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 ^ A S E R M O N 
 
 I 
 
 PREACHED AT THE 
 
 DEDICATION OF A MEMORIAL WINDOW 
 
 ERECTED BY MEN EMPLOYED IN THE IRON AND STEEL WORKS 
 TO THE LATE 
 
 LORD FREDERICK CAVENDISH 
 
 AV ST. JAMESES CHURCH, BARROW-IN-FUKNESS 
 
 ON ST. ANDREW'S DAY, 1882 
 
 13 Y THE REV. 
 
 STEPHEN E. GLADSTONE, M.A. 
 
 RECTOR OF HAWARDEN 
 
 Printed by Request 
 
 RIVINGTONS 
 WATERLOO PLACE, LONDON 
 
 MDCCCLXXXIII 
 
 [Price T/ircepencc]
 
 A LIFE GIVEN FOR IRELAND, 
 
 " Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou likewise." — 
 St. Luke x. 37. 
 
 What a record of joys and sorrows is the 
 history of human life on earth ! As night 
 follows day, as sunshine breaks forth to dispel 
 the clouds, so is the heart of man wont to 
 feel the successive changes of the happiness 
 and the anxieties of life. Nay, even the 
 very heart which has been made bright with 
 joys knows at the selfsame moment "its own 
 bitterness." And how much deeper and 
 more piercing are the great sorrows of life 
 than its great joys. While one is rejoicing, 
 another is weeping. This very day we are 
 met together to try and glorify God for 
 events wholly diflfering in their character. 
 The three windows, unveiled this morning,
 
 4 TEE THREE MEMORIAL WINDOWS. 
 
 commemorate events, some of which were 
 the occasion of deep joy and thankfulness, 
 and others of the most heartrending grief. 
 How different the occasions ! a life spared, 
 and a life taken ; one life taken when not 
 far off the term of three-score years and ten ; 
 another life suddenly cut down by cruel 
 hands in the full visjour of manhood. So 
 different, and yet it is so happy a blending : 
 for whether our lot is one of joy or sorrow, 
 we are to take that joy or sorrow as equally 
 coming from the love of God. It is for His 
 glory and our good. He alone can bless it. 
 Apart from Him our truest earthly joy must 
 fade and die ; with Him to bless us, our 
 keenest sorrows, borne as best we can in 
 trust and patience, will but prepare us for 
 the perfect life. Such souls as these which 
 "sow in tears will reap in joy." May God 
 bless those hearts who have been moved to 
 mark their faith and love by the putting up 
 of these memorial windows. To His eternal 
 glory be they dedicated ; and for ourselves 
 
 O
 
 LESSON OF THE FESTIVAL. 5 
 
 let US not forget the events, the lives and 
 deaths which they commemorate. 
 
 Too often do we take God's great gifts, 
 and forget to thank Him : we turn to Him 
 perhaps in trouble, but we forget Him in 
 prosperity. Too often do we fail to profit 
 by the lessons of a noble life, sjDent for God 
 and for the souls God loves. Such heroes 
 are living amongst us if only we have eyes 
 to see and hearts to take notice : living; 
 miracles, set before us even in this day, and 
 in this country, in every rank and occupa- 
 tion, from the highest to the low^est — to teach 
 us that the grace of God is still with His 
 people, powerful to raise the natural man 
 into the spiritual man, to hallow and train 
 to their full growth and glory those powers 
 and instincts which sin had corrupted, and 
 which the world, the flesh, and the devil are 
 ever striving to degrade and to destroy. 
 
 I see a correspondence between the lesson 
 of this Festival of St. Andrew and the parable 
 of the Good Samaritan, and the life of which
 
 6 WORKING FOR OTHERS. 
 
 that window is commemorative. There is 
 the glorious life of self-sacrifice, of working 
 for the good of others, of doing one's duty 
 to one's neighbour however hard it may be : 
 — this lesson is contained in all three — can 
 I do better than ask you to consider it to- 
 night ? St. Andrew was the disciple who 
 was always bringing others to our Lord. 
 Oh, how blessed a mark of a true, brave heart, 
 stronsf itself in faith and love, and lono-inof 
 to draw others to know of the same pardon 
 and peace. Oh, brave manly hearts who 
 have met here to-nig^ht, strive hard to know 
 Jesus better yourselves, 'that you may do 
 somethincr to comfort and raise the multitude 
 
 o 
 
 of immortal souls that are around you. One 
 thing only is wanting, and that is a heart 
 that has by true prayer and penitence found 
 Him itself. A Christian worthy of the name 
 must be one like St. Andrew, who brings 
 others to Christ, and by quiet perseverance 
 and brave example shows other men the 
 Lord and Saviour they have found.
 
 THE GOOD SAMAEITAN. 7 
 
 And then, as for the Good Samaritan, 
 who is He ? Jesus Himself, the one perfect 
 life ; God, made Man for our sakes ; He who 
 was born for us, lived for us, suffered for us, 
 died for us, rose from the dead for us, 
 ascended for us, and even now is our High 
 Priest within the veil, praying for us, and 
 ever offerinof before the Father the oblation 
 of Himself as the ground and strength of all 
 the Church's prayers and blessings. Think 
 of that devoted life. We know it so well, 
 we hear it so often. Alas ! it touches us so 
 little. Its infinite pathos find our hearts so 
 shallow and cold. Could we suddenly realize 
 what it all was, could it rise up before our 
 mind's eye as a statue long gazed on coming 
 suddenly into life, oh, how it would thrill 
 us through and through, and send us back 
 to our daily lives with changed hearts, new 
 determinations to fight against sin, and that 
 strong love for Him which would enable us, 
 in our poor degree, to "Go and do likewise." 
 The sight of a picture of the crucifixion, or of
 
 8 THE LIFE OF PERFECT LOVE FOR MAN. 
 
 the Head of Jesus crowned witli tliorns, has 
 sometimes gone like a sword through some 
 heart careless and untouched till then. Alas, 
 l\o\v little the utter self-sacrifice of Jesus really 
 touches our hearts and inspires our lives ; and 
 yet no life is noble, no act is noble that is not 
 inspired by self-sacrifice. Nothing on earth 
 can move us much to what is good and pure 
 unless first we have been moved by the un- 
 dying love of our Saviour. Truly He did love 
 His enemies, even to the very end. He did 
 l)less them that persecuted Him. He spent 
 His whole life for His faithless creatures. 
 He died for those who despised, rejected, 
 cruelly tormented, and shamefully slew Him. 
 There is the sacrifice for our sins ; thence we 
 may have pardon and renewing grace. There 
 is also the great Pattern for us to go and 
 imitate. AVe must not only look at Christ 
 crucified to be healed, but to get strength to 
 live unselfishly, to live for others rather than 
 oui-selves, to make sacrifices of our own 
 comfort, convenience ; we must have our
 
 ONE WHO FOLLOWED IN THE WAY. 9 
 
 hearts warmed there with something of that 
 enthusiastic love for man. And when any 
 one is taken from our midst whose life has 
 been a humble following of the One Perfect 
 Life ; when after death we become, often for 
 the first time, aware of how noble, how pure, 
 how unselfish a life has been — then we shall 
 do well, as on the present occasion, to study 
 that life, to emulate its virtues, and to give 
 glory to God for its faithfulness. 
 
 You will expect me to speak to you more 
 particularly about this, looking to the occa- 
 sion and the place. You knew something 
 of his real worth — his simple goodness, his 
 unaffected, manly, dutiful spirit, and his 
 religious earnestness, none the less deep and 
 real because it was so quiet and without 
 show. Many of you were familiar with his 
 frank and open face, his kind and courteous 
 bearing. As Secretary to the Treasury his 
 fair and impartial mind was found to be 
 invaluo-ble where all sorts of knotty points 
 have to be referred and dealt with. All 
 
 A 5
 
 10 HIS CHARACTER. 
 
 this, with entire devotion to his work and 
 his great success in his official capacity, 
 endeared him with a brother's love to his 
 colleafrues, and not less was he loved and 
 respected by the permanent officials. It was 
 devotion to his duty, it was an ardent love 
 to do all he could for poor Ireland, that 
 when suddenly called to a post of singular 
 difficulty and real danger, made him ready 
 to sacrifice himself, his own wishes, tastes, 
 and comfort, w^herever it was thought by 
 those whom he trusted that he could do 
 good. To be successful as Irish Secretary at 
 that time was indeed a very unlikely thing 
 for any one. But not even his self-mistrust, 
 any more than his natural shrinking from 
 such a duty, made him hesitate. A spirit, 
 nobly proud, dreads failure more than death. 
 He knew he mis^ht fail : some said he 
 would. The papers, on the day he left his 
 home for Ireland, were full of all sorts of 
 criticisms, many of them idle. How little 
 <lid those writers know tlic wnv that was
 
 CALLED TO IRELAND. 11 
 
 before liim. He was destined in less than 
 one day's time to become, by the sacrifice of 
 his life-blood, one of the chief causes of the 
 gradual restoration of peace and order, at a 
 moment of great danger. To go there was 
 an act of real self-denial to him. At one 
 moment, when it was thought he would not 
 be required to go, he expressed his great 
 sense of relief. I believe he was quite aware 
 of the personal danger he incurred, though 
 he would not make anything of it for tho 
 sake of those he loved and trusted. Strais^ht 
 forward he went, when called to go ; and 
 what encourao-ed him amono^st other things 
 was his real ambition to help the Irish 
 people, and his ready s}Tiipathy with many 
 of their aspirations^ He had not lost con- 
 fidence in them ; he believed the heart of 
 Ireland was sound, though terrible symptoms- 
 of disease had appeared. 
 
 You know he left London on Friday 
 night. May 5th ; and on Saturday, the very 
 day he landed, with his heart full of doing
 
 12 SACRIFICE OF HIS LIFE, 
 
 good, anxious not to lose a single moment 
 even then, he set himself down to work, at 
 Dublin Castle, on some most important 
 points. It was this very eagerness to do 
 his duty that led to his desire for extending 
 his walk in the evening of that day which 
 proved his last. Ten or twelve hours after 
 landing, with only one desire in his heart, 
 to help a deeply suffering country, you know 
 how, unarmed, unprotected, he fell beneath 
 the murderous attack of a number of armed 
 men, together with his com]3anion, another 
 noble heart, also honoured and beloved by 
 all who knew him. Alas ! how often men 
 know not their best friends. Cowardly and 
 atrocious as was that attack beyond all 
 words, can we suppose it would have been 
 made if those men, bad and brutal as they 
 were, had known what was really in those 
 true hearts ? You may know that his life, 
 in all probability, according to evidence ob- 
 tained, was not aimed at; though this hardly 
 mitigates the ferocity of that crime which
 
 AT THE HANDS OF THOSE HE LOVED. 13 
 
 rang througliout the civilized world ; and, 
 alas ! it has to be added that in the worst 
 quarters of the city there was, at least at the 
 first, considerable rejoicing at his death. And 
 yet, could we look through the veil which 
 for a while separates us from eternity, who 
 can doubt that the same love of the people, 
 the same trust in their real soundness at 
 heart, whicli beat in his heart, when alive, 
 still is fillingr his soul after death ? Great 
 indeed was the outburst of deep indignation 
 throughout the country, and of course not 
 least in England — happily an indignation, a 
 horror held in check as usual by the English 
 self-restraint. And, thank God ! equally 
 great was the burning sense of shame and 
 horror in Irish hearts when they awoke to 
 what had been done. ]\Iany were the signs 
 of this widespread and deep grief. You may 
 remember, for example, the account of the 
 priest in County Galway, reading that most 
 touching letter of Lady Frederick Cavendish 
 to a weeping congregation.
 
 14 IKELAND BEFORE AND AFTER. 
 
 Though these two murders were not, in- 
 deed, worse than others, yet the surrounding 
 circumstances made them more terribly sad, 
 and they are said by those who best know 
 to have been the turning-point in the last 
 terrible history of crime and outrage. It 
 was, in fact, these deaths which woke up the 
 people from their apathy about crime. Since 
 that dreadful 6th of May it is a fact that 
 crimes of all sorts have steadily declined, both 
 in the number and in the quality of the acts. 
 And though every now and then we are 
 still startled by a new act of horror (as, alas ! 
 has been the case this very week), it is 
 reassuring to know that the country is re- 
 turning to a state of peace, and of greatly 
 increased prosperity. The return of agrarian 
 outrages was 531 for March last. For June 
 the number was reduced to 283, and in Sep- 
 tember to 1 3 1 (half of which were threaten- 
 ing letters). Looking at the matter from 
 another point of view, we find that last 
 September there were 59 actual oflfcnces
 
 REALLY HOPEFUL SIGNS. 15 
 
 against persons, property, and the public 
 peace, as against 225 twelve months before. 
 Further notice that in March last 587 men 
 were in prison merely on suspicion, whereas 
 now there are none. We were further told 
 the other day by the present Irish Secretary 
 that from the reports of those in authority 
 in the disturbed districts, it w^as certain 
 that the state of feeling from which crime 
 sprang is materially improving. These men, 
 who know the country well, all say that 
 the relations between landlord and tenant 
 are improved, that rents are being fairly 
 paid, and that intimidation is decreasing. 
 Mr. Davitt himself regretfully indicates by 
 his speeches that agitation is dying out 
 because the people of Ireland imagine they 
 have got justice by the Land and Arrears 
 Acts. 
 
 It w^as to help Ireland that he went ; and 
 now can we doubt for a moment that, in a 
 manner little expected, he has helped Ireland 
 in the most signal way ? His life has boon
 
 16 HIS HOME 
 
 sacrificed to the fierce hatreds which have 
 been the awful result of centuries of the 
 horribly wicked misrule of England. But 
 Irish hearts now know what he was ; and 
 the memory of that terrible deed must still 
 live to do something towards softening the 
 hardest hearts. The desolation of a happy 
 home, the awful blank left by his death, 
 the piteous character of all the circumstances, 
 all go to show how great a sacrifice it has 
 been. You know how all his unselfish 
 devotion to duty, all the risks which he so 
 cheerfully undertook, when asked to go, 
 were shared by his wife. His death has 
 darkened a bright life indeed, but you know 
 she has given him up freely to God in the 
 comfort alone of the thought that his death 
 was for the good of the country he wished 
 to serve. Oh, do not let us cease to pray for 
 her in her great sorrow, which in some ways 
 must become greater still by the lapse of 
 time. 
 
 Wonderful arc the ways of God ; we know
 
 AND COUNTRY. 17 
 
 not His mind. That death has deprived the 
 Queen and country of a faithful servant 
 indeed. It has removed from public life a 
 pure soul, single-hearted, and full of gentle- 
 ness, yet of inflexible principle, and full of 
 future promise. You may know, but I of 
 course know far better, what a terrible, an 
 irreparable, loss it has been to the chief 
 adviser of the Crown, on whose head there 
 has devolved such an enormous weight of 
 responsibility. The Prime Minister's appre- 
 ciation of him as a man, as a Christian, and 
 of his work, was always intense. To see him 
 was always a very real refreshment to his 
 mind. None could have been a truer friend 
 and wiser counsellor, though so much younger 
 in years. And you need not to be told that, 
 where a man has to bear such a great burden 
 on his shoulders, as the Prime Minister has, 
 a true-hearted, generous, wise sympathy, such 
 as he had invariably found in his younger 
 colleague, is a source of comfort and joy be- 
 yond what words can tell. It was a very
 
 18 HIS PUBLIC VIRTUES. 
 
 real grief to him when he felt it his duty for 
 the public good to ask Lord Frederick Caven- 
 dish to go to Ireland ; for it was like losing 
 a ric^ht hand. 
 
 But great as is his personal loss, the public 
 loss is far greater. The State can ill spare 
 such men — men who put principle first, 
 interest afterwards ; w^ho are known to be 
 inflexibly just ; who will neither give nor 
 take flattery ; men who by their thorough- 
 going honesty raise political questions out of 
 the low^ atmosphere into which they are too 
 often dragged into higher, purer air ; men 
 who take pains in forming their opinions and 
 have the courage to stand by them, however 
 unpopular they may at times chance to be ; 
 men with moral backbone, as well as good 
 intellect — such men in public life amongst 
 the rising generation can ill be spared, and 
 such a one was he. All this was felt, and 
 the feeling was made evident not only at the 
 striking scene of the solemn Christian funeral, 
 but in the House of Commons — the House
 
 HIS DEATH APPEALS TO BOTH COUNTRIES. 19 
 
 crowded, pale, silent, but most really and 
 deeply agitated, especially the Irish leader 
 and the Irish members. 
 
 How powerfully on such occasions is the 
 noble saying felt to be deeply true, " He 
 being dead, yet speaketh." That life, that 
 unselfish labour for others, that death, speaks, 
 and will speak to us and to all true patriotic 
 hearts. It speaks of that same love of others 
 which the beautiful window tells of in the 
 figure of the Good Samaritan ; the same 
 noble love which is greater than all other 
 love, which, when called on to go, goes into 
 difiiculty and danger, with the one ambition 
 of doing good — yes, that love which makes 
 a true man ready to lay down his own life 
 for his friends. Oh, Irish hearts, he died for 
 you, as well as by the hands of cruel men 
 amongst you. Oh, English hearts, he died 
 for the wicked tyranny, the awful selfishness, 
 the bloody cruelty of many of your fore- 
 fathers. Let both countries be conscience- 
 stricken with a common shame and sorrow ;
 
 20 A CALL TO EACH OF US, 
 
 and may God grant that so stricken, they 
 may be drawn nearer together, with mutual 
 forbearance, and patient considerateness : 
 and then that death will indeed not have 
 been in vain. 
 
 And for ourselves, let that life and death 
 do its work within us. These events are 
 allowed to happen to arouse us from our 
 sloth and sins, and to inspire us with high 
 thoughts of serving our God and our country. 
 " Go, and do thou likewise," is what this life 
 and death says to us. That window speaks 
 the same words. And we can, each of us, 
 in our way, make a true answer to this appeal. 
 There is not one of us who mio^ht not be 
 able to do, even where we are, great thinors 
 for our God and our country. Manfully to 
 do our work — whatever that work may be — 
 bravely to witness for Christ against every 
 form of vice — particularly to try and do 
 little deeds of kindness, of Christian neigh- 
 bourliness, to others — and to go on day 
 after day setting an example to those around
 
 "GO, AND DO THOU LIKEWISE." 21 
 
 US, in the thought of the great reward in 
 store for him who has lived unselfishly and 
 helped his brethren — all this is as much 
 open to the poor labourer as to the noble- 
 man ; yes, to the little child even, to the 
 sick and infirm, to the sad and sufifering. 
 For we are not our own : ourselves redeemed 
 by the blood of God in the flesh, we owe it 
 to Him to love and labour for those He died 
 to save. To live merely for our own enjoy- 
 ment, however free even of open sin we may 
 be, is an ignoble, a despicable life ; whereas 
 to minister to others' needs, to comfort the 
 sufferers, to help the falling and fallen, to 
 protect with true British chivalry the weaker 
 ones, to spend and be spent for these high 
 purposes, is the way to raise human nature 
 to those glorious heights of true and eternal 
 nobleness which, through Jesus Christ our 
 Saviour, now properly belong to it. Such 
 lessons of noble devotion let us try and learn, 
 every one of us. Otliers have learnt them ; 
 let us do the same.
 
 
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