“It isn’t a church, sir; it’s a chapel. There’s a church,” he said, pointing to a still smaller edifice on the adjoining corner. “That’s where the lord mayor worships.” I learned then and there that only the Church of England has the right to the name of church for their places of worship (all others are chapels), and that there are no church bells or chimes except in the Established Church. I drove back through Oxford Street and Picadilly Circus to the Westminster Palace Hotel. On returning to my hotel I sat down and addressed the following letter to Mr. Spurgeon: * * * * * “WESTMINSTER PALACE HOTEL, June 3, 1879. “REV. C. H. SPURGEON, Nightingale Lane. “MY DEAR SIR: I am in London for the first time in my life and have set my eyes on the great Tabernacle, which was the first object of interest I wished to visit, as your name and your church have been almost a part of my life for a number of years, being a fellow-Baptist. “Inasmuch as you thought enough of a letter that I wrote you to publish it in one of your books, I write to ask if I could have the pleasure of an interview with you at your convenience. Meanwhile, if a note from you would facilitate my getting a comfortable seat to hear you next Sabbath, I would very much appreciate it. “I am, yours very truly, “J. B. POND.” * * * * * The next morning I received the following letter from Mr. Spurgeon: * * * * * “NIGHTINGALE LANE, BALHAM, SURREY, June 5, 1879. “DEAR SIR: It will only be a waste of time for you to see me, as I am not at all in your line, and I am happy to enclose your cards. “Yours truly, “C. H. SPURGEON.” “Major J. B. Pond, Westminster Palace Hotel.” * * * * * There were two printed admission tickets to the Tabernacle. When Sunday morning arrived, in company with a friend, I went early to the Tabernacle in hopes of getting a comfortable seat. There was a great throng on the steps, hundreds of people having already congregated there while waiting for the doors to open. I noticed near the church an open gate, through which people were passing to a side door. I tried to pass in, but was stopped by a large, somewhat plain spoken, typical Englishman, who told me that my tickets were good when the front doors were opened. I said, “Why can I not pass in here the same as others do?” “Oh, you can by dropping something in the box.” I then saw that people were dropping pieces of silver into the box and passing in. I said to him, “How much am I expected to drop in?” He replied, “Anything you please. A half crown is the usual amount.”