Short Sermon.

TO BE WIDELY MOURNED YOU MUST BE MISSED.

BY THE REV. SIR LOVELACE T. STAMER, BART., RECTOR OF STOKE-ON-TRENT,

Acts, viii. 2.-'And devout men carried Stephen to his burial, and made great lamentation over him.'

HERE are occasions on which the unbought, unsolicited, perfectly spontaneous manifestation of feeling around the grave of a departed Christian, shows unmistakably what the character of his life has been; what an influenceup to that day unsuspected in its extent - he has been exercising; how by deeds and looks of love, and by words spoken in due season, he has been stealing the hearts of those amongst whom he has lived; how much therefore his death is felt to be a real loss; what a gap, to be hardly filled up, his removal out of the world has caused.

Of this sort was the burial of St. Stephen, which the inspired Historian of the Early Church has recorded in the short verse which is our text.

Let us consider, and trace to its true cause, this grief of good men, as they bore St. Stephen's body to the grave, and took their last sad look of him.

Was it, think you, due only to this, that he had shown himself a fearless witness for the truth-that he had sealed this witness with his life-that he had suffered unflinchingly a most cruel death,—that he had been the first to win a Christian Martyr's Crown? If we can suppose it possible that a man, whose end was such, had no other claim to veneration upon his fellows than this, I think he might have been honoured, he might have been admired, he might even have been by some regretted; but never would 'devout men' have taken such affectionate care for his remains, and have mourned for him with such genuine sorrow, 'making (as it is said) great lamentation over him.'

My brethren, take this for a certain truth; for a man to be sincerely mourned in death, he must have done that which has made him beloved in life. And Stephen could have been no exception to this rule.

Very little, indeed, is recorded of him previous to the time when he was chosen to be one of the Seven Deacons ; nevertheless, from that little, we may infer, with tolerable certainty, what sort of man he had been. The very circumstances out of which this new Order in the Church arose, and the special duty to be discharged, are sufficient to show what was the character of him who seemed to the whole body of the disciples, before all other candidates, the best qualified for it. Remember that there had been a 'murmuring' on the part of the Grecians, (that is, on the part of those disciples who, though Hebrews or Jews by descent, had been born out of Judæa, and spoke the Greek language) against their brethren, who by descent, and by birthplace, and by language, were Hebrews, because of some neglect, real or supposed, of the poor widows of their portion of the body in the daily distribution of the Church's Alms. Their complaint was laid before the Apostles; and they, feeling themselves unable to give up their own ministry of souls in order to care for the temporal concerns of the poor,

recommended the appointment of 'seven men of honest report, full of the Holy Ghost and wisdom,' to undertake the charge of this business, and to remedy the grievance of which the Grecians complained.

It is clear, I think, that in order to be chosen for such an office, requiring, as it did, in no common degree, powers of conciliation, gentleness of speech, a wise discretion, an integrity above suspicion-a man must have given evidence beforehand of possessing these qualities.

And Stephen seems, by universal consent, to have been second to none in fitness for this responsible office.

Gentle, patient, forgiving, yet bold and fearless in support of the truth-all this we know he was: a truly loveable character; 'full of faith'- which is the secret spring of all noble and loving deeds—' and of the Holy Ghost.'

Therefore, we are not surprised to find that he should be first chosen to fulfil a Ministry, which, if of a lower order than the Apostleship, must have needed a large measure of wisdom and love for its due discharge; and we can well imagine that in the short time that he was spared to exercise it, he would rise in the estimation of his fellowbelievers, and, in a higher station, and with greater opportunities, would gain still more of their confidence and love.

The loss of such a man, come when and how it would, all must feel. And, therefore, when, in the fierce persecution which followed, he fell a victim to the cruel hatred of the Jews; disregarding all personal risk, 'devout men' were forward to show their affection for him. ing hands they raised up his lifeless body from among the stones which With lovhad bruised it; and carrying it forth, they buried it, and (as we are expressly told,) 'made great lamentation over it.'

The scene around the death-bed of Dorcas, recorded in Acts, ix., is another instance of what I am contending formourned, to be really sorrowed over, when we die, we must have so that to be widely lived as to be missed. selves alone. When St. Peter went into the chamber of death, the poor We must have lived for others, and not for ourwidows, gathered around the corpse of their benefactress, 'weeping and showing the garments which Dorcas had made whilst she was with them,' told, far more eloquently than any words could have done, what had been the character of her life. Whether she was rich or not, we do not know: probably not: but certainly she had done a great deal of good. St. Luke says of her, that she was full of good works, and alms-deeds which she did.' clothes for the poor widows of Joppa, where she lived. Among other things, she used to make her life was to be kind, and charitable, and active, and self-denying. The rule of It was impossible that such a friend should not be missed when she died and the genuine sorrow of those who had been the objects of her loving care, proved how great they felt their loss to be.

Another instance of the same thing I will give you, not taken from the pages of Sacred History, but from a narrative of modern life. The saintly Fletcher, of Madeley, in Shropshire, was a friend of John Wesley. Of him Mr. Wesley says, 'Many exemplary men have I known, holy in heart and life, within fourscore years: but one equal to him I have not known; one so inwardly and outwardly devoted to God, so unblamable a character in every respect, I have not found. Nor do I expect to find another such on this side of eternity.'

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Short Sermon.

And his flock at Madeley regarded him with the like veneration and affection. On the day on which he died (a Sunday) 'a supplicatory Hymn for his recovery was sung in the Church; and one who was present says, it is impossible to convey an idea of the burst of sorrow that accompanied it. The whole village wore an air of consternation and sadness. Hasty messengers were passing to and fro, with anxious inquiries and confused reports; and the members of every family sat together in silence that day, awaiting with trembling expectation the issue of every hour.'*

Now, all this anxiety, all this great sorrow, were evidences, the most unquestionable, of the character of Mr. Fletcher's labours at Madeley. Not handling the word of God deceitfully, but by manifestation of the truth,' both by life and doctrine, he had 'commended' himself 'to every man's conscience in the sight of God;' and whether men hearkened or not, they esteemed him very highly in love for his works' sake.'

Yet one more illustration of what I mean I will give you; and this time it shall be in the special field of woman's work.

I allude to her who for three years superintended the Nursing department of the great Workhouse Infirmary at Liverpool. †

Of gentle birth, refined, sensitive, highly educated, she felt that she did not possess these advantages for herself alone. Her heart yearned to use them for God, and for the good of her fellows; and what work is there more noble, more suitable to a woman, than that which suggested itself to her, the nursing of the sick? To qualify herself for this, she submitted to a long and trying course of training. When this was complete, she offered herself to the Guardians of the Poor in the Parisi of Liverpool to superintend and manage the nursing of their Workhouse Infirmary. Her services were accepted; and in less than three years, by exemplary patience, and dauntless courage, by the exercise of a rare judgment, above all, by the manifestation of the life that was in her, a life intent on doing her Father's business,' she succeeded in changing the whole character of that Institution. What she went through in her daily, hourly contact with the lowest depths of human vice and misery, in her endeavour to bind up the wounds, to heal the broken hearts, to bring release to the captives, scarce one but God knows. She over-tasked her strength, and fell in the discharge of her duty at her post. Her body was taken back to her own people, to be buried in her father's vault. Years of previous labour among them had not been forgotten. And so we are told, that 'all the old folk went out to meet her-old men and women of near ninety years of age, who could scarcely move on crutches. Then young men who had been her own Scholars in her big boys' Evening Class, went a distance to meet the funeral, and carried the coffin themselves. The grave was surrounded first by rows of School Children-behind them, on one side, the young women, on the other, the young men of her Bible Classes; and behind these again, the elder women and men with whom she had read and prayed. After all was over the School Children and Mistresses sent a message to her poor sick paupers, that they would be glad to hear that their kind friend had been as gently laid in her grave as an infant laid to rest in its mother's arms.'

*Southey's Life of Wesley,' vol. ii. p. 283.

+ Miss Jones.

But, alas! of those whom we are called to lay in their graves, how few are there whose deaths affect any beyond their own immediate families! How few are there concerning whom any large number of people can say, 'We have lost a friend.'

It is sad to think how many they are who lead such lives that no loss is experienced out of the narrow circle of their own kindred, when death calls them away. Whereas if they had been earnest workers for God, as every Christian (whether rich or poor) ought to be, then their loss would have been felt. Genuine, unbought signs of woe would have accompanied their funerals. 'Devout' men and women would have stood around their grave, and 'made great lamentation over them.' How comes it that so few comparatively, especially of those who have leisure and ability for the purpose, take any pains to live in such a way as to be missed when they die? Oh! think over what it must

be,-after all that our dear Saviour has done for us, and said to us,to come to die with the reflection that we have done no real good to any; that our life has been a selfish and an useless one; that we can think of no mourner comforted, of no poor relieved, of no sick visited, of no ignorant instructed, of no tempted warned, of no faint-hearted encouraged, of none helped forward in their spiritual course. These are not duties that can be compounded for. cannot be accepted in commutation of personal service. Depend upon Gifts of money it there must be work for God as the exponent of Christian life. True Christian life must, and will, have its out-come in Christian work for others. And in proportion as it works for others, it will itself be strengthened and confirmed. Yea, on every service done faithfully to God's Church, there ever rests the blessing pledged in these words, They shall prosper that love Thee.'

As Sunday School Teachers, as District Visitors, as Readers, Lecturers, and Conductors of Services in Mission Rooms, as Collectors of funds for the spread of Christ's Church throughout the world, and in various other ways, how vast is the field that is before the lay-members of the Church, both male and female!

Dear Reader, suffer me to suggest to you, as flowing from the line of thought we have been pursuing, such questions as these; Were I to die now should I be missed-missed by any besides my own immediate relations and friends? Would single human being, beyond my own kindred, an Instructor, a Guide, my death remove from any a Counsellor, a Friend? When I am carried to my long home, and the mourners go about the streets, will they be any other mourners than those who will naturally mourn for me, the members of my own family? Or will there be any for whose good I have laboured disinterestedly in life, who can stand beside my grave, and shed a true mourner's tear, and say, I have lost a friend?

watch and pray

Night.