Volume 53 — THE BRITISH QUARTERLY APRIL 1871 (continued 2)

In the 'Story of Genesis and Exodus,'[174] the author has versified the most important facts contained in those books, and has included portions of Numbers and Deuteronomy, so as to give a complete history of the wanderings of the Israelites, and the life of their leader Moses. The poet (of whom nothing is known) invokes the aid of the Deity in these terms:—

He then goes on to relate, in a spirited manner, the chief incidents of the Bible narrative. Lamech's bigamy is thus referred to:—

To bigamy is afterwards added murder:—

The author thinks that Christian men ought to be as glad as birds are of dawn, to hear the story of man's bliss and sorrow.

'Seinte Marherete,'[179] is the first of a triad of saints' lives, to be edited for the Society, the other two (St. Juliane and St. Katherine) are still to come. The editor is Mr. Cockayne, whose observations are always worth a hearing, although they are of a very pugnacious character. In 'Hali Meidenhad,'[180] he expresses great offence at the opinions of his author, whose attacks on wedlock he takes very much to heart. We find in the side-notes such expressions as these—'highflying notions,' 'this ranter.' The anonymous author of the treatise is supposed by Mr. Cockayne to have been a bishop, and the same as he who wrote the three saints' lives, and the 'Ancren Riwle.' Whoever he was, he writes with considerable vigour, and describes the troubles of wives with great goodwill. The maiden is to ask the queens, rich countesses, and saucy ladies as to their mode of life. 'Truly, truly, if they rightly bethink themselves and acknowlege the truth, I shall have them witnesses that they are licking honey off thorns. They buy all the sweetness with two proportions of bitter.' A husband is held up before the maiden's eyes in these unfavourable colours:—'While he is at home, thy wide walls seem too narrow for thee; his looking on thee makes thee aghast; his loathesome voice and his rude grumbling fill thee with horror. He chideth and jaweth thee, and he insults thee shamefully; he maketh mock at thee; he beateth thee and mawleth thee as his bought thrall and patrimonial slave. Thy bones ake, and thy flesh smarteth, thy heart within thee swelleth of sore rage, and thy face externally burneth with vexation.' It shows how much outspoken language has gone out of fashion, that the author thinks it necessary to put into Latin certain of the passages which a bishop addressed to some young nuns. Mr. Furnivall has unearthed from the Vernon MS. a later essay on the same subject, entitled 'Clene Maydenhood,' in which the author adjures young women to bind Christ in their hearts, because man's love is never constant.

'Havelok the Dane,[181] is one of the best—if not the very best—of early romances, and we are indebted to the Society for bringing it within the reach of the ordinary reader. It was first edited, in 1828, by Sir Frederic Madden, for the Roxburghe Club, but since that time it has been almost unattainable on account of its scarceness and consequent high price. The story, like most of the romances, is a version taken from an original, written in French. Two kings, of England and Denmark, die, and each leaves his child to the care of a steward, who uses it badly. Grim, the founder of Grimsby, saves the life of Havelok, the son of the King of Denmark, and comes with him to England, where the boy grows up stalwart, and becomes the strongest man alive, putting the stone twelve feet beyond his companions. Havelok marries Goldborough, 'the fairest woman alive,' who was the daughter of the dead King of England. The two go to Denmark and drive the usurper from the throne, after which they return to England, and conquer the English usurper. They reign for sixty years, and fifteen children are born to them, who all become kings and queens. Havelok's first acts, on his return to England, were to found a priory of black monks in Grimsby, for the good of his old friend Grim's soul, and to marry Grim's daughters to two of his courtiers. 'King Horn,'[182] another romance of the thirteenth century, is of English origin. Horn, the son of the King of a place called Suddene, who had been killed by the Saracens, reaches the country of a neighbouring king with his companions, and is loved by that king's daughter. The king finds out the attachment, and banishes Horn, who travels to another kingdom, and conquers a formidable giant. After this, he returns to Westernesse and claims his lady love. Various troubles succeed; but, in the end, Horn returns to take possession of the ancestral throne of Sudden.

We now pass to the fourteenth-century texts; and here we find the most important work that the Society has attempted, which is a three-text edition (under the able editorship of Mr. Skeat) of the most valuable work in early English literature before Chaucer, viz., 'The Vision of Piers Plowman.'[183] This great 'Puritan' poem was very popular for many years, and a large number of MSS. of it have come down to us. These differ very much, and it appears that the author, William Langland, was induced by the popularity of this work to produce at various times what may be called, for want of a better term, three editions. These are represented by—1, the Vernon MS.; 2, the copy printed by Robert Crowley, in 1550; and 3, that printed by Dr. Whitaker, in 1813; and all the MSS. at present known can be ranged under one or other of these types. Before commencing the great work of producing a worthy edition of this great classic, the Society was anxious to have as much information concerning the MSS. as it could obtain, and in 1866 issued Parallel Extracts of twenty-nine MSS., asking, at the same time, that librarians or possessors of libraries would communicate to the Society's editor the discovery of other MSS. not noticed in these extracts, as the committee believed that many valuable ones might have remained unknown. In the following year Text A, from the Vernon MS., appeared. This only extends to eleven passus, or less than half of the whole poem, as subsequently written. The author is very severe upon the vices of his day, and in scourging them he gives us a valuable insight into the domestic life of the time.

The poem is divided into two parts, the 'Vision of Piers the Plowman,' and the 'Vision of Do-well, Do-bet, and Do-best.' In the first, the author describes how he fell asleep on the Malvern Hills, and saw, in a dream, much to displease him. The world is represented by a field full of folk, among whom are ploughmen, spendthrifts, hermits, minstrels, beggars, pilgrims, friars, a pardoner with bulls, law-serjeants, bishops, and all kinds of craftsmen. Holy Church comes to the author as a lovely lady, and points out to him Falsehood, Bribery, Simony, and Flattery. The King makes up his mind to punish Falsehood, if he can catch him; but that delinquent flees, and takes refuge with the friars, who pity him and take him under their protection. The king then appeals to Reason, but he will not take pity on wrong until lords and ladies love truth, rioters are holy clerks, knights are courteous, and priests practise what they preach. The author awakes, but soon dreams again. Conscience preaches, and is seconded by Repentance in his endeavours to convert the deadly sins. The preaching has great effect, and all set out on a pilgrimage to find Truth; but no one knows the way, and a Palmer who has returned from the Holy Sepulchre, and met many saints, knows nothing of Truth. They now meet Piers the Ploughman, who directs them to the way, and promises to guide them when he has ploughed his half-acre; meantime he sets them to work. At first, the people will not work till hunger comes in, and then they agree to do whatever Piers wills. All the names of persons introduced into the poem tell their own story, thus Piers's wife is called Work when time is, his daughter, Do as you are bid, and his son, Obey your king. In the second part, Do-well is to fear God, Do-bet to suffer, Do-best to be lowly of heart. All the allegory of the poem is very palpable, and at times tedious; but the incidental allusions to the state of the people are of the greatest interest. The author appears to have felt strongly the responsibility of his position as a preacher, and the contempt he evinces for the small value of the Pope's pardon, shows us that in the middle ages a purer Christianity was occasionally preached than we are often apt to imagine. Langland lays great stress on the law of love, and shows the infinite superiority of a life of righteousness over a mere trust in indulgences. Mr. Skeat says of him: 'He shows himself to us a man of simple, noble, and pure faith, the friend of the poor, the adviser of the rich, with strong views on the duties of a king toward his subjects, together with a feeling of deep reverence for the kingly character, fearless, unprejudiced, and ever willing to be taught.'

'Pierce the Ploughman's Crede'[184] is not written by the same author as the 'Vision,' but is an imitation of it by some one who was glad to avail himself of the popularity of that work. It is thus analyzed by Alexander Pope:—

'An ignorant plain man, having learned his Paternoster and Ave Mary, wants to learn his creed. He asks several religious men of the several orders to teach it him. First, of a friar Minor, who bids him beware of the Carmelites, and assures him that they can teach him nothing, describing their faults, &c., but that the friars Minor shall save him whether he learns his creed or not. He goes next to the friars Preachers, whose magnificent monastery he describes; there he meets a fat friar, who declaims against the Augustines. He is shocked at his pride, and goes to the Augustines. They rail at the Minorites. He goes to the Carmelites; they abuse the Dominicans, but promise him salvation without the creed for money. He leaves them with indignation, and finds an honest poor Plowman in the field, and tells him how he was disappointed, by the four orders. The ploughman answers with a long invective against them.'

Mr. Skeat has followed manuscripts in his edition which had been previously neglected. Dr. Whitaker and Mr. Wright printed from the first edition of 1553, but the British Museum MS. is older than this, and there can be little doubt that both the MSS. and the printed copy are all copied from a MS. now lost or not forthcoming.

The next work we shall mention is a translation of a French treatise on sins and virtues into the homely English of Kent. It is called the 'Ayenbite of Inwyt,'[185] two old and expressive words which are now completely lost to us, and superseded by remorse and conscience. The book was written for the benefit of laymen, in order that fathers and mothers might keep their consciences undefiled. There is a very full account of sins, and the morality preached is very strict, for backgammon and chess are placed among foul and forbidden games. This text had been previously edited by Mr. Stevenson for the Roxburghe Club, but in a very careless manner, as is seen by the author's original preface and table of contents being left out. Dr. Richard Morris has remedied these deficiencies, and has prefixed a most valuable grammatical introduction, in which the characteristics of the Southern dialect during the early English period (1250-1340) are pointed out.

The late Mr. Toulmin Smith's collection of the statutes of 'English Gilds,'[186] in the 14th and 15th centuries, is one of the most valuable works issued by the Society, as its interest is so wide as to include both the past and the present. The study of the societies of the olden times gives us a deep insight into the domestic and municipal life that has been so much neglected by historians, and throws a strong light upon the present condition of the working classes as developed in the trades' unions.

A life and coherency has been put into the dead bones of dry statutes by the valuable essay on the subject by Dr. Lujo Brentano, which is the first and only 'History of Gilds' in English, and comprises the Continental Gilds as well as our own. Mr. Toulmin Smith unfortunately died before the work was completed, but his daughter, with filial piety, has worked at the completion of her father's design, and the result is a book that forms a worthy monument to an able and good man.

The 'Early English Alliterative Poems'[187] consist of the 'Pearl,' 'Cleanness,' and 'Patience.' The first poem is an allegory of great beauty, in which resignation to the will of God is enforced. The writer has lost a daughter of two years old, and he dreams of gleaming rocks, crystal cliffs, and silver trees, and sees his child in bliss on the opposite side of a stream. The second poem is a collection of Biblical stories tending to enforce purity of life, and the third is a paraphrase of the Book of Jonah. All three show the author to have possessed much poetic power.

'William and the Werwolf'[188] was edited by Sir Frederic Madden, in 1832, for the Roxburghe Club, but his edition had become very scarce before the Early English Text Society undertook its publication as the first text for their Extra Series. Mr. Skeat, who has edited this edition, has wisely changed the name of the English romance to William of Palerne, because it is a translation of the French 'Guillaume de Palerne,' and has been able to fill up the missing parts of the English version from the French MS., portions of which were supplied to him by M. Michelant, of the Imperial Library at Paris. The story is as follows:—William, the son of the King of Apulia, is about to be murdered by his uncle, when he is carried off by a wolf, who is found subsequently to be a werwolf or manwolf, enchanted by his stepmother. William is adopted by a cowherd, and afterwards taken into his household by the Emperor of Rome, whose daughter falls in love with the boy. To save herself from being married to another prince, Melior leaves the palace with William, both of them being disguised as bears. They are taken care of by the werwolf, and afterwards re-disguise themselves as a hart and hind. William performs marvels, taking the werwolf's step-mother a prisoner, and only releasing her on condition that the werwolf shall be disenchanted. All ends happily, with several marriages as a climax.

We have not yet referred to the great cycle of Arthurian romances, which have lately been brought so prominently before the reading public by the charming poems of the Poet Laureate. Most of these romances were introduced to an English public in the 15th century, but some are of an earlier date. 'Sir Gawayne and the Green Knight'[189] is one of these last, and appears to have been written by the author of the 'Alliterative Poems' previously mentioned. Sir Gawayne, the matchless and faultless son of Loth, was one of the leading spirits in his uncle's court, and the present text contains one of the most interesting incidents in his career. While Arthur is holding a Christmas festival at Camelot, a knight of gigantic stature, clothed entirely in green and riding on a green foal, enters the hall. He carries an axe, sharp as a razor, and asks that some one should strike him with it, on condition that he may return the stroke at the end of a year. All are silent. Arthur accepts the challenge, but Gawayne beseeches his uncle to allow him to undertake the encounter, and the king consents. The Green Knight adjusts himself, and after Gawayne has struck off his head, walks off with it under his arm. The company feel more comfortable after his departure, but the year soon comes to an end, when Gawayne must travel to seek the Knight of the Green Chapel. After many adventures, Gawayne comes to the loveliest castle ever beheld, where he is welcomed warmly. The lord (who is the Green Knight in a more ordinary costume than that he had before adopted) treats him nobly, and tells him that he will direct him to the Green Chapel. The two make a covenant between them that the lord shall go to the chase and Gawayne stay at home, and at the end of the day give each other what they have got in the meantime. On the first day the hostess tempts Gawayne, but he is proof against her charms, and she leaves him with a kiss, which he gives the host at night; on the second day she does the same and gives him two kisses, which he gives to his host; the third time Gawayne is again tempted and receives three kisses, and a girdle of green lace that will preserve whoever wears it from wound or death. At night Gawayne gives the kisses but keeps the girdle. On the morrow, after much trouble, he finds the Green Chapel, from which the Green Knight comes out, and makes a feint to strike him. The Knight pretends to strike again, and the third time he brings blood, when he explains his conduct to Gawayne thus:—'Two blows I aimed at thee, for twice thou kissedst my fair wife, but I struck thee not, because thou restoredest them to me according to agreement. At the third time thou failedst, and therefore I have given thee that tap.' The Green Knight, who is Bernlak de Hautdesert, now tells Gawayne that his aunt, Morgain la Fay, lives at his castle, and presses his friend to return with him, but Gawayne will not, as he wishes to return to Arthur's court. Here he is received with joy, and all the knights wear a green belt in his honour. The author tells all this, which we have been obliged to relate in the baldest manner, with great spirit and vivacity; and in the midst of his story he gives lively accounts of boar and fox hunts, which display a wonderful mastery over language. Another of the prominent knights of Arthur's court was Lancelot of the Laik.[190] His adventures are related in a short romance paraphrased into the Scottish dialect from a part of the long French 'Lancelot.' The author is in love and dares not tell it, but dreams that he should write a poem for his lady love to read. He does not know what to write about until he thinks of the romance of 'Lancelot,' when he runs over rapidly an enumeration of that knight's early deeds by way of saying that he will not tell of them. He then commences in earnest with the wars between Arthur and Galiot. A knight brings a message from King Galiot, bidding Arthur to yield to him or he will invade his land and not return until he has conquered and taken Queen Guinevere prisoner. Arthur returns the defiance, but on asking Gawayne who Galiot is, he learns that ten kings obey him. At this time Lancelot is imprisoned by the lady of Melyhalt, and laments his fate, but as he hears of a battle between Arthur and Galiot, he obtains leave from the lady to join Arthur on condition that he returns to his prison at night. The lady provides him with a red courser, and red shield and spear, and he goes to the fight, where he performs wonders, and sees the queen, with whom he falls in love. He returns to prison, where the lady visits him, and is smitten with love. She goes to court, and returns after being sumptuously entertained. She now promises to let Lancelot go on one of three conditions—either he must tell whom he loves, or declare his name, or say if he expects again to equal his former exploits. He refuses to tell his lady's name, or his own, but declares his trust to do more than he has done before.

The lady of Melyhalt asks Lancelot to remain with her till the next battle, when she will provide him with black armour. Arthur's forces are led in the fight by Gawayne, who is severely wounded. Lancelot joins in the battle on the third day, and laments over Gawayne, but he does not waste time in regrets; for on all the ladies, with the exception of the queen, sending him a message, he overthrows several knights, and does great damage to the enemy. At last, on Gawayne's instigation, the queen sends him a message, the receipt of which affects him so much that he seems to grow a foot in height, and nothing can withstand him, as he goes into the thick of the fight. His foes leave the place in mortal fear at the sight of him; for whilst his thoughts are of his lady's love he achieves unheard-of-wonders. At last he is borne to the earth, and Galiot, who has seen his powers, says he shall not die on his account, and gives him his horse. Here the Scottish romance closes, and the rest of the story is only to be learnt from the French original. Gawayne swoons when he sees Lancelot with Galiot; but the latter is induced by Lancelot, although he is conquering, to submit to Arthur. When all are friends, Galiot and Arthur go to see the wounded Gawayne, and then they speak of Lancelot. Gawayne says that he would wish to be a woman, if Lancelot would love him all his life. The queen seems to approve of the sentiment, for she admits that she can say no more. Now the serious part of the story commences, for the queen, through the instrumentality of Galiot, visits Lancelot, and promises to love him. She takes counsel with the lady of Melyhalt, and after a general understanding they all part, with hopes of soon meeting again.

Mr. Furnivall has printed a short and rapid sketch of the life and wars of Arthur,[191] king of men, which occurs in an incomplete Latin 'Chronicle of the Kings of Britain,' belonging to the Marquis of Bath. The author seems to have got excited, and found dull Latin prose unequal to his feelings, so he breaks out into English verse. There are many spirited and lively sketches in the Lincoln 'Morte Arthure,'[192] which was first printed by Mr. Halliwell, in 1847. It opens with a general statement of Arthur's conquests, and then proceeds with the account of the summons from the Emperor Lucius. When Arthur hears it, his face is so terrible that the Romans who bring the letter quail before him. The king has a magnificent feast prepared, at which boars' heads are served upon silver, and peacocks and plovers upon golden plates. There are also sucking pigs, herons in sauce, huge swans, cranes, and curlews, tarts and conserves, hams and brawn in slices, wild geese and ducks, young hawks, stews, curries, and all kinds of made dishes. So much for the food; and the drinks are on as grand a scale of magnificence. Wine of various kinds is made to run in silver conduits, and the rare sorts are served by the chief butler in goblets of gold, decked with precious stones, in order to preserve the drinkers from the deadly effects of poison. All this grandeur astonishes the Roman senator, who allows that Rome itself could show nothing equal to this luxurious feast. Arthur sends a grand message to the Roman emperor, in which he threatens to throw down the walls of Milan, ravage Tuscany, and besiege Rome. All these big words seem to have frightened the Roman senator, for he prays to be protected on his homeward journey; and Arthur tells him that if his coffers were crammed full of silver, he would be quite safe with a passport from him. Nevertheless, the Romans were glad to get away, and

In the great battle that follows, Lucius's army is preceded by sixty giants, born of fiends and witches, riding on tower-bearing camels. In spite of all this, Arthur is victorious, and sends the body of the emperor, whom Lancelot had killed, to Rome, as his arrears of tribute. Other battles[193] succeed this, till Arthur learns of the villany of his bastard son, Mordred, when he at once sets out for Britain, and he might well say with Edgar—

Gawayne, always rash, fights Mordred like a madman, and is slain in the deadly struggle. Thus dies the merriest, the kindliest, and the bravest of knights—he who was the hardiest of hand, the happiest in arms, and the most polished in hall. Now all grows dark, and the end begins to close upon all. Arthur finds the dead body of his nephew, and his great grief is beautifully exhibited in the following description:—

Arthur now, with his 1,800 men, fights desperately against 60,000, and is successful in conquering them, and killing Mordred; but what signifies victory, when he has got his death wound, his wife has deserted him, and his friends are dead around him. The great conqueror and pattern of all knightly virtues dies a broken-hearted man, and the grand old story comes to an end. The writer really felt what he was writing about, and the consequence is, that his history stirs our very blood. And not in vigour alone is the writer's power shown; the lines in which he describes a bright morning in spring, and others in which he tells of love, can hardly be beaten by any other early work.

'Merlin'[199] is one of the longest of the romances, and although the whole of the text has been issued in three parts, the work still awaits for its completion Mr. Wheatley's introduction, index, and glossary. It has, however, two interesting essays prefixed—one by Mr. D. W. Nash, who learnedly draws the distinction between Merlin the enchanter and Merlin the bard; and another by Mr. J. S. Stuart Glennie, on the Arthurian localities which he finds in Scotland. The story commences with the miraculous birth of Merlin, and a description of King Vortiger's tower. The various events occur very rapidly at first. Pendragon and Uter defeat Vortiger, and Pendragon becomes king, but soon after he is killed in a battle, and Uter succeeds him, taking his brother's name at the same time as a surname. Uter Pendragon falls in love with Ygerne, the wife of the Duke of Tintagel, and by the help of Merlin he deceives her into receiving him as her husband while the duke is away. This ill-used man is killed in a fight, and the king at once marries Ygerne, who soon after bears him Arthur. Merlin is now very busy, and by his help the child is carried away. When Uter Pendragon dies, Merlin points Arthur out as the heir. He is made king, but the barons revolt against him, and now a long series of battles commence, which are graphically described by the old author. Gawein and the other nephews of Arthur come to him to be knighted, and through their instrumentality the rebel kings are gradually reconciled to their chief, to whom they do homage.

Merlin is enchanted by Nimiane, in a hawthorn bush, in the forest of Brochelond, and Arthur is heavy at heart on account of the long absence of his adviser. Gawein and his fellows go to seek for Merlin, and with the account of their adventures the book is brought to an end.

The 'Romance of the Chevelere Assigne'[200] is a translation of the French poem, 'Chevalier au Signe,' and was formerly edited for the Roxburghe Club by Mr. Utterson. The present editor, Mr. Henry Hucks Gibbs, gives in his preface a description of a curious ivory casket of 14th century workmanship, belonging to Mr. William Gibbs, which illustrates the story.

King Oryens and his queen Beatrice have no child to succeed them, and when one day they see a woman with twins, the queen is unkind enough to revile her. As a punishment, she herself soon afterwards bears six sons and one daughter, each with a silver chain about its neck. The king's mother, Matabryne, gets a man to drown the children, which she replaces by seven whelps, and then bids the king to burn his wife. Marcus, the man employed to take away the children, leaves them in a wood, wrapped up in a blanket, a hind then suckles them, and a hermit takes them home. The forester sees them, and tells Matabryne, who has the eyes of Marcus put out, and employs Malkedras to kill the children, and take away their chains. The man only finds six, as one is with the hermit; but he smites the chains from off these, and the children are turned into swans. The queen gives the chains to a goldsmith to make into a cup, but one chain increases so that half of it does for a cup, and the workman keeps the other five. The poor queen is to be burnt for her crime of bringing forth seven whelps, and a day is fixed for the purpose; but in the meantime, an angel comes to the hermit, and tells him the whole truth, commanding him at the same time to take the child he has with him to court, and have him christened Enyas. The angel counsels the child, who is twelve years old, to say that he will fight for the queen. There is then a great combat, in which right is victorious.

Enyas cuts off the head of Malkedras, and the old queen is burnt instead of the young one, who is unbound. The goldsmith comes forward with the five chains, which being given to the swans, bring them back to their proper form. The unfortunate sixth one, however, is obliged to remain a swan because its chain is irrevocably gone.

The 'Book of the Knight of La Tour Landry'[201] is a very entertaining work, as it gives us a good insight into the condition of woman in the fourteenth century, which cannot be considered as at all satisfactory. The worthy knight set about instructing his three daughters on their various duties, and all his directions are enforced by some tale from the Bible or monkish legends. He employed two clerks and two priests to look up examples and anecdotes for him, and a curious medley is the result of their labours. He seems to have been a credulous man, and a good friend to the priests, for he never fails to uphold their views. He tells us that the Virgin saved the life of an evil woman when she fell into a well, because she fasted on Fridays and Saturdays, and kept herself from sin on those days; but a good woman was lost because she did not confess one sin. He is very severe upon the dressiness of the women, and says that young ladies now often take so long to adorn themselves that they are too late for service. Some ladies who washed their hair in wine and other things, to change its colour, could not get into the church of our Lady until they had cut off their hair. Besides waste of valuable time, much money was thrown away by these ladies, and the knight laments that one woman's dress would have clothed many poor. The worthy man wrote a book for the benefit of his sons, on the same plan as this one for his daughters; but, unfortunately, it has been lost.

'The Wright's Chaste Wife'[202] is really, as it is here styled, 'a merry tale.' A wright or carpenter marries a fair maiden, whose mother can only give, as her portion, a garland of roses, that will keep its colour while she is true to her husband, but will change if she is faithless. The man makes a room in his house, with a trap-door, out of which escape is impossible, and then goes to build a hall for a certain lord. This lord asks the wright about his garland, and thinks he will go to try its efficacy. He gives the wife forty marks, and she tells him to go to the secret chamber, where he drops through the trap-door. He threatens, but his passion is of no avail; and when he is hungry, the woman will give him nothing to eat until he has earned his dinner by work. The steward follows the lord, and gives the woman twenty marks, when he also is sent upstairs, and tumbles through the trap-door. This man won't work until he is very hungry. Next comes the proctor, who also gives the woman twenty marks, and likewise tumbles through the hole prepared for his reception. He very much objects to work, and stands out for a longer time than the others; but at last he is obliged to give in too, and spin for his meal. At last the wright comes home, and wonders at the noise. When he finds out the cause, he asks his wife to let the lord out, but she will not until his lady is sent for. At last all three are set free, and the garland remains as fresh as ever.

This story is a reproduction and improvement of one of the 'Gesta Romanorum,' in which the carpenter gets with his wife a shirt that will never want washing as long as she is faithful to him. In the original story the three lovers are fed on bread and water, and not made to work, as in Adam de Cobsam's poem.

Mr. Furnivall seems to have a special gift for hunting interesting tales and bringing them to earth. His 'Political, Religious, and Love Poems'[203] are a miscellany of good things of various dates; but the 'Babees Book'[204] is a perfect treasure-house of curiosities, which tend to illustrate the manners of the fifteenth century. It contains a 'lytyl reporte' of how young people should behave; 'how the good wijf tauzte hir douztir;' 'how the wise man tauzt his son;' the 'Book of Nurture, or schoole of good maners for men, servants, and children,' by Hugh Rhodes; the 'Boke of Nurture, by John Russell;' the 'Boke of Kerninge;' the 'Booke of Demeanor, and the allowance and disallowance of certaine misdemeanors in companie, by Richard West;' the 'Boke of Curtasye;' the 'Schoole of Vertue, by F. Seager,' and various other pieces on the customs of the times. The authors of these pieces give very good rules for behaviour, and some of them would be appropriate in a book of etiquette of the present day; but others discover a state of society now happily passed away. The subjects treated of rise from the rules laid down for boys, which if they follow,

up to the difficulties that beset chamberlains, ushers, and marshals, in ordering the precedence of the great men entertained by their lords.

Mr. Furnivall has prefixed to his book a valuable introduction on the subject of Education in Early England.

'The Booke of Quinte Essence'[205] is a short text with a long title, on a revelation delivered to Hermes, the prophet and king of Egypt. It is here said that God's greatest secret for man's need is how to restore old feeble men to the strength of youth. A walnut-shell full of the wonderful liquid is sufficient to turn an old man young again, to cure one given up by the doctors, and to make a coward bold and strong. Besides all these advantages, it has the further one of driving away the devil. As the price of the book that contains these wonderful secrets is only one shilling, we should not be surprised to learn that the Society had sold a very large number of copies.

We now pass to some of the purely religious texts of the fifteenth century, commencing with the hermit of Hampole.

Richard Rolle, author of the 'Prick of Conscience,' was formerly held in great estimation as a prolific writer, and his 'English Prose Treatises'[206] are a real addition to our literature. The hermit was not a priest, but a recognised, although an irregular sort of preacher. One John de Dalton gave him a hermit's clothing and a cell, and provided for his maintenance. His gaze was ever upwards, and he was so absorbed in his work that his friends could take off his tattered coat and put it on again when mended without his knowledge. He was an ascetic himself, but saw that some men must lead an active life or the world would come to an end; and although much of his teaching is gloomy, it is generally Scriptural. Hampole died of the Black Death, in the year 1349, and his shrine became a favourite resort of pilgrims, who believed that he performed miracles of healing after his death. Mr. Perry has discovered a very great curiosity in a Latin office, prepared for the time when the hermit should be sainted. Whether this time did arrive, or whether the office was actually used, does not appear.

The 'Religious Pieces in Prose and Verse'[207] contain Dan Jon Gaytryge's sermon, 'the whilke teches how scrifte es to be made, and whareof and in scrifte how many things solde be consideride' (this has also been wrongly attributed to Wiclif); the 'Mirror of St. Edmund,' which contains some good precepts, although gloomy and ascetic; the 'Abbey of the Holy Ghost,' and a few hymns and poems. The 'Abbey of the Holy Ghost' is founded in the conscience, and the maidens that cleanse the place are righteousness and purity. The abbey is built on the river of tears, meekness and poverty prepare the ground, the walls are raised by obedience and mercy, the love of God and right faith are the cement. Patience and faith shall raise the pillars, shrift make the chapter-house, preaching the hall, prayer the chapel, contemplation the dormitory, sadness the infirmary, devotion the cellar, and meditation the store-house. The Holy Ghost is the warden and visitor, charity the lady abbess, wisdom the prioress, meekness the sub-prioress, discretion the treasure, orison the chauntress, jubilation the helper of the chauntress, devotion the cellaress, penance the cook, temperance the waiter, soberness the reader, pity the answerer, mercy the almoner, dread the porteress, honesty the mistress of the novices, courtesy and simplicity the receivers of the guests, and reason the purveyor. But with all these excellent virtues about, four evil damsels are introduced into the abbey, and they are envy, pride, grumbling, and evil-thinking, who do much mischief; but in answer to prayer the visitor expels the evil damsels.

John Myrc, a canon of Lilleshall, in Shropshire, knowing how ignorant many priests were, compiled his 'Instructions for Parish Priests,'[208] for the purpose of 'coaching' them in their duties. He instructs them as to the questions they should ask the penitent in confession, and gives forms of absolution. He says that bad Latin does not spoil the Sacrament, if the first syllable of each word be right. The author, however, does not confine himself to priests, but adjures the laity to be reverent in their behaviour at church; and not to jest or loll against pillars and walls. This treatise affords, as may be supposed from its subject, very valuable illustrations for the life of its time.

We have left to the last, one of the texts that we like best, and that is, the 'Hymns to the Virgin and Christ.'[209] These poems are full of a pure devotional feeling, and many of them exhibit their authors as true poets. 'The Mirror of the Periods of Man's Life; or, Bids of the Virtues and Vices for the Soul of Man,' is a striking and vigorous poem; but there is a tender philosophy breathing throughout 'Revertere' (in English tunge, turne aghen!) which is very charming:—

Besides the texts we have noticed, there are many of a later date than the fifteenth century; but we cannot do more than mention the names of Lauder's 'Poems,' Hume's 'Orthographie of the Britan Tongue,' Thynne's 'Animadversions of Chaucer,' Lyndesay's 'Works,' 'The Romance of Partenay or Lusignen,' Levins's 'Manipulus Vocabulorum,' Awdeley's 'Fraternitye of Vacabondes,' &c., &c.

The list of books to be printed in the future is a very tempting one, and we notice many works of great interest, which we trust the Society will have money enough at its disposal to allow it to issue. This can be done only by a large accession of members, and we are sorry to see that the income has not increased as it ought to have done during the last year. The following are the totals of the balance-sheets of the various years from the formation of the Society in 1864, when the income was only £152 2s.; 1865, £384 0s. 11d.; 1866, £681 0s. 1d.; 1867, £941 6s. 10d.; 1868, £1,229 1s. 3d.; 1869, £1,227 19s. 4d.

The committee seem to feel the greatness of the work before them, and calling for further assistance, write in their fourth report:—'Thus reinforced, the Society can proceed with fresh vigour to the accomplishment of its task, with the determination not to rest till Englishmen shall be able to say of their early literature, what the Germans can now say with pride of theirs, "Every word of it is printed, every word of it is glossed."' And in their second report, they had previously said, 'The Society will be ready to take on itself the burden laid by the late J. M. Kemble on the Ælfric Society, to leave no word of Anglo-Saxon unprinted.' In redemption of the latter pledge it has now in the press, King Alfred's translation of Gregory's 'Pastoral Care,' the 'Homilies of 971 a.d.,' belonging to the Marquis of Lothian, and a fresh set of Ælfric's 'Homilies,' most of which are in verse.

We ought never to lose sight of the urgent need there is for printing our MS. treasures. A unique manuscript may be destroyed at any moment, as has lately occurred in the total destruction of the Strasburg library, to the irreparable loss of the whole literary world.

All tastes are catered for in the set of Early English Texts. Do you wish for ballads and short poems? You have them here. Do you care only to read romances? You have the tales of battles and gallantry that delighted our grandfathers while they sat as open-mouthed listeners to the reading of the great volume that lasted them for many a long winter evening. Do you wish to study manners and customs, to find out how our ancestors lived, worked, and played, what were their religious beliefs and superstitions? Here are ample materials for your investigation. Or is the old language the object of your examination? Then the great object of the Society is to popularize the old works that illustrate the history of our native speech.

There is everywhere evidence of a growing living interest in modern languages, and of an attempt to study them with the thoroughness that has heretofore been confined to the classical languages. At present, although we are comparatively in the dark as to our grammatical forms, we are gradually constructing a history; but we cannot build without bricks, and the Early English Text Society proposes to supply them.

No pleasure is thoroughly enjoyed until it is imparted to another, so that as we have had the satisfaction of conversing with, and studying the mind and manners of our ancestors, we are anxious that others should enjoy the same pleasure; and we cannot but feel that those who will only read printed books are under great obligations to those gentlemen who undertake the arduous task of reading and explaining the manuscripts for their amusement and instruction. We have made a rapid sketch of the literature of several centuries as illustrated by the publications of the Society, and necessarily, from the extent of the subject, in a very slight and cursory manner, but we shall be quite satisfied if its imperfections lead our readers to consult the originals themselves.

We may add, for the benefit of those whom it may interest, that the subscription to the Early English Text Society is one guinea a year (with an additional guinea for those who subscribe to the Extra Series), and the honorary secretary is Mr. Henry B. Wheatley, 53 Berners-street, W.

Art. III.—Parties in the Episcopal Church.

(1.)Judgments of the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council. By the Hon. G. C. Brodrick and Rev. W. H. Freemantle. London: John Murray.

(2.) The Church Times.

(3.) Church Association Reports.

The glory of the Episcopal Church, according to many of her loudest eulogists, is her comprehensiveness. She is not, they say, like the sects, bound within the narrow lines of a rigid orthodoxy. She does not expect that from all her pulpits the same doctrines should be preached in stereotyped phraseology, not even that her ritual shall always conform to the same pattern. She recognises diversities of tastes, and adapts herself to them. Instead of checking, she encourages the widest freedom of inquiry, and secures for her clergy a liberty which the members of voluntary communities will not tolerate in their ministers. Hence she includes in her ranks men of innumerable varieties of opinion, from believers in the extreme theory of verbal inspiration on the one hand to Doctor Colenso and his sympathizers on the other; from upholders of sacramentarian and sacerdotal systems, which run to the very verge of Romanism, to men whose Church principles are hardly to be distinguished from those of the Plymouth Brethren. Whether such diversity is consistent with the fundamental principles of the constitution of the National Church; whether it was ever contemplated by the men who, at the time of the Restoration, gave her her present character; whether the advocates of this comprehensiveness support it by arguments drawn from their own ideal of what a National Church should be, rather than from the documents which determine what the Anglican Church really is; whether the principle they lay down is worked out to the extent which, if admitted at all, justice would demand; whether, on the whole, it works for evil or for good, are questions which we do not propose to discuss at length here. The fact at all events is patent, and was never more so than at present, that the Church of England includes not only individuals of different views, but great antagonistic parties having their separate organizations, pursuing their own ends, and two of them at least, so far from admitting that the Church should be of this comprehensive character, asserting that they themselves are the only loyal Churchmen, and that all others have more or less of the taint of heresy upon them. The lines of demarcation have become even wider, and the feelings cherished by the more eager partizans on either side more intense than when, eighteen years ago, one of the distinguished divines of the day gave to the world his celebrated sketch of the rival hosts. During the interval there have been many fierce struggles, in the settlement of which the courts of law have been called to intervene. Decisions of great importance in their bearing upon the liberty enjoyed by the clergy have been given. Toleration has been secured for doctrines and practices which it was generally thought were inadmissible, and the legislature has gone so far in its desire to relieve scrupulous consciences as to modify the terms of clerical subscription. The result of the liberty thus given, has been, as perhaps might have been expected, a wider divergence of opinion than has existed at any previous period; but this, unfortunately, has not been accompanied by a growth of that mutual tolerance which even the result of the various suits, instituted for the suppression of what was regarded on one side or the other as heresy, ought to have produced. The parties who have failed in their attempts to purge the Church of error have sat down under their defeat, angry and discontented, the loud talk of a determination to secede rather than be parties to the toleration of false doctrines has died away, but the lesson as to the limitation of their power has done nothing towards producing a spirit of greater charity.

The Broad Church party—if indeed it is right to speak of a number of men who have no party organization and no party aims, among whom are to be found all shades of opinion, and whose one bond of connection is their common love of freedom—have consistently maintained that the Church of England belongs neither to one section nor the other, but is intended to comprehend all. The aim of the courts has been as far as possible to maintain this view, on behalf of which they have often strained the language of the law to a dangerous extent, and in fact have allowed mere custom to set aside the authority of law in a way which certainly would not have been tolerated in any proceedings relative to property or civil right. The expositions of ecclesiastical law, as given even by the highest court, have often been remarkable as illustrations of the dexterity with which the judges have rescued the Church from positions of great difficulty, rather than as examples of sound interpretation of the statutes. Considerations of public policy have affected the decisions, and the strict letter of the law has been disregarded in a fashion which would find little favour in Westminster Hall. The question has been, not as to the positive requirements of the statute if construed on the ordinary principles of language, but as to the amount of latitude to be permitted; and so far has this been carried, that the defendant in a recent suit was bold enough to quote a passage from a letter of Dr. Arnold, which was not published till after his death, as illustrative of the liberty which had been granted to him, and which, therefore, though to a much greater extent, he demanded for himself. Statesmen and lawyers in truth, understanding that the absolute victory of either of the contending parties meant the downfall of the National Church, have anxiously sought to protect all in the enjoyment of their position, and to make them understand that the continuance of the great institution, to which in common they profess so hearty an attachment, depends upon their mutual recognition of each other's rights. But the lesson has been given to reluctant pupils, of whom it would not be too much to say that they cling to that which they ought to forget, and turn a deaf ear to all they need to learn. If among the best men on all sides there has been the steady growth of a better feeling, and if there is an increasing body of the ablest and most thoughtful of the clergy who refuse to identify themselves with any party, the majority of the strong adherents both of the High Church and the Evangelicals display all the old spirit, and if they had the power certainly do not lack the will to make the Church the exclusive preserve of their own section.

A better illustration of this could not well be found than that which is given in the introductory Essay on 'Anglican Principles' in the recent volume of 'Essays on the Church and the Age,' the manifesto of moderate High Churchmen. In this party the Dean of Chichester deservedly holds a very high place. His great abilities, his large and varied experience, his distinguished services in various departments of labour, his high character, rightly give him position and influence. He is not a man of illiberal temper, and if he ever had the heat of the partizan, the mellowing influence of time has toned down its ardour. He is so far from being a man of extreme views or from cherishing any sympathy with the Ritualist party, that he says, 'They assert dogmas which are scarcely to be distinguished from some of the errors of the Church of Rome.' 'To this party,' he adds, 'those who adhere to the principles of the English Reformers, and who were, till of late years, known on that account as High Churchmen, are as much opposed as they have ever been to the Puritans, and on the same grounds.' His opposition to these Romanizing tendencies, however, does not lead him to regard more favourably those who are at the other pole of the theological compass. On the contrary, if he condemns Ritualists, he lays much of the blame for their position, as well as for that of the Rationalizers, on the Evangelicals, whom he charges with infidelity to their ecclesiastical obligations, and with all the consequences which have resulted from those lax notions of subscription of which they gave the first example. 'The only difference,' he says, 'between the Tractarian and the Puritan, in regard to the formularies of our Church, is this, that the former honestly, if not discreetly, has avowed the principle upon which the other party has, from the time of the Reformation, never ceased to act. The Puritans did not use the term non-natural; but what else is meant when they clothe in the garment of Calvinism what the Church has laid before them as plain and simple Catholic truth?' Having himself no sympathy with those who do not care to inquire what the Church really means in the dogmas which she has laid down, and who are satisfied if they can so torture her formularies as to make them lend an apparent sanction to preconceived opinions, he contends that 'if the thumb-screw be allowable to one party, it cannot be withheld from the other;' ... that if liberty be granted to one, it must be extended quite as freely to the other; and that if this be conceded, the only conclusion is that 'we possess no authoritative statement of doctrine whatever.'... 'The question is—we repeat it—the principle having been conceded to the Puritans, where is it to stop!' This is certainly turning the tables to some purpose. The Evangelicals have been in the habit of denouncing, with a good deal of righteous indignation, the Popish traitors who eat the bread of a Protestant Church, while all the time they are labouring only to betray her into the hands of her enemy; or the still greater offenders who continue to occupy Christian pulpits, while their writings show that they have accepted even the fundamental doctrines of Christianity in a non-natural sense. It is somewhat startling for them to be told, not only that they are equally guilty, but that their own laxity has been the fruitful parent of the excesses of which they complain so bitterly in others; that as the definite meaning of formularies must be maintained or universal liberty be conceded, and every man left to believe as seemeth right in his own eyes, the toleration to a Gorham necessitated toleration to a Bennett and a Mackonochie and a Colenso; and that on them, therefore, rests the responsibility for the disorder, the anarchy, and the heresy by which the Church is afflicted. The argument is not new, for it is substantially that which was employed by the Rev. W. G. Ward in his defence before the Oxford Convocation, and the Evangelicals would doubtless have a good deal to say in opposition to its conclusions. We quote it here only as indicative of the strong feelings that prevail between different parties. Mr. Ward used it in self-defence, and in an extremity when the tu quoque plea was about the only one which was available. From Dr. Hook it comes as a judicial utterance; and when such a man adopts this style of criticism, we can easily understand with what bitterness the struggle will be carried on by those who have neither his ability nor his self-restraint.

While High Churchmen are thus determined on their side, and while the more advanced section of the party never attempt to conceal the contempt they entertain for Evangelicals, we have only to turn to the utterances on the opposite side to see how fully the sentiment is reciprocated. It would be hard to conceive of a sadder caricature of Christianity than would be presented by a series of extracts from the Church Times and Church Review on the one side, and the Record and the Rock on the other. That there are members of both parties who are shocked by the violence, the narrow-mindedness, the unreasoning partizanship of their organs, we do not doubt; but it is impossible to deny that these journals do represent large classes, whose antagonism to each other they at once stimulate and express. The scenes which two or three years ago disgraced the meeting of the Christian Knowledge Society, and the prosecutions which occupy so much of the time, and must sometimes try the temper and patience of the judges, are other indications of the same virulence of spirit. We hear about the comprehensiveness of the Church, but while this internal strife continues, that comprehensiveness is its scandal, not its glory. It is the legal association in a Christian Church of men who have no faith in each other, whose principles are mutually subversive, who lose no opportunity of expressing their disgust with their companions and their belief that they are where they are, only by unfaithfulness to conscience and disobedience to law. It is the maintenance of an outward and visible form of union where there is not the inward and spiritual grace; not the fellowship of those who have subordinated minor differences that they may cultivate a true spiritual unity, but of those whose antagonism is deep-rooted and intense, and who remain in the same Church from mutual jealousy and distrust rather than from any better feeling. It is a comprehensiveness which is the child of legal moderation, not of Christian charity, which, so far from being the legitimate development of noble and generous sentiment, is the result only of external constraint, whose hollowness is evident in the railing accusations to which both parties condescend, and which survives only because neither is willing to withdraw from an enforced and hateful union, and so leave all the prestige and emoluments of the National Church in the hands of its opponents for the promotion of what it regards as deadly error.

The ideal of a church which allows the greatest latitude of opinion consistent with an adherence to the primary truths of the Gospel, which trusts for the maintenance of Christian truth to its own living force rather than to any artificial defences, which aims to cultivate unity of spirit rather than agreement in creed, which, proceeding on the belief that where there is the same spirit there will yet be diversities of gifts, and under the same law differences of administration, does not attempt to curb the free development of individual belief or allow the divergence to which it may lead to interfere with the enjoyment of true spiritual fellowship, is a very exalted one. If the Church of England were really striving to attain that, or if it exhibited any signs of an approach to it, we should be prepared to condone many faults, and, even though it failed to realize its own conception, to honour it for aiming at such an ideal. But this is just the view which High Church and Low Church would alike repudiate. Little love as they bear to each other, they have still less for the only section which is honestly seeking to give the Church this character. Whether or not the members of the Broad Church party are right in their interpretation of the facts of history or the principles of ecclesiastical law, it is due to them, at least, to say that they are consistent in their maintenance of clerical liberty. Others demand freedom for themselves, and are very loud in their protests against ecclesiastical despotism if there is any danger that they may themselves become its victims. Broad Churchmen vindicate the liberties of all, and have more than once, in times of fierce excitement, exposed themselves to a storm of unpopularity by their gallant defence of men who had made themselves obnoxious by their avowal of what was branded as heresy. All others have in their turn been assailants; they, never. From all the crusades against heresy they have stood aloof, and have been content to bear the reproach of heterodoxy themselves rather than do anything which might narrow the boundaries of the Church, or curtail the freedom of the clergy. We could not find a better illustration of this than in Dean Stanley's recent volume of Essays. We find him in the Gorham controversy breaking a lance in defence of the Evangelicals when an attempt was made to deprive them of their status in the Church; and when they, forgetful of their own difficulties, turned round, and in their turn became assailants of the authors of 'Essays and Reviews,' we find him equally resolute in courageously withstanding them. His own views in opposition to Ritualism are expressed with sufficient distinctness, and, when dealing with its favourite South African prelate and his attack on Dr. Colenso, he is bold and unsparing; but if any wish him to unite in an effort to expel Ritualists from the Church, his answer is, 'As we would wish to include the Nonconforming members of the Church who are without its pale, so we would wish to retain those Nonconforming members who are within its pale.' The very thoroughness with which the Dean carries out his principle itself irritates many. They cannot understand how a man should be so zealous a champion of the rights of those whose theological and ecclesiastical opinions he has not a spark of sympathy. But nothing tempts him to swerve from his position. The Church is nothing to him if she be not comprehensive, and he will resist to the death anything which threatens to deprive him of this boasting on her behalf.

All that Broad Churchmen can thus do, however, is to justify themselves. They cannot alter the fact that there is an Act of Uniformity defining exactly what the character and constitution of the Church shall be; and when we come to examine the history and requirements of that Act, it is difficult to see how it can be maintained that the Church was intended to be comprehensive. It is so in fact; but it is so certainly in opposition to the designs of the ecclesiastics of the Restoration who gave it its present constitution, and in opposition to the letter of the law.

But if the existence of separate parties with views in such complete antagonism as to be mutually destructive is an anomaly, these parties may plead in their own behalf that they are as necessary to the Establishment as the Establishment is to them; that they could exist and work for the advancement of their own views even though they should be expelled from the Establishment, but that in such case it must assuredly fall; and that so conscious of this have been the administrators of the law, that until the extreme views of Mr. Purchas and Mr. Voysey have dictated a somewhat different course, their constant effort has been to avoid any decision which might compel any one of them to secede—a tenderness certainly not prompted by any regard to them, but solely by a consideration of the probable results to the Establishment. How far this should reconcile conscientious men to retain their position, is a point which must be left for themselves to settle. Nonconformists have sometimes been too ready to settle it for them, and condemn both Evangelicals and Ritualists for infidelity to truth because they do not take the course which, under like circumstances, they themselves would feel bound to adopt. Imputations of this kind are as impolitic as they are unfair. They leave out of sight the different aspect in which the same facts present themselves to different minds, and the diversity of conclusion which may be reached with perfect honesty on all sides. It is certain, however strange it may seem to those looking at the subject from a different stand-point, that of the two extreme parties there are numbers who sincerely believe that the Church was intended to be of their particular type—'Evangelical or Catholic,' as the case may be. It requires a good deal of faith, perhaps, to believe that any man can honestly think that Gunning or Sheldon intended to make the Church Evangelical, but it is nevertheless certain that numbers have a sincere conviction that Evangelicals are the true Churchmen. That 'Catholics' on their side are satisfied of their own ecclesiastical orthodoxy is less surprising; while any, whether High Churchmen or Low Churchmen, who are candid enough to confess their rubrical transgressions, would maintain that no one conforms to the pattern in all things, and that if they err, it is only in common with all beside.

One of the most remarkable features in the history of the Church during the last twenty years has been the development of High Church principles; and in this we do not so much refer to the extreme extent to which they have been pushed by the Ritualists, or to the increase of professed adherents of the party, as to the higher tone of Church sentiment which is so perceptible, and which has affected numbers who would disown all connection with any section of the party. The Tractarian movement has undoubtedly been one of the chief causes of this. Mr. Bennett and others of the early leaders who still remain faithful in their allegiance to the Church of their birth, may well congratulate themselves on the different atmosphere by which they now find themselves surrounded. They have not indeed succeeded in moulding public opinion, they have not undermined the strong Protestant feeling of the nation nor have they persuaded the people that the National Church is anything but a Protestant Church. But practices are tolerated to-day which formerly were regarded with horror and alarm; battle-grounds which once were hotly contested have been left in possession of the High-Anglicans, and they, grown bold by the successes they have won, have put forth new claims and are seeking to introduce innovations—or, as they would call them, restorations—which the most sanguine among them would not have dared to contemplate a few years ago. To preach in a surplice, for example, is no longer regarded as an evidence of Romanising tendency, although, perhaps, it is still a sign that the preacher is not of the Evangelical party. In the struggle, however, which is now waged to prevent the adoption of sacrificial vestments, it is almost forgotten how recently the appearance of the preacher in a surplice was sufficient to provoke popular commotion and to furnish an occasion of legal prosecutions. In the style of Church architecture and music, in the more elaborate form of service adopted in places innocent of High Church tendencies, and in the increased attention paid to some of the festivals, we find the same advance. Nor is it only in such points as these that the change is seen. Even more significant is the quiet revival of Convocation, and the amount of influence it has been able to gain. Power in the strict sense of the term it has not; and there is often a ludicrous contrast between the loudness of its talk and the feebleness of its performances. But if it has no legislative authority, it continually passes its judgment on questions affecting the interests of the Church, and its pretensions have sometimes been treated with a consideration, not to say deference, which is indicative of an alteration in the spirit of the times. No English Prime Minister, indeed, whatever might be his personal proclivities, would dare to concede what its leaders consider themselves entitled to ask; yet a careful observer cannot fail to see that it has been quietly asserting itself in a way most grateful to the advocates of ecclesiastical ascendancy. The Bill for the Revision of the Lectionary, introduced in the last session of Parliament, afforded a very striking proof of this advance. Convocation was first consulted as to the changes proposed to be made, and greatly to the satisfaction of High Churchmen, the preamble of the measure contained a distinct reference to the opinion which that august body had expressed on the subject. It is true that the Bill did not pass the House of Commons, and would probably not have been able to secure the assent of an assembly chosen by household suffrage without the sacrifice of this point of the preamble, but the fact that it was introduced by the ministers of the Crown and, in opposition to the protests of Lord Shaftesbury and some other peers, was accepted by the House of Lords, is itself painfully significant. It may even prove that the move has been premature and impolitic, and the result may be the awakening of a spirit of jealousy that will prevent any further encroachments. Still, such progress as has been made in this development of Church authority would not have been possible if there had not been, in certain quarters, a state of feeling friendly to it—a reaction against the Erastianism which would treat the clergy as mere officers of the State, whose duty was simply to carry out the will of Parliament—a growing tendency to accept the rule of the Church in the business of the Church.

There are many who attribute this High Church development to the influence of what they call the 'Catholic revival' throughout Europe. A wave of deeper spiritual feeling, more humble reverence for authority, more perfect faith in Catholic truth, and more earnest desire to work out the true Catholic ideal of holiness has, they say, been passing over the Continent, and it has reached us. Before we admit the fact of this revival, we are entitled to ask where its evidences are to be found. Is it in Belgium, esteemed the most Catholic country in Europe except Ireland, where the closer our acquaintance with the people the more clearly does it appear that underlying much show of outward devotion, there is, especially in the male part of the urban population, a spirit of silent but decided revolt against the superstitions of Rome? Or is it in Austria, whose ecclesiastical policy has been growingly liberal in its character, and has been continually putting it more and more out of accord with the Vatican? Or in Spain, where once priests and Jesuits ruled supreme, but where the fall of their wretched instrument, who so long disgraced the throne of that unhappy land, has inaugurated an era of freedom? Or is it in Italy herself, preserving indeed her outward allegiance to the Papal See, but it is to be feared with little faith of any kind surviving among her people? As we look at these nations where the dominion of Rome is supposed to be most secure, it seems absurd to talk of 'Catholic revival.' Still we cannot say that it is only a dream of enthusiasts. In a certain sense there has been the revival of which Archbishop Manning is so fond of boasting. Ages and countries in which we find great material prosperity, love of luxury, a low standard of morals, are those in which we find also a strong development of superstition, and a readiness to bow to the will of the priest. Europe in the nineteenth century is no exception to the rule. France in particular would perhaps be pointed out as the scene of the great Catholic revival of the day; and if the desertion by the great body of the Gallican bishops and clergy of the cause for which their predecessors so gallantly contended, the readiness of priests and people to accept the most extreme views of Papal infallibility and Mariolatry, the restoration of the rites of the Church in the old cathedrals in their full pomp and circumstance, and the shameless subserviency of French politicians to Papal ambition, be the signs of a 'Catholic revival,' such revival there undoubtedly has been. Side by side with the falsehood, the frivolity, the idle display, the incredible extravagance, and the immorality which were the scandal of Paris, and in which the court of the Second Empire was so deeply implicated, there was also an outburst of superstitious devotion, yclept, we suppose, a 'revival.' The Empress was the great leader of fashion, and as she was a devotee of Rome and the Jesuits, it became fashionable in the circles of which she was the centre, to affect an earnest zeal for the Church and her observances. As in Paris, so to some extent in other capitals; and thus, though there is little on which a Church intent only on spiritual ends could congratulate herself, there have been an increased splendour in ceremonial, a more facile acceptance of Church dogmas, a greater show of deference to the priest, and especially to the Holy Father, which have been gratefully welcomed. Looking back at the position of the Papacy in 1848, and tracing its rise from the extreme depression into which it had fallen at that time, to that sense of power which encouraged the Pope eighteen months ago to convene a Council in the hope that it would realise the grand idea of years, and proclaim his infallibility, we cannot be surprised that we hear boasts of a revival. But the more closely it is examined, the less of a religious character will it be found to possess.

In England it has been different. Whatever we may think of the doctrines of the Tractarians, it would be worse than uncharitable to doubt their sincerity, their conscientiousness, their intense devotion to the principles they hold, their spiritual life and fervour, as it would be foolish to deny that they have been the authors of what may fairly be described as a 'Romish revival.' So far as there has been any real religious movement in the Roman Catholic churches of the Continent, we believe that it has come from this country. It was no small thing for the Papal See to gain the distinguished band of converts, of which Newman and Manning are the most conspicuous. Bringing with them subtle and highly-cultured intellects, high reputations, and fervid zeal, they threw themselves into the service of the Church in which they professed to have found rest with all the passionate devotion of new converts, and their influence could not but be felt throughout the whole Romish community. The prospect of the return of England to the true Church that so large a secession from the Anglican ranks seemed to hold out, was itself sufficiently stimulating, while the example of their ardour and diligence stirred up their new associates to nobler efforts in the common cause.

But while they thus breathed new life into the movements of the Roman Catholic Church, their influence did not end there. The leaven of their teaching and spirit remained in the Church they had forsaken. Contrary to what was once expected, their secession neither deterred many of their sympathisers from venturing still further in the dangerous paths which had conducted their leaders to Rome, nor induced them to follow their example, and reconcile themselves with the Holy See. So far from the Church being purged of Tractarian principles, these are more defiant and rampant than ever. Mr. Bennett, Dr. Littledale, and Mr. Mackonochie have only developed the idea of Mr. Newman and his coadjutors; but they have done this to an extent which their predecessors never attempted, and which in those days they would not have thought possible. It is possible now, because these teachings have done much more than merely indoctrinate a certain number of minds with their opinions, they have created a High Church tone in a much wider circle than that which they are able directly to affect. Men who would scorn to accept them as their leaders, who declaim about the absurdity of some of their practices, and the Romish tendency of the whole movement, are yet to an extent, perhaps almost unconsciously, influenced by them. How is this?

Something is due to their very audacity. They speak with no faltering tone, they act with decision and fearlessness, and the confidence which they show in themselves and their opinions begets a similar feeling in others; while even with those who refuse to yield themselves absolutely to their lead, there is a disposition to think that, though they may push their notions too far, they would not have dared to go to such an extreme unless they had been in the main right. There are large numbers of Englishmen, who, looking on at the spectacles provided for them in Ritualistic churches, are induced, after the first feeling of surprise, and possibly of indignation, is over, to say, 'There must be something in these men; they have gone too far, but that is only what others are doing in the opposite direction. They have borrowed too much from Rome, while others approach too near Geneva. We like neither the one nor the other. What we want is the service of our own Church well done.' Thus they have carried a large body who condemn Ritualism to a position in advance even of the old High Church view, and they have done it mainly because they had the courage of conviction, and did not shrink from the consequences to which their boldness might expose them. What the Protestant public would think and say of them, how many prejudices they would awaken, what condemnation they would have to face, they must have foreseen. But they have braved all, and they have a reward, even beyond the progress they have made in winning converts to their party, in the subtle but powerful influence they have exerted on Church sentiment.

They have had, too, the life and energy characteristic of the youth of religious parties. In the abundance of their labours, in their freedom from conventionalism in their work, in their willingness to adopt any plan which has been found successful by others, they are an example to ministers of all churches. There are, of course, among them those who have little sympathy with the noble aims of their brethren, and who have no higher object than a gratification of their own strong priestly instincts, perhaps even of their childish love of display, who delight in the show of the gorgeous service, and have little care for the truths it is intended to symbolize, and who bring contempt upon the whole movement by words and deeds which stamp on it a character of weakness and puerility. It is the fate of every party to attract some followers of this type, and it would be as unfair to judge it by them, as it would be uncandid not to recognise the higher qualities of those who have given it weight and importance. The truth is, these men have a faith, and they are not afraid of avowing and of acting upon it; and in an age which is only too prone to seek after compromises, this itself gives them power. Their very dogmatism, offensive as it is to inquiring minds, is a reaction from the too prevalent laxity of religious belief, and commends them to a large class who are weary of endless disputations, and crave for something positive. To the clamour for liberty—which is not unfrequently only another name for lawlessness, the sign of an unwillingness to submit to any rule either of faith or practice, the assertion of a man's right to believe what he likes, and do what he will—they oppose the law of a Catholic Church, ending all discussion, and silencing opposition by the mere assertion that the Church has spoken, and that through her we receive the will of God. In the presence of a widespread disbelief in the supernatural, and a desire to eliminate the miraculous from the teachings of Scripture, they assert the existence of a perpetual miracle in the presence of the Lord upon His own altars, and find the best evidence of His Incarnation in the extensions of that incarnation through the sacraments for the nourishment of the spiritual life of His followers. Such a creed is out of harmony with all Protestant opinion, and does not bear the test of either reason or Scripture; and when, as it must be, the demand for its acceptance is based on the authority of the Church, it is open to attack from the Roman Catholic side equally fatal with that which it has to encounter from Protestantism. But illogical and unscriptural as it appears to us, it is held by Anglicans with a tenacity, and worked out with an enthusiastic ardour, of which we find too few examples among the believers in creeds of a more Scriptural order. They are ready to proclaim its articles on the housetops; so far from attempting to hide the extravagance of any of their pretensions, they seem rather to delight in bringing them out in their most pronounced obnoxious forms; and by their outspoken boldness they constrain even the admiration of those who like them least.

If this party have gained power by the strong assertion of their distinctive principles, they have largely increased it by the way in which they have identified themselves with various popular movements, and the earnestness, combined with a certain kind of practical wisdom, with which they have prosecuted their work. With all the deference they claim for tradition in relation to doctrine, they show not the slightest respect to traditional notions, so far as Christian work is concerned. Of that regard to dignity which restrained the High Church clergy of a former time from everything that bore the most distant resemblance to Methodism, they have not a vestige, and, indeed, they view it as one of the errors of that dreary Hanoverian Protestantism which they hate intensely, and certainly not without good reason. They set out with an ardent longing to recover the masses of the people to their allegiance to the Church, and any means that will contribute to that end they adopt. 'All other sections of the English Church save one,' Dr. Littledale tells us, 'have stood their trial and have failed.' The time is come when an effort should be made on a different principle, and that principle is a careful regard to the tastes and necessities of the people whom they have to win; for past failure is to be attributed largely to 'a refusal to face the fact, that it is with beings with human wants and frailties, and not pure disembodied rationalities that the Church has to deal, that the shopkeepers and artisans have gone to Dissent, and the labourers have gone to the devil.' Acting on this conviction, they have sought to understand the nature of the influences by which the people have been drawn on both sides in order that they might fight both dissent and the devil with their own weapons. They have been willing to learn everywhere, believing that if the children of this world are in their generation wiser than the children of light, the latter cannot do better than become pupils in their school. Hence they have not been particular as to who their instructors were, if only they had something to teach them, and have been content to learn from a gin-palace as well as from a conventicle, from the Odd-Fellow or Forester as well as from the Primitive Methodist, borrowing from the one the histrionic style of their Ritual, and from the other the spiritual enthusiasm which expresses itself in revival services with stirring addresses and glowing hymns. There is certainly something singular in the idea that, inasmuch as the landlord of the gin-palace caters for his customers by means of painting, light, and music, the Church of Christ should do the same, and that ministers of the Gospel, adopting the arts of the managers of benefit societies, and pandering to that childish love of display which the latter gratify by glittering insignia of office, processions with a great deal of pomp and show, and rites around which a mysterious awe is thrown, should seek to attract the people by churches with gaily decorated altars, processions with banners and music, and a regular succession of church festivals celebrated with accessories that appeal to both the eye and ear. It indicates, however, the spirit of the party. Their Ritual has a deeper meaning than this, but by many it has undoubtedly been developed with the prominence they have given it under the belief that it would produce great popular effects.

Had they, however, confined themselves to the cultivation of this histrionic element, they would never have gained the power they possess. They have been equally active in the employment of means of a higher order. With the contempt for preaching which was, and still is, so prevalent amongst a large number of the Anglican clergy, they have little sympathy; for while they attach supreme importance to the work of the sacrificing priest or the confessor, they take ample care also to cultivate the art of popular address. This was specially apparent in the celebrated 'twelve days' mission,' which brought into notice more than one public orator of a type very different from anything with which the Episcopal Church has been familiar. That mission itself, disfigured as it was by many extravagancies and eccentricities, lowered in its character as a Christian work by the loud flourish of trumpets by which it was heralded, and the jubilant exultation as to its success in which its promoters indulged, and especially discredited by their manifest design to make it an opportunity of familiarising the minds of the people with Romish notions and practices, was, nevertheless, a remarkable proof of the skill as well as enthusiasm of the party. We should be sorry to think that among those by whom it was carried on there were not many influenced by a higher desire than to secure a mere party triumph; but regarded in that light only, we cannot too much admire the knowledge of human nature, and particularly of English human nature, shown by those who conceived the idea. Its very novelty was sure to arrest attention and draw crowds, and the fact that crowds are drawn by whatever means to religious services is with many sufficient to cover a multitude of offences against good taste, and even against Christian truth. There are those who apply to everything what they call practical tests, and one of their surest tests of the power of a preacher, is his capability of attracting large audiences. Of course, the proclamation of a grand crusade against sin and Satan, to be undertaken by a number of clergymen whose peculiarities had already attracted to them a large share of public attention, awakened curiosity, and, if there had been no other feeling, that would have been sufficient to crowd the churches. Among those who attended these services were many good people who went to see in what fashion and with what weapons this new warfare would be carried on. They saw the unusual sight of numbers, and many of them belonging to classes seldom found in a place of worship, coming night after night, and apparently impressed by the services. They heard eloquent preachers preaching to them the great truths of the Gospel, in forcible and striking language rebuking the sins of the day, in vivid and glowing pictures setting before them the love of Christ and His redeeming work, and in thrilling appeals beseeching them to believe and obey. Though even this could not reconcile them to a style of worship so strongly Romish in its character, or lead them to accept the error which was so subtly insinuated, it disarmed not a few prejudices, and led numbers, who never had a friendly thought towards Ritualism or Ritualists before, to think that, despite all their faults, these men were doing a great work, and were not lightly to be evil spoken of. The spectacle of so many clergymen banding themselves together for earnest evangelistic work, casting aside the traditions of their Church and their office, throwing themselves heart and soul into services in which the freedom and fervour, characteristic of Methodist revivals were substituted for the dulness and decorum with which the high Anglicans of former days were satisfied, and determined that, so far as lay in their power, they would make their Church what it has so often claimed to be, and what as a National Church it ought to be, the Church of the people, could not fail to produce a deep and favourable impression. Men who maintain an attitude of indifference to all parties did homage to the earnestness which marked the movement; and even among those who regarded it with strongest disapproval, and believed that its effect, so far as it was successful, would be to Romanize rather than Christianize the people, there were many who felt that the only way of overcoming such workers would be to display a spirit as devoted, as self-denying, and as practical as their own. Ritualists would be mistaken if they accepted the ungrudging praise which was given in many quarters to their daring courage, their free and energetic modes of action, their conscientious attempts to solve in their own fashion one of the most important problems of the day as indicating any abatement of decided opposition to their teachings, or of the righteous indignation with which those who are most ready to honour them for all that is good in them or their work, view their disloyalty to the Church of which they are ministers, and the wretched quibbles by which they seek to cloak or excuse their unfaithfulness. But, on the other hand, the Evangelicals will be equally mistaken if they forget that practical service of this character tells powerfully on behalf of the party by whom it is undertaken, and that those who feel that duty compels them to take a position of antagonism to it must, if they are to carry popular sympathy with them, justify their faith also by works.

Another feature in the conduct of the Ritualist clergy deserving of commendation, is the tact they have shown in utilising the power which was lying dormant in their congregations. The experience of all Churches testifies that nothing does more to attract a man to a religious community than the assigning to him a place and a work, and so making him feel that he contributes something to its power and prosperity. The 'Catholic' party (as they would have us call them) understand this, and have acted upon it. They endeavour to find a place for every one who will heartily give himself to the common work. They take care, of course, to preserve the sanctity and authority of the priesthood, and have clearly-marked boundary lines beyond which no layman will be allowed to go; but they perceive that one grand secret of the weakness of the Episcopal Church has been the unwillingness or the inability of the clergy to use the services which numbers in their congregations were willing to render, and they have sought to remedy the defect. Let it be granted that much of the work they give to their followers is not of a very exalted or edifying character. Still, even the masters of ceremonies, the cross-bearers, the choristers, the acolytes, the sacristans, feel themselves honored by the kindly notice of the clergy. They are pleased to think themselves of some use and importance, are led to identify themselves with the movement, and are often among its most zealous propagandists. The Christian work of women has been made a special study, and a number of devoted labourers called forth, who are among the most trusty adherents of the party, and whose ministry of love has been an immense gain to the influence of the Church in the neglected districts where it is carried on, and is a tower of strength to it. If we were intending here to estimate the exact value of the service done in these and other ways by the Ritualist clergy, we should be compelled to make many deductions. But the point on which we wish to insist, is simply the effect of their work in ministering to the growth of High Church sentiment in the country—a growth which has been aided by the unwise opposition of the Evangelicals, who have been too prone to oppose every movement of Ritualist origin without regard to its character. They have thus not only enabled their opponents to monopolise the entire credit of movements which might just as consistently have been undertaken by one party of the Church as another, but have caused Evangelicalism to be viewed by men of a more catholic spirit, who belong to no party organization, but are willing to accept wise suggestions from whatever quarter they come, as obstructive and impractical. The éclat which never fails to attend activity and enterprise has thus unfortunately remained with the Anglicans.