Talbot Greaves

The Life And Ministry Of Talbot Greaves

Gospel Magazine April 1899:

A deeply touching interest attaches to our Portrait this month. The name of the Rev. Talbot Greaves, formerly Vicar of Clifton, and a constant speaker at the Clifton Conferences, had become familiar to our readers, not a few of whom had also frequently listened to his powerful Scriptural addresses at the October meetings in the Victoria Rooms. In our last month’s issue we announced that God’s servant had met with grave personal injuries through a fall from his horse, and that little hope of recovery was held out by his medical attendants. The anticipation of the end was speedily realized, and the noble Christian standard-bearer was called up to receive his crown not many hours after we penned those premonitory lines. Mr. Greaves, who was accustomed to horse exercise, was taking a ride alone in the neighbourhood of Shirehampton, when it is believed the animal became frightened from some cause, and broke away from all control, finally casting its rider with terrible violence. Consciousness fairly continued during the earlier stages of the ensuing illness—lasting from Saturday, February 18th, to the following Tuesday afternoon—but paralysis steadily set in, and no doubt the surroundings of earthly existence were shrouded while the immortal spirit passed onward and upward from hour to hour to the presence-chamber of the King of Glory.

In Mr. Greaves the Church of God on earth has lost one of its most lustrous “stars,” one whose light steady and pure, whose individual characteristics were discernible even among other brilliant luminaries in the spiritual firmament, and whose all-absorbing existence aimed at telling forth the glories of “The Light of Life.” The Lord Jesus Christ was the Alpha and the Omega of the testimony of this deep student of the Scriptures and eloquent preacher of the everlasting Gospel. He was a man of profound spiritual experience, his knowledge of self—as a sinner—and of Jesus, as the sole Saviour, imparting to his daily life and pulpit ministrations an impress of reality, earnestness, and gravity rarely met with in these days of vapid holy talking and superficial religious profession. His social position, education, remarkable mental gifts, and refined tastes, were alone calculated to bring him into prominent notice, and to secure for him a full share in the best preferment which the ecclesiastical world could have conferred upon him. His retiring habits, however, united with an instinctive shrinking from a semblance of ambition and self-seeking, afforded both the Episcopal Bench and the advisers of the Crown a convenient occasion to ignore in him the claims of those Evangelical and Protestant principles on which alone the Church of England is founded as a religious establishment.

We could write freely and cordially of dear Mr. Greaves, on personal grounds. As a trusted Christian friend and adviser, as well as a venerated senior brother in the ministry of the Gospel of God’s grace, he occupied a sacred place in the life-work of the writer of these lines. Fellowship in the Lord and in the interests of His truth—at a period of general apostasy and delusion—extended, in our acquaintance with God’s eminent servant over nearly eighteen years, uninterruptedly. In this veteran soldier of Christ, this fearless advocate of the man-humbling verities of God’s Covenant salvation, this eloquent expositor of the Scriptures and able defender of their inspiration and immutability, we reckoned a possession of no ordinary worth. And his great work below, so suddenly terminated, may well serve us a lasting stimulus to our zeal, and faith, and love, while we shall not cease to mourn the fact that a valiant champion of the old truths of the sovereign grace of God has been taken from our side. Some valuable remarks on the character and life of Mr. Greaves appeared last month in the English Churchman, which may well be here transcribed. They bear the stamp of a sympathetic hand, and are as follows:—

“He was great in intellect, great in testimony, great in work, and great in character. To say that he was perfect, otherwise than in Christ, would transgress his own faith and teaching, but to say that he was a great man is nothing more than simple justice. And yet, as I must point out, he was not marked by earthly or ecclesiastical distinctions. Infinitely smaller folks were again and again selected for such honour as men bestow, while he was passed over and left to the end of his days an ordinary clergyman. Why this should have happened is a question full of suggestions concerning the present condition of the Established Church. Mr. Talbot Greaves was descended from a very old family settled in Staffordshire for centuries. Born at the ancestral home at Mayfield in the year 1826, he proceeded in due course to St. John’s College, Cambridge, where he graduated in the year 1850, and in the same year he was ordained by the Bishop of Lichfield, and temporarily served as Curate of Mayfield, of which he became Vicar as soon as he was in full orders. In this sphere he remained until the year 1851, but in his younger days he had, after the death of his father, spent much time at Cheltenham, and had come under the influence of its famous Rector, Francis Close, afterwards Dean of Carlisle. Receiving great spiritual blessing from his ministry, Mr. Greaves remained an attached disciple to the last, and, after the lapse of half a century would sometimes say that he found himself unconsciously reproducing the Dean’s expositions of those long gone days. From the commencement of his ministry Mr. Greaves’s sermons were beyond the ordinary character, and attracted attention, and, after four years at Mayfield, he resigned the charge, and thenceforth frequently officiated at Cheltenham until the appointment of the Rector to the Deanery of Carlisle. It was well known that the Dean earnestly desired the appointment of Mr. Greaves to the vacant Rectory, but patrons thought fit to select Dr. Walker, then Vicar of Salford, and it is right to add that he was a most faithful and zealous pastor.

“In a very short time the Rectory of Melcombe Regis, which comprises a great part of Weymouth, fell vacant through the removal of the present Bishop of Exeter from Hinton Martel to Hampstead, and the consequent transfer of the well-known Charles Bridges from Weymouth to Hinton Martel. The Simeon Trustees then presented Mr. Talbot Greaves to Melcombe Regis, and he laboured there for a quarter of a century, from 1856 to 1881. In that period his labours were abundant; he freed the parish church from proprietary pews; he was the means of building a second church in the parish; he was a chief promoter of the Weymouth College, and an influential supporter of every philanthropic institution in the town. At length the time for his removal arrived, and the event came to pass in a singular manner. The parish church at Clifton had fallen into a poor condition through the incapacity of the lamented Bishop Anderson, whose powers had suddenly failed, so that he had been completely laid aside for three or four years. The pews in the church were chiefly held as private property, and let by the proprietors for their personal profit; the endowment was very small, and it was necessary to make provision for payment of one-third of the net revenue to the retiring Vicar during his life. In addition to these circumstances, the parish was then regarded as one which entailed more than ordinary expense upon its incumbent. The patrons did not know what to do with the important position. They offered it, perhaps to several, but certainly to two well-known clergymen, namely, the late Canon Money and Dr. Barlow, the present Vicar of Islington. Both had declined the offer for reasons already mentioned. At that time the Rev. E. P. Hathaway was a trusted adviser of the Simeon ‘l’rustees. He wrote to a friend describing the difficulties of the patrons, but a reply was sent stating that they need feel no difficulty in finding a new Vicar. Mr. Hathaway at once challenged this by asking for a few names, and six or seven were sent in without the knowledge of the clergy thus mentioned, and it was well known that not one of them would seek a change of sphere for himself. The first name on the list was that of Mr. Talbot Greaves, and in a few days he wrote to the same friend saying, ‘The Simeon Trustees asked me to undertake Clifton. ‘What shall I say?’ The reply to this was, ‘Have you not seen a vision of a man of Macedonia crying, Come over and help us?’ In the result he complied with the wishes of the patrons, and from October, 1881, to October, 1891, he was Vicar of Clifton. On the first Sunday the large parish church was thronged, and during the ten years large and liberal congregations were there assembled. The evening congregation was specially remarkable from the commencement.

“The pew system has been mentioned, and although for forty years or more it had been a subject of criticism, Mr. Talbot Greaves was the first to take the matter in hand with a view to a speedy remedy. He raised a sum of £4,000, or thereabouts, to purchase the pews, and a large number of them were acquired and vested in trustees, who were charged with the duty of maintaining Protestant simplicity of worship. This work, undertaken in the best interests of the parish, was afterwards made a cause of offence, and some of the weaker Evangelicals lent themselves to the support of High Church critics. But, nevertheless, subject to the maintenance of Protestant principles, the income of the benefice has been raised to such an extent that henceforth there need not be any difficulty in finding a Vicar.

“In the year 1891, Mr. Greaves retired from Clifton in order that Mr. Nevile Sherbrooke might be appointed, and the latter ministered until the summer of 1897, when failing health led to his retirement. Meanwhile, Mr. Greaves, after a period of rest, had felt able again to undertake some work, and he was appointed to the Incumbency of Trinity Church, Torquay, which was then a proprietary chapel vested in trustees. Upon commencing work in that place he felt the need of an effort to erect a new Church, and to obtain a district for it. With characteristic promptitude and vigour, the work was commenced, and in the autumn of 1896 the new Church was consecrated, and a district was legally assigned to it. Many liberal contributors aided the undertaking, but they were moved to do so by Mr. Greaves. He not only appealed to his friends, but also gave of his own means a total sum of £2,000, or thereabouts, towards the church and its endowment. The result is that a handsome church was erected, a new parish was formed, and the patronage was secured to Evangelical trustees. This work being completed, Mr. Greaves, being past seventy years of age, and suffering from deafness, resigned the charge, and his friend, the Rev. F. Bishop, was appointed to succeed him. He then returned to the neighbourhood of Clifton and became a member of Mr. Sherbrooke’s congregation. Frequently preaching at Clifton and in other places, and always ready to help his clerical friends, he continued to do much voluntary work. But upon Mr. Sherbrooke’s resignation, circumstances occurred which were deeply regretted. The trustees nominated Canon Streatfield, who at once announced his intention of abolishing the use of the black gown, which had been continued in Clifton Parish Church from the time of the Reformation. Mr. Greaves, and some of his colleagues in the Pew Trust, and other members of the congregation, protested, and Canon Streatfield withdrew. He allowed his friends to publish an explanation, which was deemed unfair, and much controversy ensued. The outside world supposed that there was a great deal of discord in the congregation, but this was a mistake. Few, if any, really desired the surplice; some were indifferent, others, while preferring the gown, were silent; while many felt that to make a change in a direction introduced and advocated by the High Church and Ritualistic party was a mistake, and they objected to the change. Amongst these protestors was Mr. Greaves, who silently bore an amount of persecution which need not now be detailed, and is only mentioned in justice to his memory. The Simeon Trustees did not take any steps to preserve the use of the gown, and did not select a clergyman accustomed to its use. The present Vicar made the change, and Mr. Greaves, believing the movement to be in the wrong direction, left the congregation, while, as his actions showed, feeling no personal ill-will towards the present Vicar. He has since continued his voluntary labours, preaching frequently and in many places.

It is not easy to estimate the results of spiritual work. But it may be safely said that Mr. Greaves was a preacher of remarkable power, and young people from his congregation have largely entered the ministerial ranks for both home and foreign work. The Rev. W. E. Hubbard, the missionary who recently died in Africa, had gone forth from the Clifton congregation, which has also furnished the present head master of Trent College (the Rev. J. S. Tucker), the Vicar of St. Paul’s, Penzance (the Rev. J. T. Inskip), the Curate of the Circus Church, Portsea (the Rev. Arthur Day), and others whose names I cannot now mention. His curates also now fill many important positions. I name a few of them: the Rev. James Fox, Vicar of St. Nathaniel’s, Bristol; the Rev. B. L. Symonds, Rector of Haversham; the Rev. C. R. Lilly, Vicar of Emanuel Church, Kennington; the Rev. F. Jansen, Vicar of Newton Solney; and the Rev. J. Roberts, Vicar of Christ Church, Leicester. I must not omit to notice his life-long devotion to the cause of Evangelical Missions, especially in connection with the Church Missionary Society, for which he both collected large sums and gave liberally of his own means, sometimes anonymously and in a manner unknown even to close friends. Nor must I omit mentioning the part taken by him at the Clifton Conference, founded by his close friend the Rev. S. A. Walker, and continued by the Rev. James Ormiston. There, year after year, Mr. Greaves delivered opening addresses of great power and permanent value. He was ever ready to unite in this and other ways with his non-conforming brethren, and was, in fact, an Evangelical of the old type. All this is now ended. In Talbot Greaves the Protestant cause has lost, at a most critical time, an able advocate, a wise counsellor, and a bold and unselfish champion. He can ill be spared, as his friends think. But his day’s work is over. He was one who felt, as few feel, the difficulty and danger of the present day. It may be that he is relieved from darker and more troublous times yet to come. God only knows.”

His powerful advocacy of God’s truth in pulpit and on platform will now be sorely missed. His ample leisure and independent circumstances allowed him to continue at the post of duty up to his latest hour. The Protestant platform, especially, has been deprived by his deplored death of one of its brightest lights. The annual Conference of believers at Clifton has lost one of its strongest pillars. Referring again to these truly refreshing yearly gatherings of the Lord’s people, in which Mr. Greaves used to take a keen interest, we feel constrained to reproduce a peculiarly expressive address which, at a short notice, he gave at one of the evening meetings of the Conference in October, 1895, in addition to a very remarkable speech made at the opening of the proceedings on the previous day. The subject of the Conference was “The Love of God,” and Mr. Greaves had already dwelt on an aspect of that love not commonly considered, namely, the mutual love between the Divine Persons in the Eternal Trinity. The brief second address to which reference is made, was as follows:—

“My dear friends, Mr. Ormiston has mentioned that there is a change in the arrangements tonight, and there is one change that I regret, and that is that he has asked me to speak again, but I will only occupy your time a very few moments, and I would desire to press one single thought upon you, and it is the great importance in dwelling upon the love of the Son of God, that we should always remember that His incarnation has caused that love to flow in a new channel, and has clothed it with new attributes. It still is God’s love, but now it is man’s love also; it is Divine love, but it is clothed with humanity; it is Divine love, but it is replete with all the tenderness and all the brotherly kindness and all the sympathizing fellow-feeling of the Man, Christ Jesus. The voice of the Old Testament is, ‘Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear Him.’ The Old Testament tells us of the compassion of God for men, but the voice of the New Testament goes farther. It tells us of the sympathy of God with men—‘It behoved Him in all things to be made like unto His brethren, that He might be a merciful and faithful High Priest;’ ‘Ye have not an High Priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.’ And I am sure, my friends, we must all feel that the heart of God seems to lie closer to our wants and to our woes now that it has become the heart of Man—the heart of Man without sin, without any of the least of that careless callousness of feeling which any admixture of sin always produces; and, more than that, it is the heart of ‘The Man of Sorrows’ acquainted with our grief. It is difficult, I know, to conceive of anything being added to the Infinite, it is difficult to conceive of any new experience in the case of Him who is ‘the same yesterday, today, and for ever,’ and yet it is undoubtedly true that the love of the eternal Son has, through experience, grown both in depth and in tenderness. It is now the love of One Who has passed through all the phases of our human experience; it is the love of One who ‘has suffered, being tempted;’ it is the love of One who knows the bitterness of loneliness, and who can enter into all the fierceness of the struggle with evil, for He Himself has passed through it all. Oh, what a wonderful thought it is that the incarnation of our Lord has translated Divine compassion into human sympathy. And there are times I am sure you all will testify, who really know the Saviour, and who know what real spiritual experience means, my friends, when the human love of the Lord Jesus Christ is unspeakably precious, and absolutely needful to us. The love of abstract Deity sometimes seems too far from us, too sublime for us; we want something that shall come down into the very recesses of our own nature. There are hours of bitter inward struggle, of fears, temptations, of sad memories of sin, when we feel that we need, indeed, a human ear into which to pour our sorrows; and if we know not Jesus in His true humanity and tender love, we shall be in great danger of falling into that monstrous and horrible substitute which Rome has inyented, ‘auricular confession to the priest.’ And there are times, oh, times of bitter sorrow, when we need indeed the sympathy of Jesus. You have all, I am sure, had experience of this. Who is there that has not been ready to say—

‘Jesus, my sorrow lies too deep 

For human ministry;

It knows not how to tell itself 

To any but to Thee.’

“And then, when you and I are called sometimes to stand almost heart-broken beside an open grave, I will venture to say that there are two words which tell of the human love of Jesus, which carry with them a power and a balm to our hearts which the contemplation simply of the abstract love of God cannot confer—‘Jesus wept.’ And then let us remember that such a sight of the blessed truth that, in the incarnation, the Divine love of Christ has been clothed with all the tenderness and sympathy of human love, is to expose us to very great danger of theological error. We can never, depend upon it, let go our grasp of the truth of the proper humanity of the Lord Jesus Christ, and of the exquisite tenderness of His human love, without very great peril. I believe that very much of the error of the Romish apostasy is to be traced up simply to the want of realizing the true humanity and tender human love of the Son of God. You remember St. John gives us a test of Antichrist in the 4th chapter of his First Epistle. He says: ‘Hereby know ye the Spirit of God: Every spirit that confesseth that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is of God, and every spirit that confesseth not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh, is not of God: and this is that spirit of Antichrist, whereof ye have heard that it should come; and even now already is it in the world.’

“Well, some people say, then Rome cannot be Antichrist, because certainly Rome does not deny the incarnation of the Son of God. Not in words, my friends, but practically she does deny it. Do you think that if the Romish Apostasy had only held fast the true, proper humanity of the Lord Jesus Christ, the reality of His body and the reality of His human soul, that she could ever have plunged, head-foremost, as she has done, into the terrible superstition and drivelling and degrading materialism of the doctrine of transubstantiation? Never! And then the whole system of sacerdotalism in the Church of Rome, the whole system of interposing between the sinner and the Saviour a human priesthood, all springs out of the want of a real grasp of the true humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ, and, oh, how has Rome thrust Mary into the place of Christ! How terribly she has transformed the loving Saviour, the tender Brother, the faithful Friend of sinners into a terrible judge, into a tremendous figure clothed with terrors, approachable by sinners only through some more gentle intercessor; it is sad to think of, that for all practical purposes of religious worship, the mother of Jesus is to the poor Romanist just the benignant patroness, to whose maternal persuasions with whom, if she can be induced to plead with her awful Son, the poor sinner may trust for final mercy. Relentless to others, hard to move, Christ yields to the prayers of His mother!

“It seems as if the present generation of Romanists would carry this most deplorable process a step further. Ever since Mary has been proclaimed ‘Immaculate,’ as a sort of semi-deity, entirely untouched by the stains and by the passions of fallen man, there has been a new cult growing up in the Church of Rome. I refer to the worship of ‘St. Joseph.’ This is fervently pressed forward now by a large and influential body of fanatics in the Church of Rome, especially in Ireland and in France. Joseph now must plead with the awful mother, in order that she again may plead with the yet more awful Son. Oh, how utterly dishonouring to the One Mediator is all this! My dear friends, the cry is, ‘Mary, pray for us,’ ‘Joseph, pray for us,’ and it is just the miserable voice of an evil heart of unbelief which has lost its grasp of the very humanity, of the tender sympathy of the God-man, Christ Jesus. Oh, let us hold fast the precious truth, that the Divine compassion of God is (if I may venture to use such a term) now clothed upon with human sympathy. What would we have more? It is a glorious and a wondrous thought, my friends, to go forth at night and look up at the stars above us, and then to think that between us and those distant, glittering suns there is no intervening cloud, no darkness at all, but directly and immediately their glorious beams stream down upon us. But I will tell you a more glorious thought than that, a more amazing one, that between Him who bears a human heart upon the throne of God, and the poor sinner down on earth, there is no intervening cloud, there is no darkness at all, but directly and immediately, and without intervention of saint, or angel, or virgin, or priest, or church, there comes down the glorious light of a love which is at once human and Divine. My dear friends, is this not enough for us? What more would we have? Shall we accept of sacerdotalism? Shall we accept of an earthly priesthood? Shall we have recourse to inferior mediators? ‘What more would we have than this? A tender Savior, a sympathizing Brother, a Friend that sticketh closer than a brother, One who has trodden our path of toil, and conflict, and sorrow, and loneliness, right on from a mother’s womb to the mouth of the grave, and who has translated the compassion of God into the sympathy of man!”

The interment of the remains of the dead departed servant of Christ took place at Mayfield, Staffordshire, his native village, where his estates lay. On the preceding day, however (Friday, February 24th), a service was held in Clifton Parish Church—the scene of his fruitful ministry of ten years.

The cortege left Stoke House, Stoke Bishop, near Bristol, the residence of Mr. Greaves, at eleven o’clock. The coffin was met at the principal door by the Rev. J. Ormiston (Rector of St. Mary-le-port), and the Rev. T. C. Chapman (Vicar of Christ Church, Clifton), the latter repeating the opening lines of the service. The remaining officiating clergy, the Rev. G. F. Head (Vicar), BISHOP Marsden, and the Rev. S. F. Alford (Vicar of St. Andrew-the-Less, Hotwells) were in the chancel. The hymn, “For ever with the Lord,” having been sung, the 90th Psalm was read by the Rev. J. Ormiston, and the Vicar read the lesson, 1 Corinthians 15. The Rev. F. S. Alford took the subsequent prayers, and after the hymn, “Lo, round the throne, at God’s right hand,” Bishop Marsden (Assistant Bishop of Bristol) pronounced the Benediction. The officiating clergy preceded the coffin to the west door, the organist playing, “O rest in the Lord.” The following were the mourners who accompanied the remains to Mayfield:—Mrs. Talbot Greaves, Dr. McLean (brother-in-law), and Miss E. Greaves; Miss Alice Greaves, and Mrs. W. Greaves; Mr. and Mrs. J. Inskip, Miss Inskip, Mr. Inskip, jun.; Mr. and Mrs. Mr. J. Wilkinson, and Mr. Silcox.

At Mayfield Church on the Saturday a large number of mourning friends—many from a distance—assembled in the church at eleven o’clock, when the closing service was held. The hymn, “For ever with the Lord,” was sung, and a touching address was delivered by the Rev. Thomas Graham, of Southborough, Kent, an old and valued friend of the departed one. The service at the graveside was taken by the Rev. A. Evill, Vicar of the parish, and the Rev. F. C. Jansen. Before leaving the church, Mr. Graham spoke as follows:—“Since my arrival at this place I have been unexpectedly asked to deliver a short address. Therefore, you must not expect more than a few brief words; but no prepared address is needful, as my words will be spoken from a full heart. My first thought is in connection with our burial service, or, as I sometimes term it, our resurrection service, for it begins with the thought of the resurrection and the life, and reminds us of Him who has abolished death and brought life and immortality to light. In the opening sentences there seem to be, as it were, three speakers—First, the Lord of Life Himself saying, ‘I am the Resurrection and the Life; he that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live;’ Secondly, we seem to hear, as it were, the departing one responding, ‘I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that He shall stand at the latter day upon the earth. And though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God;’ and, Thirdly, the mourner joins, ‘The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.’ May we not say, on this occasion, ‘Blessed be the name of the Lord for all that He gave in the servant now taken from us?’

“How great is the loss to each one of us. I speak out of personal experience. He was one of my oldest friends. For thirty-seven years I was known to him, and I can only testify to the unspeakable value of this friendship to myself. I have lost one who was chiefest in the forefront of low. I cannot interpret the personal feelings of others, but I have been struck by his singular interest in young people, and his great influence over them. A year ago he officiated at the marriage of my daughter, and well do I remember his masterly address, so full of wisdom, tenderness, and love. I had often listened to his conversations, by which he had helped her in every way. Many in his parishes can say the like. But we must look beyond ourselves, for we have lost a public man, and the public loss is very great in this crisis of the Church of England, and therefore, as I believe, of our country itself. We think of his powerful and cultured intellect, his wide and deep learning, his singular eloquence, his commanding influence, and his unwearied assiduity and zeal, and we thankfully remember that all these talents were sanctified for the Master’s use, and devoted to the Master’s glory. For many years he had borne a faithful testimony, sometimes amidst much misunderstanding. He had been a standard-bearer, a champion of Christ’s truth, known everywhere, and ever ready to come and help in response to the many invitations which continually reached him. On Friday last I was present at a large meeting of the Council of the National Protestant Union, when a resolution was unanimously and cordially passed, expressing the deep regrets of the Council at the loss which had been sustained. This is significant of the high honour and estimation in which Mr. Talbot Greaves was held. Moreover, he was not a mere partisan, and he contended, not for mere victory, but for his Master’s sake, and for the truth of Christ, ever preaching Jesus Christ, and speaking as one who knew the Saviour and loved Him with an ardent love. Not in public only, but in private also, he spoke for the Master, and some here present will remember with me that he was gifted with singular felicity of expression in family prayer. He was always true to Protestant and Evangelical principles. There were two words upon which he dwelt on many occasions—they were, ‘with Christ.’ He ever reminded us of the Saviour’s declaration, ‘He that is not with Me is against Me.’ I once heard Him say that personal holiness is sympathy with God. What a perfect definition is this, reminding us that there must be not only external actions, but internal character also. The work of the pastor is to gather sheep for the flock, stones for the temple, jewels for the crown, and souls for the Saviour. ‘He that gathereth not with Me scattereth abroad.’ Our dear friend’s work is done. Few days since he was in activity and now he is gone. We sorrow not as those wthout hope. We look forward to the time when there shall be no separation, because we shall ever be with the Lord.'” Mr. Graham added a very earnest exhortation to the congregation that they should be satisfied with nothing less than a personal and experimental interest in Christ’s Redemption, and a personal committal of the soul to Him.

Talbot Greaves (1826-1899) was a High-Calvinist Anglican preacher. In 1850 he was ordained Bishop of Lichfield to the Curacy of Mayfield. In 1854 he assisted Dean Close at the parish church in Cheltenham. In 1856 the Simeon Trustees appointed him to the living of Melcombe Regis, Dorsetshire, laboring for twenty-five years. In 1881 he became Vicar of Clifton.