Edward Hoare's sermon on the death of the Rev. Stephen Langston takes as its text Matthew 25:23, the master's words to the faithful servant. Hoare immediately distinguishes the sermon from a mere eulogy by framing Langston's death as the resignation of a ministerial trust: 'he has, as it were, handed back to Him who gave it the sacred stewardship of God's ministry.' The structure follows two movements—the master's verdict ('Thou hast been faithful') and the master's welcome ('Enter thou into the joy of thy lord')—but the excerpts show that Hoare's most striking passages come when he imagines what Langston would say from heaven, directly quoting the deceased vicar's own farewell sermon.
The Two-Talent Encouragement
Hoare makes a pointed theological observation that the master's verdict in the parable is identical for the servant with two talents and the one with five: 'It does not say, “Thou hast been rich,” or “great,” or “powerful,” or “brilliant,” but “faithful.”' This allows him to address listeners who might feel overshadowed by Langston's gifts—his 'powerful, and melodious, voice' and 'marvellous power of exhibiting truth.' Hoare explicitly names the disparity: 'We may have only two talents, or perhaps only one, when he had five.' The sermon thus becomes a pastoral reassurance, not a celebration of exceptional ability. Hoare reinforces this with the example of Moses' rod, a 'common, rough, shepherd’s rod' that God used for miracles. The emphasis falls on faithful use of whatever one has, not on the scale of the gift.
The Joy of the Lord as a Present Reality
In the second half of the sermon, Hoare develops the master's welcome by describing the joy of the Lord as both reunion with the saints and, more centrally, the presence of Christ himself. He lists figures Langston might now see—'Abel, and Enoch, and all the Prophets, Evangelists, and Saints'—and names specific congregations Langston served: 'Hastings, from Richmond, from Sheffield, from Jersey, and from Southborough.' But Hoare insists that 'the joy of the Lord must be the joy that is realized in the presence of the Lord himself.' He then quotes Langston's own words from his final sermon: 'Oh! he said, “What joy to see him face to face! What joy to see him even now through the lattice!”' The passage culminates in a litany of biblical promises—'The crown of life,' 'The tree of life,' 'The new name,' 'The morning star'—that Hoare presents as now fulfilled for the deceased.
The Imagined Address from Heaven
Hoare ventures a hypothetical: what would Langston say if he could speak from heaven? The device allows Hoare to deliver two distinct appeals. To believers, Langston would say 'that the half was not told you, no not the thousandth part' of Christ's fullness, urging them to 'cleave to him, to follow him, to love him.' To the unconverted, Hoare imagines Langston repeating the warning from his farewell sermon: 'Oh, those words, “Son remember!”' and 'What must be the worm that never dies, the fire that is never quenched?' The sermon thus becomes a double-edged exhortation, using the deceased's own recorded voice to press the congregation. Hoare acknowledges the finality: 'we shall hear that voice no more on earth,' but insists that 'the message remains, the Redeemer remains, the salvation remains.'
Readers should note that the excerpts preserve only the sermon's body and conclusion; the opening Scripture reading and any hymns or prayers are absent. Hoare's method—weaving Langston's own farewell sermon into his funeral address—means that the text functions as both a memorial and a second proclamation. The catalog classifies this as Science Fiction & Utopias, but the content is entirely a Victorian Anglican funeral sermon, with no speculative or futuristic elements. The misclassification may reflect the broadness of Project Gutenberg's category system rather than any feature of the work itself.
Langston’s two talents earned the same "well done" as five—that quiet arithmetic stayed with me. It recalled the wartime Address by Honorable William C. Redfield, Secretary of Commerce at Conference of Regional Chairmen of the Highways Transport Committee Council of National Defense — Reading Notes, where ordinary roadwork became national service. Both sermons measured worth not by scale, but by steady trust in small, faithful hands.