After leaving Florence, we visited the Waldensian valleys, of which I have given some account in my “Footprints of Italian Reformers,” and I may here add, that I agree fully with Professor Comba in his opinion, that the Waldenses, properly speaking, do not appear in history earlier than the twelfth century, and then they are seen scattered over the South of France at Metz, and in the Netherlands—their origin being ascribed by their enemies to Peter Waldo of Lyons, who does not appear to have visited the valleys. I found the good people in the valleys opposed to the results of Professor Comba’s researches. An intelligent daughter of a Waldensian minister said, “We do not believe in them at all here.” After studying the subject, let me add, I do.
In 1881 my dear friend Dr. Stanley died, after so short an illness that I had no opportunity of seeing him in his last hours. His funeral was an event of national interest.
He had much of the mind which distinguished “that disciple whom Jesus loved.” His singular sweetness of disposition was partly natural, for he was a gentle, quiet boy, winning many hearts; but it was gracious and spiritual also, a result of sincere discipleship to the Divine Master. I often felt surprised at his extraordinary amount of forbearance under most unjust and cruel attacks. I once alluded to the need of patience amidst such trials, instancing Archbishop Tillotson, who left behind him a bundle of scurrilous letters, labelled with the words, “May God forgive the writers as I do.” I learned from my friend that once he was accused of infidelity by an anonymous correspondent; and on another occasion, after the figures of Moses, David, Paul, and Peter had been placed in the choir of the Abbey, he received a note beginning with a charge of idolatry. Our Broad Church Dean, and the prelate of the Revolution were ecclesiastically and socially much alike. As to theology the former told me there is much in the teaching of Scripture which transcends human conception, much which, running along lines of mystery, he felt himself unable to follow; but, at the same time, he would remark, there is much more that is plain, which “a wayfaring man, though a fool,” may receive and “not err therein.” To these plain things, he said, he desired to cleave; these plain things he endeavoured to preach. The main difference between others and himself was that certain Evangelical principles were plainer to them than to him.