning sermon, helped only by the Holy Spirit. As he concluded, he invited his auditory to return that evening to commune together at the Lord’s Table. However, in the room that day were two of Toplady’s closest friends, the Baptist ministers John Collett Ryland (1723–1792) and Andrew Gifford (1700–1784). Much could be told about Ryland and Gifford, but suffice it to say that what makes the anecdote remarkable is that Toplady, Ryland, and Gifford had a vision of kingdom of God that was uncharacteristically broad for their time.

Even while we rightly and unashamedly embrace our doctrinal distinctives as Baptists, Toplady’s sentiments were no impediment to fellowship for two stalwart Baptists like Ryland and Gifford. Perhaps, to whatever extent our consciences allow, we should ask, “Why not imitate the celestial company here, and have as much of heaven below before we arrive at that blissful abode?”

Below is a transcription of the anecdote.[2]

On Sunday evening, June 14, 1778, we heard Mr. Toplady, at Orange Street Chapel, deliver a short discourse, after his curate (Dr. Illingworth) had preached. His health then was rapidly declining, and his earthly tabernacle quite emaciated. It was a painful sight to behold him; for he could scarcely support himself in the pulpit, and his delivery was attended by a hectic cough and shortness of breathing. Nevertheless, the consolations of God to him were neither few nor small. He was full of faith and the Holy Ghost, and seemed, by the feelings he evinced, to be in the very suburbs of heaven, into which, a few weeks after, he entered. The portion of Scripture he addressed his auditory from were the words of the Apostle Peter, “Yea, and I think it meet, as long as I am in this tabernacle, to stir you up by putting you in remembrance; knowing that shortly I must put off this my tabernacle, even as our Lord Jesus Christ hath showed me.” It was a most memorable night, never to be forgotten; and is at this moment as lively in our recollection as it was fifty-seven years since. His unbounded confidence in the fulness of God, and his joy and rejoicing in Christ Jesus, we have no words to describe. He appeared more like an inhabitant from heaven, than a mortal man encumbered with sin and pain.

Our chief view in relating the above particulars is to notice an incident which took place at the time. The Lord’s Supper was [to] be administered that evening, as the chapel was occupied by the French Protestants always in the morning; the place of worship being only temporary. Mr. Toplady, in the close of his address, in reference to the ordinance, observed, that he perceived some of his elder brethren in the ministry, of another denomination, present. He invited them to come and join with him in commemorating the dying love of the Lord Jesus. He observed, “When we get to heaven, it will not be known to what particular fold we belonged here on earth. There will then be no mark of distinction; we shall mingle our voices together in the one united chorus of praise and thanksgiving. Then why not,” he said, “imitate the celestial company here, and have as much of heaven below before we arrive at that blissful abode?”

There were present at the time, Mr. John Ryland, of Northampton, and Dr. Gifford, Librarian to the British Museum, Baptist ministers, who accepted the invitation; the former standing, the other kneeling, participated of the symbols of the body and blood of Christ with their beloved friend and congregation. The sight to us was highly interesting, and pleasingly-gratifying; and more so now in recollection, when we are witnesses to the strife and contentions so generally prevalent in the professing Church of God; each party raising their pitiable mounds and narrow boundaries, in order to make a separation upon the mere outward circumstantials in religion. How congenial was the sight, with that noble, warm-hearted declaration made by this highly-honoured and much-beloved minister of Christ, whose worth can never be too highly appreciated, where he says, “Narrow as the way is that leadeth unto life, it is yet broad enough to admit persons of divided judgment in things indifferent; and shall I be so weak, or so malicious, as to suppose that a professing brother is not in the way to everlasting happiness, only because he does not walk arm-in-arm with me, and tread in my particular track?” Upon such a declaration, we say, “Let bigotry blush, and hide its diminutive head.”


[1] The Gospel Magazine; and Protestant Beacon (London: H. G. Collins, 1852), 117–18.

[2] Capitalization has been modernized.