WESTMINSTER ABBEY AND THE DEATH OF DEAN STANLEY.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XVI, Issue 228, 24 September 1881, Page 4

WESTMINSTER ABBEY AND THE DEATH OF DEAN STANLEY.

The London correspondent of the N.Z. Times writes : — When the news went round in the middle of July that the Dean of Westminster waa seriously indisposed, the reiigiou3 world, not to say society at large, felt that the shadow of a great calamity was approaching. Ever since the death of his wife, Lady Augusta Stanley, the little old man so well known to all frequenters of the Abbey and residents of Westminster, was observed to be getting, if possible, thinner and smaller, more shadow-like thau ever. To use the words of a modern writer, " The blade was evidently fast wearing out its sheath." Yet when it was cerf inly known that the end had come , and the messenger of death was rapidly approaching, crowds of ali classes hung, as it were, affectionately round the house within which that noble and godlike spirit was then fast ebbing away. Even in the troubled atmosphere of the House of Commons any news from the sick bed were eagerly asked for ; the highest and the lowest in the land vied with each other in a painful interest. The end came at length at 20 minutes to 12 o'ciock on the night of July 18th. Round the bedside were many of the Dean's most intimate friends. Most of them watched him to tho last, the Archbishop of Canterbury being amongst the number. Nearly his last words Io uttered showed that his thoughts lay with the great Abbey, where eighteen years of his life were passed — " lam perfectly happy — perfectly satisfied. I have no misgivings ;" and a little later, just before he became inarticulate he said—" So far as I know what the duties of the office are supposed to be, in spite of every incompetence, I yet humbly trust I have sustained before the mind of the nation the extraordinary value of the Abbey as a religious, liberal, and national institutio _." I need hardly say to an English-speaking and writing public, whethei antipodean or not, that Dr Stanley belonged essen-

tially to the Broad Church School of I the Church of England. He was the head of it, aud every day of his useful life was given, in one form or other, to proclaim the true catholicity of Church of England, and to make the Abbey of Westminster the vehicle of reconciliation for all members of the Christian Church — a common platform on which all might meet without recrimination. In appearance Dean Stanley was very insignificant ; any one meeting a little old shabby-looking man with an umbrella tucked under his arm would never have suspected that beneath that quiet exterior lay a mind as richly endowed and as purely wise as could be found within *;"ie circle of humanity. As a preacher Dean Stanley was defective in delivery, and anyone going for the first time to hear him would be disappointed. Possessing a feeble voice, and having the immense audience of the Abbey to address, he was apt to become monotonous and drawliug iv the effort to make himself heard ; but the matter of his sermons was always effective, and could be read with deepest interest. Though, it Is believed that he never made an enemy of a personal kind, yet at one timo he was subjected to what may be called a severe religious persecution, and an effort was made a few years since to oust him from the position of select preacher at St Mary's, Oxford. This attempt was, however, signally repulsed, a decisive majority deciding in his favour. Up to the last, he incurred the bitter hostility of the High Church party, who have never spared any opportunity of attacking him, both in seasou and out of season. I should just perhaps add that the disease to which he succumbed was erysipelas, brought on presumably by cold caught at come one of the many meetings he was often attending for the benefit of the working classes. The funeral took place in Henry Vll.'s chapel, where the Dean is buried by his wife, at the special command of the Queen. A crowd numbering several thousands assembled both within aud without the Abbey, and the immense variety of classes testified the honor in which his name is held. The pall-bearers, eight in number, were men in the highest walks of life, both literary and social. The Prince of Wales and several members ofthe Royal Family represented the Queen, who, it is well known, bitterly mourns the loss the nation and herself have sustained. Most appropriate are the lines carved on a tomb near to which the Dean now rests, and for whom they are as, if not more, appropriate than for any who have slept the sleep of the righteous withia the Abbey walls : — "Ne'er to these chambers, where the mighty rest, Since their foundation came a nobler guest, Nor e'er was to the bowers of b'iss conveyed A fairer spirit or more welcome shade." Nothing has yet transpired as to the sue - cessor of Dr. Stanley. Cwion Farrar, the wise, liberal, and learned rector of the ancient Church of St. Margaret, which nestles beneath the Abbey, would undoubtedly be welcomed as Dean by au immense majority of Churchmen, and the learned leisure of such a position would enable him to continue those studies and writings which in his Lives of Christ and St. Paul have made his name famous in the two hemispheres. Many other names are, however, mentioned, but the ultimate decision rests with Mr Gladstone, who has not yet shown his hand. I have dwelt somewhat at length on his topic, as the position of Dean of the Collegiate Church of St. Peter's, Westminister, occupies an almost unique position in ecclesiastical world. Not only is he guardian ofthe mosthonored and revered fabric certainly in the British Empire — and I had almost said in Europe, for round it gathers he history of England, and within it clusters such a collection of illustrious dead as is not readily to be elsewhere matched — but he is also absolutely and altogether independent of all control ; there is uo power in Church or State which can interfere with him in hi 3 clerical capacity. This exceptional position he acquires as successor to the Abbots of Westminister, who in their day defied all Eome authority, aud were responsible for their actions to the Pope of Rome direct. Hence it is obvious that the influence wielded by a man in this position is paramount for weal or woe, aud the responsibility of filling up such a post is correspondingly onerous.