ANNEX 
 
 fit 
 
 LIAM WHEWELL, D.D, 
 
 MASTER OF TRINITY <<OLLE<; !;, CAMBRIDGE, 
 
 A SERMON 
 
 PREACHED 
 
 THE COLL EC E CHAPEL, 
 
 ON Sl'MiAY, MARCH iStlt. .866. 
 
 .1. B. LIGHTFOOT, D.D. 
 
 fl.I.I-OW nt' TlilNJTV I'uU.KUl;. AMI 111. l,si;,\N 1')!' >! l-'.SSi Hi (IK MV1MTY. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY REQUEST. 
 
 <flmbrfocie anti Honbon: 
 
 MAOM.ILLAN AND CO. 
 
 1866. 
 
 Price One Shilling.
 
 n JjUmorg 
 
 WILLIAM WHEWELL, D.D. 
 
 MASTER OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE, 
 
 A SERMON 
 
 PREACHED IN 
 
 THE COLLEGE CHAPEL, 
 
 ON SUNDAY, MARCH i8th, 1866. 
 
 BY 
 
 J. B. LIGHTFOOT, D.D. 
 
 FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE, AND HULbEAN PROFESSOR Of DIVINITY. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY REQUEST. 
 
 antt 
 
 MACMILLAN AND CO. 
 1866.
 
 (JTambrt&ge: 
 
 PRINTED BY C. J. CLAY, M.A. 
 AT THE UNIVEK8ITY PEESS.
 
 THE delay in the publication of this Sermon needs 
 explanation. Having arranged to leave England im- 
 mediately after its delivery, I was unable to see it 
 through the press before my departure. On my return 
 it has been placed in the printers hands with as little 
 toss of time as possible. 
 
 J. B. L. 
 
 2097602
 
 TO 
 
 THE MASTER, FELLOWS, AND SCHOLARS 
 OF TRINITY COLLEGE, 
 
 IS BESPECTFULLY DEDICATED.
 
 A SEEMON, 
 
 1 CORINTHIANS XV. 32. 
 
 If after the manner of men I have fought with beasts at 
 Ephesus, what advantageth it me ? If the dead rise 
 not, Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die. 
 
 IN an earlier passage of this Epistle St Paul 
 compares the career of the Apostles to a scene 
 in a Roman amphitheatre. He imagines a vast 
 concourse brought together from all ages and 
 climes; Greek and Barbarian, Roman and Jew, 
 the living and the dead, dwellers on earth and 
 denizens of heaven, the whole universe of sen- 
 tient beings, assembled in one countless multi- 
 tude to witness the spectacle prepared for them. 
 Tier beyond tier, they stretch away into the far 
 distance, till the eye loses itself in the dizzy 
 indistinguishable throng, fading at length into a 
 faint haze, a quivering glow, of sentient life. 
 And while they thus broaden out in wedge-like 
 masses into the infinitude of space and time, 
 every face and every eye of this vast multitude 
 is concentrated on the lists below. There at the
 
 8 
 
 command of the Omnipotent King, who pre- 
 sides over the spectacle, drawn forth from the 
 obscurity of the dark prisons where they have 
 been reserved until the given signal, and ex- 
 posed to the curious gaze of these thronging 
 myriads, the Apostles come forward to do His 
 behest. Chained to the car of Christ, they had 
 swollen the train which attended the victor's 
 triumphant progress ] : and now they are con- 
 demned to the fate of the vanquished and en- 
 slaved. Patriarchs and prophets, priests and 
 kings, have fought in this same arena. But 
 the interest of the combat is intensified, the 
 spectacle has reached its climax, as they the 
 Apostles last step forth, naked and defenceless, 
 at the Almighty President's word, to do battle 
 with the well-trained and well-armed gladiators 
 of the world, or to grapple with the fierce mon- 
 sters of ignorance and sin. Then indeed this 
 vast amphitheatre is instinct with eager expecta- 
 tion : the eyes of all are bent down on the im- 
 pending struggle ; some with a savage thirst for 
 blood, some with the scorn of an impartial 
 curiosity, some with tender pitiful sympathy. 
 It is a fearful ordeal; to fight against such 
 antagonists, to fight thus unarmed, to fight 
 under the scorching gaze of this multitudinous 
 throng. 
 
 So may we venture to draw out the image 
 
 1 2 Cor. ii. 1416 ; Ephes. iv. 8.
 
 contained in the Apostle's words, ' I think God 
 hath set forth us the Apostles last, as men con- 
 demned to death; for we are made a spectacle 
 unto the world, both to angels and to men.' 
 Nor condemned as common captives or common 
 criminals only, but as the lowest refuse of hu- 
 manity, the scapegoats of their race and time, 
 too vile to live, fit only for the cruel sports of 
 the arena, if by chance the wrath of the offended 
 powers might be appeased by their destruction; 
 1 We are made as the filth of the world, as the 
 offscouring of all things 1 .' 
 
 Once again, in the words which I have 
 chosen for my text, the Apostle returns to this 
 striking similitude. As he argues against those 
 who doubted or denied the immortality of man, 
 the resurrection from the dead, he appeals to 
 this great moral spectacle, as the witness of the 
 human conscience to something more real and 
 more enduring than earthly pleasures or pains. 
 ' Why stand we in jeopardy every hour ?' Is it 
 conceivable that a man should be willing to die 
 daily; to give up all that makes life enjoyable 
 and to be ready to give up life itself; to contend 
 in this arena of a profligate Asiatic capital, a 
 focus and stronghold of heathendom; to stake 
 his life on the issue of an unequal struggle with 
 the savage monsters let loose upon him, with 
 the concentrated force of an ancient and popular 
 1 1 Cor. iv. 9, 13. 
 
 15
 
 10 
 
 superstition, with the selfish zeal of a wealthy 
 and powerful craft, with the ignorant fury of an 
 excited mob ; unless he looked through the near 
 considerations of earthly loss and gain, and saw 
 the heavens opening beyond. Why else should 
 he adopt a course so foolish and suicidal? 'If 
 after the manner of men/ if regarding only 
 transient mundane interests, 'I fought with 
 beasts at Ephesus, what advantageth it me V 
 If this world be all, if heaven be a shadow and 
 hell a fable, then a sane man cannot hesitate for 
 a moment : ' If the dead rise not, let us eat and 
 drink, for to-morrow we die/ 
 
 It is a sublime conception, this amphitheatre 
 of the universe contemplating the struggles and 
 sufferings of a handful of feeble persecuted out- 
 casts. It would be a bold hyperbole, if the 
 crisis had been less critical, the issues less im- 
 portant. But if, as we believe, this was the 
 turning-point of the world's history, if Christ 
 indeed came down from heaven to bring life 
 and immortality to light, if to the Apostles was 
 entrusted the greatest work which has ever 
 taxed the courage and the energies of man, 
 then the occasion cannot be held at all unworthy 
 of the image. 
 
 But though the work of the Apostles was 
 so far an exceptional work, though the image 
 thus appropriate could not be applied without 
 exaggeration to any less signal contest, yet it may
 
 11 
 
 be taken in some measure to describe the career 
 of the benefactors of mankind, the servants of 
 God, in all ages. The concourse is still assem- 
 
 o 
 
 bled; the lists are still open. The same fight 
 must be fought; the same antagonists van- 
 quished. And according as the crisis grows in 
 importance, as the strain on the individual com- 
 batant increases, as the antagonism gathers 
 strength and fury, as through obloquy and con- 
 tempt and persecution the heroic champion of 
 God fights his way to the right and to the 
 truth, just so far may it be said of him, that 
 like the Apostles of old he has been ' set forth 
 as one condemned to death;' has been 'made 
 a spectacle to the world, both to angels and to 
 men.' 
 
 But from this vast bewildering concourse of 
 earth and heaven, let us turn to the little am- 
 phitheatre which immediately surrounds us, and 
 concentrate our thoughts on the narrow lists 
 in which we ourselves are 'set forth' to slay or 
 be slain. Even within these limits the assem- 
 blage of spectators is sufficiently large and au- 
 gust to awe and stimulate us. A history of 
 more than three centuries gazes down upon 
 our arena. A gathering of great men, such 
 as probably no other College can show within 
 the same period historians, poets, statesmen, 
 scholars, divines, interpreters of law, investiga- 
 tors of truth, preachers of righteousness a
 
 12 
 
 long line of spiritual and intellectual ancestry 
 witnesses our combats. This may be a matter 
 of honest pride and congratulation; or it may 
 be our deepest humiliation, our darkest reproach. 
 Their name, their lustre, their example, are our 
 inheritance; to drag in the dust, or to crown 
 with fresh glory. In the presence of this silent 
 concourse of the past we are called forth by 
 God to do battle for Him. 
 
 One honoured name has been recently with- 
 drawn from the lists of the combatants and 
 added to the ranks of the spectators. Our 
 grand old Master our pride and strength 
 has passed from us to them. It is very hard 
 to realize the change. His vacant stall, our 
 mourning badges, speak to us in vain. We 
 can think of him only as we saw him, not so 
 very many days ago, still buoyant and vigorous 
 and full of life ; ' his eye not dim, nor his natu- 
 ral force abated ;' his step still firm and his car- 
 riage erect as ever. All, who observed him of 
 late, rejoiced to see that the shadow which had 
 darkened the last year of his life was passing 
 off. Old studies thrown aside were taken up 
 again. Old interests blunted by sorrow were 
 recovering their keen edge once more. Time 
 seemed only to have mellowed and ripened his 
 character, without decaying his faculties. The 
 screen, which long had hidden his large capacity
 
 13 
 
 of affection and strong yearning for sympathy, 
 known to a few and suspected by many more, 
 was falling away. And he ; whom all admired 
 and respected, was becoming every day better 
 known and more endeared to all. 
 
 By all members of this College far and wide, 
 even by those to whom he was personally un- 
 known, his death will be felt as a personal loss. 
 To us here it has left a sense of vacancy, which 
 before it occurred we could hardly have ima- 
 gined. So many various interests were linked 
 with his name. So many cherished associations 
 are buried in his grave. His removal seems like 
 a great severance from the past. 
 
 Even if he had not risen to any special 
 eminence, still by his unbroken residence of 
 more than fifty years in the College, and by his 
 high position as ruler of our little common- 
 wealth, he would have been so intimately asso- 
 ciated with the every day thoughts and acts, 
 would have occupied so large a space in our 
 memory, that his death must have been deeply 
 felt. But he was recognized by all as no 
 common man. If we are inclined to distrust 
 our own estimate, as the partial expression of 
 College pride, in this instance at least the 
 appeal to a larger public will not reverse our 
 verdict. In his published works he has covered 
 a wider field than any living writer ; and those, 
 who have conversed with him in private, record
 
 14 
 
 with wonder his familiar acquaintance with the 
 farthest outlying regions of knowledge in its 
 lower as well as in its higher forms. What 
 value will be attached by after-ages to his 
 various literary and scientific works, it would be 
 vain to predict ; but this at least we may say, 
 that in his own generation and country he has 
 held the foremost rank, if not in precision, at 
 least in range and vigour of intellect. 
 
 And these great powers he consecrated al- 
 ways to the highest ends. He is ever a reli- 
 gious teacher in the truest sense. One strain 
 runs through all his works ; one cord threads 
 together his earlier and later writings ; the days 
 of his literary life are ' bound each to each by 
 natural piety.' The world of matter without, 
 the world of thought within, alike speak to him 
 of the Eternal Creator, the Beneficent Father. 
 These are the strophe and antistrophe of the 
 sublime chorus of Nature ; the two witnesses 
 who prophesy before the throne of the God of 
 Revelation. If with the Psalmist he tells how 
 ' The heavens declare the glory of God and the 
 firmament showeth His handywork/ with the 
 Psalmist also he passes on from the outward 
 witness of creation to the inward witness of the 
 heart, ' The law of the Lord is an undefiled law 
 converting the soul, the testimony of the Lord 
 is sure and giveth wisdom to the simple 1 .' The 
 1 Ps. xix. 1, 7.
 
 15 
 
 evidences of Natural Theology formed the sub- 
 ject of his earliest writing by which he became 
 widely known, his Bridgewater Treatise. And 
 this same chord he struck in his last sermon 
 preached in this Chapel not many days before 
 his fatal accident ; when choosing a theme 
 strangely prophetic, as it seems now, of his 
 approaching death, and speaking of Him 'who 
 is the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and 
 the ending/ he passed on from the creation of 
 the world to its dissolution ; and in words of 
 striking force thus painted the great and final 
 crisis ; ' No mountains sinking under the decre- 
 pitude of years or weary rivers ceasing to rejoice 
 in their courses' ; 'No placid euthanasia silently 
 leading on the dissolution of the natural world.' 
 ' But the trumpet shall sound ; the struggle 
 shall come. This goodly frame of things shall 
 expire amid the throes and agonies of some 
 fierce and sudden catastrophe. And the same 
 arm that plucked the elements from the dark 
 and troubled slumbers of their chaos shall cast 
 them into their tomb 1 .' 
 
 On such subjects he wrote often : sometimes 
 with startling boldness, but always with deep 
 reverence. Indeed his tone seems to rise in so- 
 lemnity, as his speculations grow more daring; 
 for what nobler passage can be shown in poet 
 
 1 From a Sermon preached on Quinquagesima Sunday, 
 Feb. llth, upon the text Rev. i. 8.
 
 16 
 
 or philosopher or divine, than the majestic lan- 
 guage in which, speaking of the 'waste* of Crea- 
 tion, he suggests that the other bodies of the 
 universe are ' rolled into forms of symmetry and 
 order, into masses of light and splendour, by the 
 vast whirl which the original creative energy 
 imparted to the luminous elements out of which 
 they were formed;' and describes the planets 
 and stars as ' the lamps which have flown from 
 the potter's wheel of the Great Worker; the 
 shred-coils which in the working sprang from 
 His mighty lathe; the sparks which darted 
 from His awful anvil when the solar system lay 
 incandescent thereon ; the curls of vapour which 
 rose from the great cauldron of Creation when 
 its elements were separated 1 .' 
 
 But while the world without will judge 
 him only by his writings, on our gratitude he 
 has other and stronger claims. During the last 
 quarter of a century, in which he has ruled over 
 us, the College has enjoyed almost unexampled 
 prosperity. How far this is due to the great- 
 ness of his name and the generosity of his ad- 
 ministration, it would not be easy to decide. 
 But after making all allowance for the fond par- 
 tiality of a recent regret, we may fairly say that 
 as a Master of the College he stands out pre- 
 eminent in the long list of three centuries; as a 
 man of letters, greatest of all since Bentley; as 
 1 Plurality of Worlds, pp. 365, 366.
 
 17 
 
 a munificent and patriotic ruler, greatest of all 
 since Nevile ; but, as uniting in himself many 
 and various qualifications which combined go 
 far towards realizing the ideal head of a re- 
 ligious and learned foundation, the just repre- 
 sentative of a famous academic body, greater 
 than these or any of his predecessors. Vast and 
 varied mental powers, untiring energy and ex- 
 tensive knowledge, integrity of character and 
 strictness of example, a wide and generous mu- 
 nificence, a keen interest in University pro- 
 gress, an intense devotion to his own College, 
 a strong sense of duty, a true largeness of heart, 
 a simple Christian faith; the union of these 
 qualities fairly entitles him to the foremost place 
 among the Masters of Trinity. 
 
 For he was most truly our own ; our own by 
 long residence, our own in all his feelings and 
 interests, our own in his passionate love for the 
 place. He has been heard to say that the sky 
 always seemed to him brighter, when framed 
 by the walls and turrets of our Great Court; 
 and in his dying hours he desired to have the 
 blinds raised, that he might look once more on 
 this familiar scene, so fair and pleasant to his 
 eyes. This touching incident of his last illness 
 is typical of his whole life. All the currents of 
 his being seemed to set towards this one chan- 
 nel. He delighted to connect the incidents of his 
 domestic life with the College. He inspired his
 
 18 
 
 private friends with his own enthusiasm for the 
 College. He was very proud of Trinity, and 
 Trinity was very proud of him. 
 
 Our own always ; not in his triumphs only, 
 but in his sorrows also. I cannot forget I do 
 not think that any one who saw him can forget 
 how on this same Sunday a year ago, in the 
 earliest hours of loneliness, in the first flush of 
 grief, he appeared in this Chapel to join his 
 prayers with ours, rightly judging this the fittest 
 place for the weary and heavy-laden, not shrink- 
 ing from us as from strangers, nor fearing to 
 commit to our sympathies the saddest of all sad 
 sights, an old 'man's bereavement and a strong 
 man's tears. 
 
 I have spoken of his College feeling ; but 
 College feeling with him was not a proud isola- 
 tion, a repulsive narrowness. If he represented 
 the College, he represented the University not 
 less truly. His College was to him only the 
 centre and focus from which his interest radiated. 
 As in his last princely bequest to the Univer- 
 sity 1 , so in all the acts of his academic life, he 
 regarded Trinity College as holding a great trust 
 for the benefit of that larger body of which it 
 forms a part, from which it derives strength, 
 and to which it communicates strength in turn. 
 
 He has gone from us, leaving as a legacy his 
 name and his munificence. He has bequeathed 
 1 See Note A.
 
 19 
 
 to us also his bright example. His race is run : 
 his torch has passed into our hands full burning ; 
 to keep ablaze or to quench, as we will. In in- 
 tellectual eminence we cannot follow him. But 
 the moral qualities, which clustered about his 
 mental power, may be imitated even by the 
 least gifted among us. The unflagging energy 
 which overcame all disadvantages, the manly 
 courage which ever disdained unworthy ap- 
 plause, the simple faith in God through Christ 
 which in him was thrown into stronger relief by 
 his large acquaintance with all branches of 
 human knowledge ; such qualities as these are 
 not beyond the reach of any. His example 
 supplies a fresh incentive, as it imposes a fresh 
 responsibility. 
 
 The Master's death occupies the first place 
 in our thoughts. But this is not the only loss 
 we have sustained during the last fortnight. 
 While we were committing his remains to their 
 final resting-place, an older contemporary a 
 gentle and loving spirit was passing silently 
 away. He too, though unknown to most of us, 
 had spent the best part of his life in this place, 
 and devoted his freshest energies to the College. 
 He was a scholar, as those bear witness who 
 heard him here, ' a ripe and good one ;' but he 
 was very much more than a scholar. As a 
 Tutor of this busy College, and as a parish cler-
 
 20 
 
 gyman in his quiet northern home, he was one 
 and unchanged ; the same pure, single-hearted, 
 blameless man, humble and childlike, loving 
 and loved by all. His words were the counter- 
 part of his deeds ; his books the reflexion of his 
 life. In the Rectory of Valehead and the Bishop- 
 ric of Souls was traced the unconscious portrait 
 of the Vicar of Heversham 1 . 
 
 As each successive combatant is withdrawn 
 from the lists, as we lay first one and then 
 another in an honoured grave, the question will 
 rise in our hearts, 'To what end are these well- 
 fought battles, these hardly-won victories?' If 
 true life is, as not only the Christian Apostle 
 but even the Stoic philosopher 2 called it, a war- 
 fare ; if men praise and honour most after death 
 those who in their lifetime grappled with diffi- 
 culties, conquered unruly passions in themselves, 
 subdued ignorance and vice in others, faced 
 misunderstanding or endured persecution ; if we 
 strive by their example to nerve ourselves for 
 the same arena in which they have fought be- 
 fore ; should we, or rather can we, refrain from 
 asking for them and for ourselves, 'What ad- 
 vantageth it ?' 
 
 To this question the Apostle saw one answer 
 only. It is difficult to conceive any other. If 
 
 1 See note B. 
 2 Seneca, Epist. 96, ' vivere railitare est'.
 
 21 
 
 the dead rise not, then these unselfish struggles, 
 these lifelong labours, are mere vanity; then 
 the world's chief benefactors are its greatest 
 losers. It is folly to forego present advantage, 
 to incur present reproach, to sacrifice this life, 
 if there is no life beyond the grave. Then it 
 were better, like those reckless citizens of Judah, 
 who in the presence of a dangerous foe gave 
 themselves up to feasting and revelry, to live 
 only for the moment and cast no thought be- 
 yond ; then the motto adopted by them and 
 by pleasure-seekers in every age is after all 
 the golden rule of life ; * Let us eat and drink ; 
 for to-morrow we die 1 .' 
 
 For, though we stifle the voice, it will still 
 make itself heard. Humanity cannot be thus 
 forcibly repressed. A religion or a philosophy, 
 which neglects this elemental instinct of our 
 nature, which holds out no rewards, stands self- 
 condemned. It is an irresistible impulse which 
 leads to the question, ' What advantageth it ?' 
 which suggests the train of thought, 'Why 
 stand I in jeopardy every hour?' 
 
 And yet a voice equally clear proclaims in 
 still more commanding tones, that self-denial is 
 better than self-indulgence ; that it is noble and 
 good to devote ourselves to the advancement 
 of truth and to works of love; that it is no- 
 blest and best of alt to pursue this course in 
 
 1 Is. xxii. 13 quoted by St Paul in the text.
 
 22 
 
 the teeth of opposition and obloquy, ' enduring 
 the cross and despising the shame/ reaping no 
 reward on this side the grave. We cannot call 
 such men fools; we respect and admire them; 
 we desire to be like them; we envy their cour- 
 age, their perseverance, their lofty self-devo- 
 tion. 
 
 The resurrection of the dead, the life to 
 come, is the only solution of the perplexity, the 
 sole harmonizer of these two conflicting voices. 
 And accordingly, as the human race progressed 
 in culture, as the moral faculties were more 
 fully developed, the doctrine of man's immor- 
 tality became more and more prominent. 
 
 Yet still it remained a speculative opinion, 
 a vague yearning, a shadowy hope. At length 
 the signal was vouchsafed. The Son of Man 
 rose from the grave. The doubtful hypo- 
 thesis became an accredited fact, the settled 
 belief of distant nations, the entailed inherit- 
 ance of successive ages. To the perplexing 
 question, ' What advantageth it ?' a full and 
 final answer was given, ' Now is Christ risen 
 from the dead, and become the first-fruits of 
 them that slept.' 
 
 With this assurance he, whom we mourn to- 
 day, lived and laboured and died. With this 
 assurance we laid him in his grave, looking for- 
 ward to a joyful resurrection. With this assur- 
 ance let us all young and old now devote
 
 23 
 
 ourselves anew to the service of God in Christ, 
 recalling our baptismal pledges and resolving, 
 as far as in us lies, to make this College a 
 Holy Temple of His Spirit in all sound learn- 
 ing and all godly living.
 
 NOTES. 
 
 A. This refers to a provision of the late Master's 
 will, whereby property (of which the estimated value 
 is between 60,000 and 70,000), consisting of the 
 site and buildings opposite Trinity College together 
 with all the residuary personalty, is conveyed in trust 
 to the College, for the purpose of providing accommo- 
 dation for its members, and of founding and endowing 
 a Professorship and Studentships of International Law 
 in the University. 
 
 B. Robert Wilson Evans, B.D., formerly Fellow 
 and Tutor of Trinity, and sometime Archdeacon of 
 Westmoreland, died on Saturday morning, March 10th 
 (the day of the Master's funeral), aged 76. At the 
 time of his death he held the vicarage of Heversham, 
 in the gift of Trinity College, to which living he was 
 instituted in 1842. 
 
 OAMBRIDGK: i'Ki.\;Ku .vi THK UNIVKKSITY PRESS.