"What message can this man bring to me? Surely he too comes from God, our Father, and may bring me some message from Him." Perhaps you will now see why I like the young and the old: because in my feebleness I can hear their message better.

'Do not think that in our intercourse the teaching was on my side only. Nothing is done in this world save on the basis of exchange. I learned also much from you; and if the truth were told, my sympathies are least perfect with those of your way of thinking because the chances of life have given me least opportunity of seeing them. Therefore let me see you some more: let me know from time to time how you fare, and believe that my interest in you is sincerely felt.' To Miss Ella Pease

'February 10, 1881.

'I think I shall have to stir you up on another point, viz. letter writing. You have not yet begun to cultivate it as a fine art. Yet such it is. . . . To be a good letter writer one must of course be egotistical. Letters are not history, nor are they essays, but they are jottings of small things as they strike oneself: records of one's own impressions and they owe all their interest to the belief that the person to whom they are addressed is interested, not in things in general, but in oneself. . . . In talking or letter writing all depends on giving oneself rein: if one stops to be judicious or wise or discreet, one simply becomes dull. If I can't trust the person I am talking to with all I think, I am simply bored by the conversation, and would much rather read a book. My enemies would say, I was too confidential: be it so: I

am content.'

To J. R. Thursfield

'Embleton Vicarage: February 17, 1881.

'Dear Dick,-I write to set your mind at ease. I did not write the article on Fyffe in the "Athenæum;" I have not seen it. I never wrote an ill-natured article about anybody in my life; and I never review the book of anyone I know unless I am conscientiously prepared to praise it on the whole. I have sent many books back to editors, saying that I know the writers, and think their books rubbish, and don't think that I am the right man to say so.

'I have just written to Pease at Newcastle to suggest that he should get on foot a great national meeting to make Cowen dictator for five years in England, and Parnell for the same time in Ireland. They seem to know all about everything so much better than anybody else, that it is a pity their fine talents should be wasted. . . .'

To Mr. Albert Grey (now Earl Grey)

'Embleton Vicarage: May 14, 1880.

'Dear Grey,-Thank you for sending me the Report of the Church Reform Union, which I have read carefully and meditated upon. I cordially agree with most of it, and would like it all to be largely discussed; but it seems to me that it will take a long time before any part of it becomes immediately practical. The question arises, who ought to take the lead in educating public opinion, the clergy or the laity? I think the laity. I think the questions are all questions for the laity, and not for the clergy. The matter stands thus. The relations of a branch of the public service towards the public need readjustment. I think that the attitude of the members of that branch of the service ought to be one of readiness to hear and meet the popular demands, but I think they ought not to take the initiative. None of the grievances are grievances that weigh heavily on me; but I am quite ready to help to remedy them if they are declared to be grievances by the laity, and I should think their statement that these grievances existed was a reasonable one.

'The position of a working clergyman who wished to help you, would be stronger if he gave you an independent support. On any of those points if they were practically brought forward, clerical opinion would have to be formed. I might do something to help to form it, if I had not declared myself beforehand; if I were to do so, I should be useless. . . . So you will forgive, me if I do not at present join the Union. If I were a London clergyman with any influence over a mass of laity, it would be different. The great proportion of the objects of the Union do not much affect our country life or ideas.'

To the Bishop of Colombo (Dr. Copleston)

'Embleton Vicarage: June 16, 1881.

'My dear Copleston,-I was delighted to get your letter. I thought that an insignificant person like myself had sunk from episcopal remembrance, and was most delighted that it was not so. You will naturally say, "Why, then, did you not answer sooner ?" Alas! your letter reached Embleton just after my departure for a six weeks' holiday in Italy, during which communication with me was suspended. We have just returned home. Though I have not heard from you, I have heard of you occasionally from Talbot. I never read the newspapers concerning you, for I knew beforehand that you were right. Why, therefore, should I read those who gainsaid it?

'It is very nice to me to find that you have not forgotten me, also to my wife, for you must know that you are one of her idols, and we often talk of you. But it is hard to envisage you at Ceylon; to us you remain the pre-colonial Copleston. Do you mind?

:

'The course of things goes on peaceably with us, though very busily. I seem to live in a whirl and am always full of business. A parish supplies much to do and think of: my interest in drains and paupers has now made me the chief person in our local self-governing bodies of Guardians and Sanitary Boards and Education Boards. As Rural Dean I have much to do and find the older clergy very difficult to stir up. Under Bishop Baring we never had any common life he distrusted his clergy and thought that when two or three were gathered together they were sure to make fools of themselves. Probably he was right, but he did not draw the obvious moral that they must go on doing it till they learned not to do it. Under him we had no rural dean at all; he thought us too abominable. Consequently the old folks have all learned to look upon themselves as such. Besides these avocations I spend such leisure as I have in reading and writing (sums I have omitted, they were never my strong point). I have been busy ever since I came here on a general history of the Papacy and the Reformation, considering that the British public are profoundly uninformed on that point and have no real notion what the Reformation Perhaps they don't want to know: however, it amuses me, and that is the main point.

'I spent two days at Oxford on my way home: Brodrick was most beaming: he is a good old soul and will be a useful sort of man in Oxford. Talbot also flourished and diffused mild wisdom on every side: his only fault is that he carries fairness of mind almost to a vice: no one can be so fair as he talks. Freeling was as excellent and as inarticulate as ever. Mrs. Talbot looks younger and more charming than ever. Of Merton otherwise I saw little: the generation that knows not Joseph has speedily arisen. . . . Saintsbury, as you know, is the literary dictator of minor poets and novelists: they bend before him and he scourges them at his will. . . . These scraps of information are somewhat disjointed, but I have to give a résumé of all things to one whom I have not seen so long..

Things in general are not good: England is not healthy: she is going through a process of economical readjustment of which no one can see the end: it may result in the development of new forces, or it may be the beginning of a quiet

All this sorely

decay-not decay exactly, but subsidence. exercises the mind of the spectator and fills him with wonder. Trade and agriculture cannot any longer go on the old lines: will they find new lines or will they collapse? Already I see the doctrine of protection taking a strong hold of the mind of separate classes. I believe that separate interests will coalesce against the public good and against the voice of wisdom. This, by bringing in a fallacious solution, will suspend the real settlement of the question and make a mess. No great mess-that would be better, as then something might be done to remedy it: but may we not live to see the relations of the world strangely changed? I am becoming old and pessimistic: I must end. My wife sends her very kindest love. Do write again when you have time. 'Your ever affectionate

'M. CREIGHTON.'

CHAPTER VIII

LAST YEARS AT EMBLETON: 1882-1884

IN September 1881 Creighton was able to write to Mr. Longman: The first two volumes of my book, "The Papacy of the Reformation Epoch," are almost ready.' Life in the country had given him some of the increased leisure which he wanted, but it was inevitable that duties should grow around a man of such varied activities and powers. He had the tastes and instincts of a student, and would have been absolutely happy in a student's life. But though he never put himself forward, when asked to do something his inclination always was to agree; he could not learn to say no. One of his pupils remembers asking him in 1881 if he would like to be a Bishop, and his answer: 'No, I should not; but if I were offered a Bishopric, I have no doubt I should take it, as I always do what I am asked.' His practical capacity made him do anything he undertook so well that he was invariably asked to do more, and in consequence the life of a student and a recluse was impossible for him. But amid all distractions he worked on steadily at his book. He would sit in his study surrounded by his big folios, in the summer time with pupils at work in the same room. One of them remembers how he would every now and then burst out with a vivid description of some incident he had come across, or would take down a volume from the bookshelves and read aloud a racy letter of Æneas Sylvius Piccolomini, or a sonnet of Lorenzo the Magnificent, translating them into vigorous English as he went. He never objected to interruptions. His pupils might ask him questions, or his children come in for a Greek or Latin lesson, or a parishioner ask for an interview, and he would lay down his pen to attend to whatever was wanted from him, and then return to his work apparently