secrations; and when the see of Bath and Wells was offered, after Kidder's tragical death, to his friend Hooper, then Bishop of St. Asaph, Ken begged him to accept of it, in charity, as he said afterwards, to the diocese, that they might not have 'a Latitudinarian traditor imposed on them.' Yet even in this affair, which does Ken so much credit, there is a curious inconsistency of language. On December 6, 1703, he writes to Hooper in terms which imply an absolute surrender' of his 'canonical claim.' On December 18, he explains himself to his friend Bishop Lloyd: 'I think none ought to censure me if in such perilous times I desire a coadjutor, for which I have good precedents' (ii. 132, 133). But Hooper could not possibly act as Ken's 'coadjutor'; he could only go to Wells as diocesan bishop; and it was in that character, as his own canonical successor, that Ken expressed his willingness to recognize his friend. Dean Plumptre comments on these letters, 'His first thought seems to have been that of accepting Hooper as a coadjutor . . without a formal resignation. Already, however, he began to hear the mutterings of a storm' (the censures of the friends who 'ran too high,' ii. 128). . . . That, however, will not change his purpose, will rather lead to its taking a stronger and more definite form.' Yes; but the stronger' form in fact appears earlier than the less 'definite.' He first offers to Hooper an absolute cession, and then he excuses himself to Lloyd as naturally 'desiring a coadjutor.' We can only explain these sinuosities by ascribing to Ken a certain want of clear-sightedness, not only as to the path of duty in certain cases, but as to the import and bearing of words and deeds. It is but a small spot in the sunshine of his excellence, and, like his occasional outbreaks of hot temper, it brings a saint nearer to us by exhibiting him as compassed with human infirmity. Deeply pathetic indeed are the intimations of suffering which appear in Ken's last letters, and in the poems which he called 'Anodynes.' The complicated and painful disorders which wore out his strength, and which Dr. Plumptre attributes to 'over-study, underfeeding, and many vigils' (ii. 124), were accepted by his brave and loyal soul as forms of 'paternal discipline': 'Welcome, disease and pain; you both descend He was afraid to take opiates, lest they should 'indispose his spirit for prayer'; he sought relief in the old, familiar employment of hymnody, although, as he knew, pain might chill its vigour.' He praised the Divine goodness for a day of complete ease; he apostrophised the guardian angel in terms which recall the first version of his evening hymn; and, believing that God laid on him 'no pang superfluous,' could even pray for more pain if his love should grow remiss.' So real with him was the formula 'All glory be to God,' which always stands at the head of his letters, and corresponds so well to the frequent peroration, 'God keep us in His holy fear,' or in His reverential love, and make us wise for eternity,' or 'enable us to improve all the mementoes He is pleased to give us of eternity.' At length, under the roof of Longleat, which for twenty years had been honoured by giving him shelter, Thomas, late Bishop of Bath and Wells,' passed through sleep into eternity, and was buried two days later, in the dimness of a March morning, at Frome Selwood. Truly did Bishop Alexander, in the beautiful sermon at the Ken commemoration in 1885 which Dr. Plumptre places at the end of his own work, apply to his subject the third of the Beatitudes: 'He had his reward even here. Once again, the meek man, pushed forth from his home, "possesses the earth” with the spirit at once of a child and of a king' (ii. 289). We cordially thank Dean Plumptre for having raised this literary monument to a name which may well be called a symbol of purity, devotion, and single-heartedness. We do not expect him to agree with our criticism as to the diffuseness, or the excess of the imaginative element, which we observe in his work. His standard on such points is apparently different from our own. But he may, perhaps, think it worth while, in view of that 'second edition' which must ere long be required, to mark a few points which might be stated with greater accuracy. For instance, we think that some such fondness for historical analogies as often misled the late Dean Stanley must have induced Dean Plumptre to make St. Augustine 'the fontal source' of High Churchmanship, in the same degree or sense as of Calvinism (i. 85). We should not, indeed, admit that predestinarianism meant practically quite the same thing to Augustine and to a Calvinist; but we must claim for 'the Catholic doctrine of sacraments and of ecclesiastical polity' a pedigree going back far beyond the fifth century, although the Doctor of Grace did much towards formulating its expression. Nor do we understand the statement that about 1675 'the leading theologians' of Geneva— 'Turretin and Tronchin-were Universalists, in the sense of teaching a universal, and not a particular or limited, · redemption' (i. III). For Turretin elaborately maintains,' on strictly predestinarian grounds, that the Divine intentio or voluntas,' in regard to the effects of our Lord's death, contemplated 'the elect only,' so that the 'universalitas' of some texts on that subject must be taken as 'limitata.' He opposes not merely the Arminians or Remonstrants, but those inconsistent Calvinists whom he calls Universalistæ'; and he closes a long discussion by quoting the 'judicium' of Deodatus and Tronchin, as deputies from Geneva to the Synod of Dort, in the same sense, e.g. Christ, by the pure goodwill of the Father, was appointed and given as Mediator and Head certo hominum numero,' Further, we are told (i. 152) that, when Ken was at the Hague, 'the "peremptoriness" on the Roman side was not toned down, as it has been since, by the theory of "invincible ignorance."'2 But Bramhall, in the sixth chapter of the first part of his Just Vindication, published in 1654, quotes the Bishop of Chalcedon' (Richard Smith) as expressly granting that 'such Protestants as hold the fundamental points, and invincibly err,' or 'are invincibly ignorant of their errors, in not-fundamentals, because neither are these sufficiently proposed to them, nor they in fault that they are not so proposed, be in the Church, in way of salvation, for so much as belongeth to faith.' Surely nothing can be more explicit; and the admission is but an application of St. Thomas Aquinas' principles as to 'invincible ignorance' on questions of duty.3 Again, in ii. 19 it is assumed that Petre's ill-omened advice to James represented the policy of the Curia'; whereas it is certain that Jesuit counsels went one way, and Pope Innocent's exhortations another. Father Huddleston is twice called a 'Jesuit'; Lingard, who should know, calls him a Benedictine. As readers of Dorothy Forster know, the Earl of Derwentwater who was executed was not the son (ii. 160), but the grandson, of Charles II., being the son of his illegitimate daughter Lady Mary Tudor; and it was she who, after losing her first husband, Earl James's father, married again. The mention of Thomas Smith as the 'only' Fellow of Magdalen College who acquiesced in James's action towards that society (ii. 179) should be conformed to a previous statement that he was 'one of the few' 1 Institutio Theol. Elenct. ii. 495 ff. 2 For a signally beautiful instance of this 'toning down' see Cardinal Manning on Sin and its Consequences, p. 14. 3 Sum. Theol. 1a 2*, q. 76, a. 3, 4. 4 Lingard, xiii. 73; Macaulay, ii. 53. who did so (ii. 108). Charnock and Jasper Thomson were two others. We do not think that if Anne had not died so soon, her brother might have been proclaimed king (ii. 154), unless he had joined the English Church: she would have made this an essential condition. The original reading of a well-known passage in the Christian Year, and the alteration of it, which made a stir at the time, are given with verbal incorrectness as 'not in the hands, but in the heart,' and 'as in the hands, so in the heart' (i. 237). The interpretation assumed in i. 281 for St. Ignatius' famous words, 'My love has been crucified,' has been set aside decisively by Bishop Lightfoot. And, if such a matter is not too small to be mentioned, the house of Thomas Willis, in which the Church services and Eucharists were kept up at Oxford during the Cromwellian régime by Fell, Dolben, and Allestree, was not within or in closest neighbourhood to the walls of Christ Church' (i. 493), but was 'Beam Hall,' which stands to the east of Oriel and of the new building of Corpus Christi, and, as Antony Wood says, 'opposite to Merton College church.' Dean Plumptre quotes three passages in which Macaulay pays a tribute to Ken. We conclude by supplying another, which exceeds them all in heartiness of emphasis: 'His intellect was indeed darkened by many superstitions and prejudices; but his moral character, when impartially reviewed, sustains a comparison with any in ecclesiastical history, and seems to approach, as near as human infirmity permits, to the ideal perfection of Christian virtue.' 4 1 They declared for Antony Farmer as against Hough (Bloxam's Magdalen College and King James II. p. 28). As sister she undoubtedly desired that her brother's conversion might set her free to espouse his interests to the full. As queen she never wavered in her fidelity to the Act of Settlement' (as excluding a Roman Catholic prince).-Athenæum, August 13, 1887. See Antony 3 In i. 51 we read of 'those services at Christ Church.' Wood, Athen. Oxon. iv. 188, 194, on Dolben and Fell. It is to this house of Willis, not to his 'lodgings in Canterbury_quadrangle,' that we must refer what Wood says about the services. The worshippers, including, doubtless, 'Ken of New College,' would enter by a side door in a back street, cross a secluded garden, and ascend to a vaulted apartment which had been constructed in James I.'s time out of the upper part of a mediæval hall, and was secured by a strong door. 4 Hist. Engl. i. 638. ART. V.-HENRY BRADSHAW AND THE CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY. A Memoir of Henry Bradshaw, Fellow of King's College, Cambridge, and University Librarian. By G. W. PROTHERO. (London, 1888.) MR. PROTHERO is to be congratulated on the way in which he has performed the task of writing the biography of a dear and intimate friend. To write the life of a man whose time was spent upon books, who did little on his own account to bring his name before the world, and whose energies were spent rather upon helping others than upon advancing his own fame, can never be an easy thing to do; and in this case the biographer has had to avoid the pitfalls on the one hand of making his book too technical, and therefore unfitted for the general reader, and on the other of not speaking sufficiently of the details which occupied the greatest portion of the thoughts and the life of him of whom he is writing. We think he has accomplished this. He has given us the picture of Mr. Bradshaw as he was with his friends, over his books, as a schoolmaster in his early days, as head of the great library of which he had the charge; he has given well and clearly written sketches of the work done by Mr. Bradshaw in those branches of literature in which he was chiefly interested the early history of printing, Chaucer, cathedral statutes, Breton glosses, Irish history, &c.; and yet he has not overloaded his book with technicalities, which would have made it less interesting to the general reader. Moreover he has compressed into a single volume the ample materials at his command, and this has appeared within three years of Mr. Bradshaw's death, and, therefore, while most of his intimate friends are still living and have been able to help with their recollections. How soon the memory of a man, whose personality is very marked during his lifetime and whose life is part of the life of his friends, passes out of recollection is nowhere so true as in a university, where the places left vacant by death are immediately filled up and the work goes on without interruption, and the ever-recurring stream of fresh faces and fresh ideas comes up to obliterate the past and drive out the memory of him whose place knows him no more. Of Mr. Bradshaw's most intimate friends the |