STORIES OF A GREAT PRELATE.

Press, Volume LX, Issue 11496, 31 January 1903, Page 6

STORIES OF A GREAT PRELATE.

A volume might be mitten round the storiee told of Br. Temple, tibe late Archbiehop of Ctontepoaiy. Same, no doubt, are more or lem iktatioua, but there aw many -well-autlhentlcated anecdotes which illustrate lus sardonic humour, him thxewdness and fbroad oominon-jrense, ibie directness, and even roughness, of mumer, and otlier notable trake of a, great and , forceful personality. Hβ mm a man of tmxxy etrikm% qualities, with some of the defect* tf hie virtues. It ia a ootnmon «*ying that Dr. Temple, both as (headmaster and a> Bishgip, was more feared thau loved; bat he mm traßted even where he wa* feared, co etraiglitfarward wu he* ao jnat, bo absolutely fearleM. ISie qtjaiity of his humour is admirably jUnstcated in (he story of tie kdy who, while sitting next Dx. Temple at dinner, regaled 1 ihim trkh a long recital, describing •how her aunt, by just xniausg a certain train, had escaped l the terrible accident which subsequently befell it. "Don't you think," one asked, "that it waa a apecial intervention of a beneficent Providence on my aunt's behalf?" The Ajn&biahop replied, -witihi grim brevity, "Can't say—don't "know your aunt.' , Sometimea km w'A took the f arm of *atcejtio epigram, a* when a clergymm of hit diocese wrote him an inosduuttery letter concerning a picture which to ■wanted pennjamon to put up in the ohanoel of hse cbnroh. Dr. Temple replied on a ipoetaard, "Dear Blank,—Hang "the picture!" On anot&w occasion he etumbled whiLe walking down the chancel siepa on him -way to tibe pdpit. After the servioe the vicar, referring to this incident ezpreased the hope ihat he had not been feeling faint "Not At all," replied Dr. Temple. "It , * matter? a qocataoo of sex.

"Iboqgh I ham bam * Bkbop for Mreral <: 7«im t rr» not buitod to ttuug* inj

"•Itirt* properly. , ' Ann&w good story illustrative of the Pirimate's cense of humour is connected with a certain function at St. PauTa. It waa a bitterly cold day, and when Dr. Temple arrived at the west door he was seen to be wearing a grey woollen wrapper over hie episcopal robes, producing •q effect which bordered on tbe ludicrous. "Your Grace," fussed the Dean, in some trepidation, "your Grace will take that "off?" "Wiben you shut the door," snapped the Archbishop. The door was duly shut, and £he Archbishop slowly unwound the yards of wrapping. Then, turning to hit chaplain, he said in a stage-whisper, loud enough for the Dean to hear, "B , carry "the sacred scarf 1"

Dr. Temple's manner was apt to be decidedly off-handed and blunt, and at times even rude. He often gave offence by the way he seemed to ride rough-shod ooer people's feelings, and the fact that hia "brusquerie" was thoughtless rather than deliberate cannot be regarded as mitigating the failing in a man occupying the high positions which be did. Yet he could rise to the occasion when brought to book, as the following incident shows. While Bishop of London he was visited at the palace one day by a clergyman of the diocese, who had walked some miles in order to see the Bishop on important business. The interview had only lasted a few minutes when the luncheon bell rang. "I muet go to lunch,' , said the Bishop, "good morning," and away he went, leaving the poor cleric to plod back to his parish. At the next diocesan meeting the clergyman related the incident, which was listened %b with evident sympathy. The Bishop heard it without moving a muscle, and in his closing speech he simply said, referring to the story, "The "facts were correctly stated"—a pause—• " and the implied accusation is just." Dr. Temple hated " toadyism," and lost no opportunity of showing his dislike for anything approaching it. "lam afraid yonr "Grace finds the weather very trying," said an obsequious churchwarden. "No j "worse for me than for anyone else," replied the Archbishop in hie gruffest tones. Aβ we hays indicated, tbe Archbishop inspired respect, if not always affection, and the influence he exerted was not due solely to his intellectual abilities. A Devonshire farmer, when Dr. Temple was Bishop of Exeter, was once heard to declare, "I do love our Bishop; 'c do 'oUer *ol" No less sincere was the tribute paid to hi* physical proportions by a London policeman, who said to a fellow-constable, "My " word, Jim, but the Bishop's a fine man. " It would take two of us to run him in." In spite of all hk asperities and eooentrioities of manner, the Primate was acknowledged to be one of the best and strongest personalities in England, and his death Jest Christmas, at the venerable age of eighty-one, was universally deplored