TWO REMARKABLE MEN LOST TO US.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXII, Issue 52, 2 March 1901, Page 3 (Supplement)

TWO REMARKABLE MEN LOST TO US.

REMINISCENCES OP BOTH

(From Our Special C'orre.pouueat.)

LONDON, January 18

BISHOP CREIGHTON

KILLED BY OVERWORK AT 57.

almost simultaneously on Monday last the greatest of English Bishops and the mightiest of English money lenders breathed their last, the one jn Fulham Palace, the other in Grosvenor Square. Both were exceptionally capable men of whom the old platitude that we shall never see their like again may be repeated with

more than usual veracity. Pr. Mandell Creighton was born, ii' not with a silver spoon in his mouth, certainly with the priceless gift ol! absorbing wisdom. Be began to disnlav a ' capacity for learning and for capturing prizes and scholarships of a jl sorts at a very early age, and when he went up to Oxford (where amongst many other distinctions he took a double first) young Creighton was already marked out for a distinguished career. The bend of his college, Warden Marsham, wrote then: "That shrewd, canny, thoughtful North countryman, whom Durham School sent up to us. will go very far indeed before he reaches even the middle point of his career. As he has resolved upon the Church he will assuredly get any prize for which he may have a liking in it; for he makes (just that use of his opportunities which -shows the man who understands what a University is meant for, and what is the exact good he can obtain from it. Above all, he does not fritter away his time on newspaper reading or on Union dehates, though I daresay he could write leading articles for one, and I am sure he could wipe out most debaters in the other."

After a brilliant career at College "Mandell Creighton was ordained and presently given the remote living of Embleton in Northumberland. This would have meant extinction to many Oxford dons; Creighton found in it his opportunity and historical works poured from his pen and made him famous. Bishop Lightfoot, recognising his powers, appointed him in 1879 to the Rural Deanery of Alnwick, and on the formation of the See of Newcastle, he was made Examining Chaplain to Bishop Wilberforce and Hon. Canon of Newcastle. The catalogue of his honours from that time forward is very full. He had published in quick succession at the rate of at least one notable book a year his historical studies, "The Primer of Roman History," "The Age of Eliza- ; beth," "The Life of Simon De Montfort," aud "The Primer of English History." In 1882 appeared the iirst of the five volumes which constitute his greatest but uncompleted historical work, "The History of the Papacy. During the Period of the Reformation." The Universities, in recognition of this work, began to shower honorary degrees upon him. A chair in Ecclesiastical History in the University of Cambridge being founded in 1884, it was promptly offered to and accepted by Canon Creighton. In the following 1 year he was appointed Canon Residentiary of Worcester. The volumes of the great work kept coming out, and their author kept coming up. He would have liked to stop short at the Canonry of Windsor which was offered to him in 1890, but: the see of Peterborough fell vacant, I and, as he related himself sometime after, he had to take it. Said His Lordship: "There could not possibly be anything more ghastly from a human point of view than being a bishop. You can never please anybody. I was told I ought to be a bishop and believed it was God's will, and we are bound to keep moving on wherever God's will leads us; we have no choice to do anything else. When I was offered Peterborough, I went to Dr. Hort. He said, 'You are strong and wiry, and you'll make a good bishop; take it.' I went to a dear old bishop at Oxford. He peered tip at me and said, 'You will be good at organisation, and will be a good bishop f take it.' I had been given a canonry at Windsor, where I could have had intellectual work at Oxford, and practical work at the same time, and have been quite busy enough. But I went to Peterborough. Yes, I was very happy there. The clergy? Oh, the dear clergy. I think England the most extraordinary country in the world, and its clergy the most extraordinary people in it. The , c lergy averagely do an immense ; amount of work, but they really are the most self-centred, undisciplined, and difficult people I ever came across."

Dr. Creighton was a great success at Peterborough, and when London presently fell vacant he was picked out by all sorts and conditions of men as Dr. .Temple's only possible successor. A writer in the "Daily News" over the initial "C" gives some interesting particulars regarding this appointment. He says:—"lt so happened that the Bishop was stopping wdth me very soon after his appointment to London diocese, but before his departure from Peterborough. On the morning that he was leaving two letters reached me containing references to Dr. | Creighton. One was from a Northamptonshire Salvation Army official, in which he said: 'I went to hear our Bishop last week at the Confirmation. He spoke so nicely to the children; 1 nm sorry he is leaving us ' The letter was'handed to the Bishop, with an intimation as to the religious creed of the writer.

' Ah!' said ho, 'that's just as it should be—our Bishop, our Bishop; dear fellow, it's one of the kindest things that anyone has said of me.' The next letter, which was from a well-known literary man in the North of England, after commenting on the recently-announced translation of Dr. Creighton from Peterborough to London, concluded thus: 'He is bound to rise, and well deserves it; in this case It simply means "change here for Canterbury.'" As the Bishop read this he became very grave, and said after a little pause: 'How speculative the English are! Change here for Canterbury, indeed! Par more likely,

with all the work before one. change here foe another world!' And pre-

sently he added: 'That great, wicked London; it's a terrible responsibility. and it will be such a contrast to my peaceful Peterborough. I had considerable doubts as to my fitness and capabilities for a bishopric when Peterborough was offered, and look some time over my decision: but in this case, notwithstanding its burdens, 1 decided at once'

Then he took from his pocket and showed me tho autograph letter of the "Marquis of Salisbury offering him London, saying that such a letter made refusal impossible, and adding that if he. was a failure the blame would rest with the Premier. The phrases of that letter cleave to my memory, and I believe I could reproduce it almost word for word; hut that would, of course, be unpardonable on my part. Perhaps the letter, so creditable to the writer, and so appreciative, not only of the capacities but of the high principles of the one to whom it was addressed, may eventually be printed in some biography of the future."

Dr. Creighton took hold of the reins in London at a very difficult time. The High Church controversy was raging, and many suspected the new Bishop of Romanist leanings.

True, in all aids and word.- he was known to be the broadest and most liberal of Churchmen, but did he not always wear a jewelled cross round his neck? It was this "unholy trinket" caused the mountebank Kensit to create a scene at Dr. Creighton's confirmation al St. Mary-le-Bow, where the fellow arose accusing the new prelate of endeavouring to "undo the work of our glorious Reformation," of "re-introducing the trinklets of Rome," and so forth. On Mr Kensit's own testimony, the Bishop shook hands with him very kindly after the service, when he introduced himself as the protester and explained that he was a lay worker in the diocese. The Bishop said it was all right; they would soon be friends. And had Kensit been honest they would have been.

The late Bishop, says the writer of an obituary notice, "had no affectation of saintliness himself, and was not much disposed to tolerate it in others. Genuine, simple piety he believed in, of course. It was only caul and humbug, the affectation of being something more than your temperament allowed you to be, the earnest endeavour to be a hypocrite from a sense of duty, that excited his contempt. It was a contempt, by the way, that was mainly expressed in humour, for as Mr Escott said of him. he had an imperturbable calm of manner, and it was this imperturbability under any provocations, personal or theological, united in him with the impression of intellectual strength, that constituted the chief source of his commanding power at Oxford, and the magnetic quality in their diocesan of which the Loudon clergy were conscious when occasion arose to approach the library of Fulham Palace. The kind humour which he brought to bear upon cant is illustrated by a story, which we repeat as told in our own columns by an old Mertonian some five years ago. 1 remember hearing of his answer, when Vicar of Embleton, to an application for the curacy of that parish sent in by a young man who, having set forth in no measured terms his own qualifications for the post, wound up by declaring that he felt that "a great door and effectual was opened unto him of the Lord"' at Embleton. The answer was to the effect that Mr Creighton was sorry to find himself under the necessity of closing the door which Mr So-andso felt had been "opened of the Lord." I cannot vouch for the truth of this slory, but

it is at any rate ben trovato.''

Very different was Dr. Creighton's appreciation of unaffected piety. He said to an interviewer: "A man's preaching power on Sunday is greatly estimated by his working power in the week. An artisan once said to me, when I remarked that his vicar was not a great preacher, "No, sir; but when our parson says God is good, there's a smile on his face makes us believe it, even though he mayn't be a good preacher." Dr. Creighton had a caustic tongue, of which erring clergy had good reason to be afraid. Occasionally, however, he found his match. During a tour of inspection the Bishop once paid a visit to Father Stanton's Church, St. Alban's, High Holborn. The service was not quite to his liking, and immediately it was over he made several attempts to discuss the matter with Father Stanton, who, however, talked so incessantly that the Bishop found it impossible to get in a word. When seated in his carriage, however, he found an opportunity to say, "I like your service, Stanton, but I don't like your incense." "Very sorry, my lord, very sorry," submissively responded Father Stanton, "but it's the best I can get for 3/6 a pound." Overwork killed the Bishop of London. He had not only no leisure for the literary pursuits he loved, but he could hardly ever overtake his day's work. In August last he broke clown and bad abdominal trouble set in. Operations followed, from one of which his lordship recovered. But he had not strength to rally from a second, and, growing weaker and weaker, passed away soon after noon on Monday. Bishop Creighton is reported to have said that if he had to write his own epitaph it should be:

" HE TRIED TO WRITE TRUE HISTORY."

If there were any for whom the late Bishop had a burning contempt, it was those who, pretending to write history, suppress facts that clash with their prejudices or theories. To a young man writing a short historical treatise for the. Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge on a controversial subject, who sought his guidance two years ago, Bishop Creighton said: " Suppress nothing, and don't generalise or form your theories until you have a good grasp of all your facts." Mr. Kensit's protest at his consecration (referred to above) evidently much amused the Bishop, who, meeting' Mr. Kensit afterwards in the church porch, shook hands with him, and said. "We shall be good friends yet." The Bishop did what he could to promote friendly relations, and lie even went so far as to invite Mr. Kensit and his Protestant Defence Brigade to tea at Fulham Palace. This was regarded by many as the Bishop's firstblunder.

The Bishop once described himself as leaving- Fttlbam Palace every morning by an early train, and not returning until late in the evening. A record, which he kept in 1897, showed that in the twelve months he delivered 288 sermons, speeches, and other addresses. His letters averaged nearly 20,000 a year, and interviews, not all

pleasant ones by any means, were innumerable, tic could joke even about his over-work, lie once said that be had many calls upon his time, thai be must draw the line somewhere, and he drew it at being asked to "bless hassocks." Not very long- ago he told an interviewer that he was never in debt until lie became Bishop of London, since he was " the merest distributing agent " of his salary. The " Times"' biography closes thus: "He hud his faults, but/ they were mostly on the surface. was too brilliant a Bishop, too versatile for a mere ecclesiastic, too quick-witted for the dull, too flippant at times for (lie solemn and * unco quid.' But at heart he was true, tender, and wise; his religion was of the soul, not of the lips; his spiritual aims were lofty and large-minded, albeit sometimes far withdrawn; and, take him for all in all, the Church will not soon nor often look upon his like again."