DEATH OF DEAN HOVELL

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1748, 6 September 1905, Page 30

DEATH OF DEAN HOVELL

NAPIER, September 4. A telegram received from Ormondville to-night conveys news of /the sudden death at that place of Dean Hovell, incumbent of St. John’s Cathedral, Napier. The Dean,who had been in charge of St. John’s parish for over twenty years, and to whose efforts the erection of St. John’s Cathedral was mainly due, was one of the most eloquent and bestknown prelates in the colony. He leaves a widow, two sons, and one daughter. A NOTABLE PERSONALITY. Go to thy grave. At noon from labour cease. Rest on thy sheaves, thy harvest work is done. Come from the heart of battle, and in peace, Soldier, go home! with thee, the fight is Avon. The preacher was Dean Hovell. The scene, Napier Cathedral. Gazing on the flags .of Empire that hang in the eastern transept of the edifice in which his eloquent voice had been heard for so many years, the Dean quoted, these words of a favourite poet at a memorial service held for some of the colonial troops Avho had fallen in a far-off land. He little knew how soon they might be quoted to mark his OAvn sad end. They are particularly appropriate to recall at this moment. Dean Hovell’s death comes as a shock to those who knew him. A man of unusual talents, a brilliant preacher, and a man whose friendship was well worth treasuring, he passes away in the prime of life, genuinely mourned by every section in the community in which he had made his home for such a long period. He was horn within sight of Canterbury Cathedral. Kent had ever for him a vivid attraction, and although he left England young in years to go out to India as an army chaplain, and spent the rest of his life in this colony, there was no one who, when opportunity offered, inculcated a deeper feeling of reverence for Old Land associations than Dean Hovell. In India he had interesting experiences of army life, and it was this close contact with the soldier and his ways that made him an ardent Imperialist. Coming to New Zealand, the dean was curate at St. Michael’s, Christchurch, undei* the late Dean Jacobs, and then he took over the charge of St. John’s parish, Napier, Avhere he laboured ever since.

The Deanei’y, Napier, stands on a prettily-enclosed, tree-girt eminence, overlooking the cathedral that is to this day a monument to the Dean’s unflagging zeal. Here, amidst shrubs and flowers, the Dean might often have been seen taking his morning walk. He was a great lover of Nature; a man of deep sympathy with the trials of humanity, and it was his affection for the suffering, his care for the sick, that endeared him so to his people. The “milk of human kindness” AAms strong in him. An imposing personality, his influence was felt at whatever meeting he attended. He had an extraordinary affection for ..Napier Cathedral,probably because he had been the means himself of getting it built. He told the people that old St. John's Church would not do. They must ha\ r e a cathedral. It was an easy thing to say, but he meant business. The cathedral Avas up before the people could realise that the Dean was serious over the matter. One Sunday he said to them from his pulpit: “I want £IOOO by next Sunday to Avipe off the deficit.” There was £I2OO in the plate on the following Sunday, and this in a community not numbering nine thousand.

As a speaker on Imperial matters he had, in point of brilliant rhetoric, perhaps no equal in this country. During the South African war crisis, as chaplain of the East Coast Battalion, roused the people to a sense of Imperial duty as few men of the cloth could have done. It was done, too, without an appeal to any extreme Jingoism. A book of the Dean’s speeches on Imperial duty and destiny would be an invaluable treasure for young generations: but these can never be recalled, for only extracts are buried away in newspaper files. A memorial sermon he preached on Russell and Berry and Forsyth, Avho lie in South African graves, stirred the hearts of his hearers as the utterances of few men could have done.

About two years back the Dean broke down in health, and he visited the scenes of his student days. The trip benefited him greatly, and he resumed his duties at Napier with renewed vigour. Lately, however, his health gave way again, and he was given extended leave. This he was passing at Ormondville, a place he had often visited before, and where, amidst the bracing air from the Ruahines and the surroundings of a quiet country life, he usually found much relaxation. Dean Hovel 1 was a prominent Mason. He had for a long time been chaplain to Scinde Lodge, and he had also held office in the Grand Lodge. When Bishop Stuart resigned the See of Waiapu, the Dean missed the succession by a narrow margin of votes. He was also in the final ballot for the Bishopric of Wellington. In recent years the Anglican Church in New Zealand has suffered no keener loss. It could ill afford to lose a man of his sympathetic, dominant personality. A man

in every sense of the word, to know him was to esteem him.