The Bishop of London, who died on Monday after a
long and painful illness, might fairly be called a man of great promise as well as achievement, for he was only fifty-seven. Though he spent ten years on leaving Oxford as rector of a small Northumberland living, Dr. Creighton was a marked man from the very outset by a combination of qualities, practical, intellectual, and social, which would have secured him eminence in almost any career he had chosen to adopt. After 1880 recognition and preferment came thick and fast, Successively Professor at Cambridge, Canon of Worcester, and Bishop of Peterborough, he was translated to the See of London just four years ago, and bidding a reluctant farewell to his historical studies, threw himself into the labours of his diocese with a conscientiousness and energy that surprised his friends, conciliated his critics, and in all probability shortened his life. He seemed to exhibit at times a certain intellectual intolerance natural enough in a very brilliant mind, his love of paradox bewildered plain people, and his frank avowal of the irksomeness of his position scandalised the devout. But if he found stupidity trying, he detested cant, and those who knew him well enough to penetrate the superficial cynicism he loved to assume, found him sincere, sympathetic, and religious at heart. His loss is especially to be deplored at the present juncture, for he exerted a dis- tinctly mediating influence.
Previous page
