¦i ^% .¦,'¦•• 'I.' -i 'i * ^4£n ]iiiiiiiji,iiniwpjjuiMiuiuauniiu miiii li. iiiiiii ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦.||.n[ip From the COLLECTION OF OXFORD BOOKS made by FALCONER MADAN Bodley's Librarian With the Mayor s Compliments. Nov. isl, 1887. zu Queett'0 ^ufiiU^ A SERMON ^ttfiifee ^tav, 1887. The Right Rev. John Fielder Mackarness, D.D. Lord Bishop of the Diocese of Oxford. The Rev. James Bellamy, D.D. Vice-Chancellor of the University of Oxford. James Hughes, Esq. Mayor of Oxford. th (Xnttn'e 2^^^^^^ SERMON PREACHED JUNE 28, 1887, BEFORE THE RIGHT REV. THE LORD BISHOP OF THE DIOCESE, THE REV. THE VICE-CHANCELLOR, THE HEADS OF HOUSES, AND THE MA YOR AND CORPORA TION, IN THE CATHEDRAL OF CHRIST CHURCH, OXON, BY THE VERY REV. THE DEAN PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION BY HORACE HART, PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY 1887 The request of the Worshipful the Mayor that he might be allowed to print this Sermon was so kindly and generously made, that T could not decline it, though I am well aware how small a contribution is thereby made towards the chortis of loyal sentiment which was called forth on the occasion of Her Majesty's Jubilee. H. G, L. Oct. 15, 1887. th ^uun'B ^uMu. SERMON. ' T exhort therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men ; for kings, and for all that are in authority ; that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty I — I Tim. ii. i, 2. [BOUT this time fifty years ago dis courses were delivered from thou sands of pulpits breathing the spirit of this Apostolic exhortation. We vied one with the other in intercessions and thanksgivings for our young Queen, and earnestly prayed that her reign might be long and happy, and that her people might lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty. Fifty years ago ! Not many of those whom I see before me can carry back their memories, zu ^viuWe ^viUki. as I can, to that period, and call to mind the incidents of the 21st of June, 1837, when in the pale light of early morning the young Princess Victoria was aroused from her quiet sleep by the untimely visit of two great officers of State, who came to announce the death of the good-natured Sailor King, William the Fourth, and to salute Her Majesty as Sovereign of the great Empire on which the sun never sets. Not many of you, I say, can remember this. We, of more advanced age, can never forget it. We were then young, full of eager expectation, buoyed up by hopes of a bright future, troubled by few fears or anxieties. The accession of a young Queen, reared with tender love and rare discretion by a good mother, opened a splendid vista, which dazzled the most sober, and almost made us forget that this world is full of vicissitudes, and that no one can tell zu Oueen'0 ^ufiifee. what a year or a day may bring forth of disappointment and distress. Chivalrous sen timents ruled every heart ; devotion to a young, pure, and inexperienced Sovereign swayed every thought ; we were in a mood to under stand the feelings of the Hungarian Chiefs who rallied round their Empress Queen with the cry Moriamtcr pro rege nostro — ' Let us die for our Sovereign Lady the Queen ' ; or to appropriate the prophecy which our great poet put into the mouth of Archbishop Cranmer respecting Queen Elizabeth : She shall be loved and feared.' Her own shall bless her ; Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn. And hang their heads with sorrow. Good grows with her In her days every man shall eat in safety Under his own vine what he plants, and sing The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours: God shall be truly known; and those about her From her shall read the perfect ways of honour. And by those claim their greatness, not by blood. It may be said that these are the excited 8 ZU Oueen'0 3u6ifee. and enthusiastic expressions of the young and ardent. But I can appeal to cooler and per haps more trustworthy authority. Within two years have been published the remainder of the journal kept by Charles GreviUe, who was Clerk of the Council at the accession of her Majesty. At that date he was forty-three years of age, past that time of eager youth which surrenders itself to the fascination of fancy, and builds castles on no secure foun dation. He was a man of a cynical turn of mind, disposed rather to censure than to praise, and certainly not inclined to show deference to persons of high rank unless they seemed to him to merit it. In that private journal, not to be published during his life, he recorded his opinions without reserve or disguise, and his words may be taken as expressing the actual sentiments of a shrewd and observant critic. 'All that I hear,' he says, 'of the young zu C^uiW^ 5u6tfee. Queen leads to the conclusion that she will play a conspicuous part, and that she has a great deal of character. She has made very favourable impressions, particularly upon Lord Melbourne, who has a thousand times greater opportunities of knowing what her disposition and capacity are than any other person, and who is not a man to be easily captivated or dazzled by any superficial accomplishments in mere graces of manner, or even by personal favour.' Soon afterwards he writes (Journal, iii. p. 244) : ' The young Princess was transferred at once from the Nursery to the Throne.* She at once cast herself on her Prime Minister, and from the first day of her reign their rela tions were marked by an intimacy which he * Johnson, in Boswell's Life (i. p. 363, ed. Birkbeck Hill), says : ' It would be unreasonable to expect much from the immaturity of juvenile years, and the ignorance of princely education.' B 3 IO zu Queen'e 3tt6ifee. never abused; he only availed himself of his great influence to impress upon her mind sound maxims of constitutional government and truths which it behoved her to learn. It is impossible to imagine anything more interesting than the situation which he thus occupied, or one more calculated to excite all the latent sensibility of his nature. His loyal devotion soon warmed into a parental affection, which she repaid by unbounded confidence and regard. He never scrupled to tell her what none other would have dared to say; and in the atmosphere of flattery which Kings and Queens are destined to breathe, he never hesitated to declare frankly his real opinions, strange as they sometimes sounded, and unpalatable as they often were. He acted in all things an affectionate, con scientious, and patriotic part, endeavouring to make her happy as a woman and popular as a Queen.' zu QvLurCe ^^fiifee. 1 1 When we compare these passages with our remembrance of the sentiments of younger men fifty years ago, they may seem cold and wanting in enthusiasm. It is so. But I think that this very thing gives weight to the evidence ; and I do not know whether this evidence is more honourable to the Queen or to her Minister. A young girl, necessarily educated in a sort of seclusion and suddenly called to sovereignty, might easily have lost her head, and been loth to listen to frank advice and manly warning. The Minister of a young Queen might have been tempted to win favour by speaking smooth things, and to follow rather than guide the inclination of his mistress. On both sides the very reverse of this came to pass. The Minister spoke out freely, even bluntly. The Queen received his counsels as a daughter receives the kindly admonitions of a parent. 12 ZU Otteen'0 ^uBiPee. And now, at the close of fifty years, we look back and ask how those eager anticipations of the young, how the more sober judgments of experienced men of the world, have been fulfilled. So far as regards the Queen's own life they have been abundantly fulfilled. We all know how carefully and anxiously the purity of her Court has been preserved, how great has been the contrast between the Court life of Victoria and that of some of her predecessors. We know also with what assiduous care the Queen and the Prince Consort watched over the nurture and education of their children. Her Majesty has, by publishing her own diaries and by supplying the fullest information to the biographer of her beloved husband, revealed more of her domestic life than was ever done by any sovereign in any age, and there is not a page to blot. The Queen has had great sorrows. She zu Oueen'0 ^nUUt, 13 has lost a daughter, who came to her untimely end by devotion to her duties as a mother, whose death was mourned by her people in Germany as if each one had lost a near and dear kinswoman. She has lost a son — well known to us In Oxford — who bade fair by his terse eloquence and various accomplish ments to revive the memory of his lamented father. All the trusted friends and confidants of the Queen's youth and maturer age have one by one been taken from her, and now In advancing years she Is compelled to seek new advisers in times of need. Above all, she has — now for more than twenty-five years — been left a widow, by the unexpected death of one whose loss, I have always thought, was a very grievous blow to the British Empire. While that excellent Prince lived he was looked on with suspicion as a foreigner, and at times was even the 14 ZU ^CluuWe ^uBxiu, object of coarse attacks. Since he has been taken away full acknowledgment has been made of his sagacity, his great qualities, his rare disinterestedness, his devotion to the service of his Queen and his adopted country. Her Majesty has been censured for her retire ment during these sorrowful years of widow hood. The fact of her retirement is true. But has this diminished her sympathy with the sufferings of others or slackened her efforts, through herself and her children, to promote all good and useful works? Sad accidents are of too frequent occurrence by land and sea. Who Is so forward as the Queen to make anxious inquiries as to the condition of the sufferers and to help in relieving those who have been left desolate ? No one can refuse to recognise and admire the rare constancy of affection with which she has cherished the memory of her loving and beloved husband. zu €l\nttne ^tiUUi, 15 In most cases love grows cold with advancing time, and Is buried In the grave of the once- loved object. But here, what depth, v/hat persistency of affection, what faithful memory of happy years ! what effacement of self ! what self-devotion to him whom living she clung to for support, and whom dead she cannot forget ! If we turn from private life to public affairs, we find a chequered record. The prophecy which was put by Shakespeare into Cranmer's mouth was far, indeed, from being a statement of facts. No reign was ever more disturbed by domestic treasons and foreign alarms than that of Elizabeth. Nor has our Queen's reign been one of tranquillity. Hardly had she ascended the throne when Canada — now so loyal — gave cause for grave embarrassments. War was imminent, through Egypt, with France. In Afghanistan a whole army was treacherously massacred. Indian wars followed. 1 6 ZU Qv^ur^& ^ufiifee. and for a time It seemed doubtful whether our soldiers would prevail over those brave Sikh warriors who have now become the trusty supporters of our Eastern Empire. Then came Irish famine and Irish rebellion, producing questions which are even now (as we all know) crying for settlement. Soon after we were living in daily anxiety during the deadly struggle in the Crimea, followed closely by the still more terrible perils of the Indian Mutiny, when a few handfuls of British soldiers set, as it were, their backs against the wall, and fought to the death — fought, and in the end conquered. Those who had friends and kinsmen engaged In those tremendous struggles know with what daily terror they awaited the brief records of the telegraph. Even the younger among you can remember the march into the wilds of Abyssinia, the disastrous campaigns in South Africa, and the desperate zu Qv^ur^6 ^^Bifee. 17 struggles of resolute men to rescue the self- devoted hero, Charles Edward Gordon. These are not the records of a peaceful reign. But these wars have not disturbed our state at home. Nor have continental troubles disturbed It. The Revolutions of 1848, which shook every State in Europe ; the gigantic but brief wars which altered the whole frame work and policy of the great European States — Austria, Prussia, and France — hardly ruffled the surface of our sea. Amid all storms the fiftieth year of Victoria sees our ancient Con stitution, altered indeed and broadened, but still erect and firm — erect and firm, as we hope and pray, because it has been altered and broadened. If evidence were required that the heart of England Is in its right place, that it is loyally determined to uphold our ancient Constitution and to protect our native shores, no better 1 8 ZU fC^ti^un'e gttfiieee. proof can be given than the resolute constancy with which our Volunteer movement has been maintained, in no braggart or Idle spirit, but with a firm adherence to their admirable motto, 'Defence, not defiance.' Again, In no other capital in Europe could the Sovereign traverse seven miles of streets, as the Queen did on the opening of the People's Palace, amid the un- bought acclamations of an enthusiastic people. In no other could be witnessed that spon taneous burst of loyalty which was elicited on the occasion of the Queen's visit to the great Abbey just one week ago. Some who hear me doubtless witnessed that magnificent display ; those who did not witness It must have read of it, and It would be tedious were I to attempt to reproduce what must be so well known to all. But one thing I cannot refrain from noticing. From many who were present in the Abbey I have heard that nothing was so striking, so zu -tii ¦¦>m~' m^ "s^:^