tans in the closing years of Elizabeth's reign. The late Dr. Pocock, a recognised High Church authority, wrote in the Guardian of November 23, 1892, that

"the belief in the Apostolic Succession in the Episcopate is not to be found in any of the writings of Elizabethan Bishops". To the same effect is the well known statement of Keble in his preface to Hooker's Works:

"It might have been expected that the defenders of the English hierarchy against the first Puritans should take the highest ground and challenge for the Bishops the same unreserved submission on the same plea of exclusive Apostolic prerogative, which their adversaries feared not to insist on for their elders and deacons. It is notorious, however, that such was not in general the line, preferred by Jewel, Whitgift, Bishop Cooper, and others, to whom the management of that controversy was entrusted during the early part of Elizabeth's reign. . . . It is enough with them to show that the government by archbishops and bishops is ancient and allowable; they never venture to urge its exclusive claims, or to connect the succession with the validity of the Holy Sacraments.""

Extreme Anglicans are fond of charging Evangelicals with low views of the Church, but in reality the low views come from themselves, for there is scarcely any view of the Church so essentially "low" and narrow as the ordinary socalled "Catholic" conception. Those who believe in the view of the Church as the Body of Christ taught by St. Paul in Ephesians can never have any but truly high views of that community of which Christ Himself is the Head, and no view that does not give special attention to the Ephesian aspect of the Church can rightly be called "Catholic". Dr. Hodgkin in his recent interesting volume of Essays (The Trial of Our Faith) calls attention to the way in which the word "Catholic" has become entirely changed, if not distorted, from its original beautiful universalism:

"This is surely true of the word Catholic in its real use in the present actual world in which we live, however different may be its ideal signification, that it is a term not of inclusion but of exclusion that the chief charm of it, to most of those who use it lies in the fact that it does not connote a universal Christian

Preface to Hooker's Works, p. 59.

Church: that it is as they conceive, their own special and peculiar heritage into which the multitude of heretics round them have no right to enter."

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In opposition to all such narrow and exclusive ideas the Evangelical position is expressed in the words of Ignatius; "Where Christ is, there is the Catholic Church", and if it be asked, Where is Christ? the answer is as obvious as it can be: Where the Holy Spirit is. And if people persist in inquiring again, Where is the Holy Spirit? the reply is equally obvious: Where the fruit of the Holy Spirit is. Those who wish to know where are the individuals composing the true Church can easily discover this for themselves if they wish to do so. The Church is "the blessed company of all faithful people", and the words of Bishop Wilberforce, applied originally to R. W. Sibthorpe, are equally applicable to Newman, Pusey, and the other leaders of the extreme movement, for all of them "held the pŵтоν yeúdos that unity is to be gained by members of the Church Catholic through union with one visible center". 59 As a simple matter of historical fact there never has been a unit of organization in the Christian Church from the moment that the earliest body of Christians left Jerusalem for other places. Unity is not dependent upon the unit of a visible center any more than it is on unanimity of doctrine, or uniformity of ritual or organization.

Another thought instinctively arises as to how far Newman's Christianity really represents the true Christianity of Christ and the New Testament. Although he found peace and satisfaction in his union with the Roman Church, and especially in his devotion to the Sacrament, it cannot be said that his life was happy, or that it expressed and recommended what the Bible calls "the joy of the Lord". "As years go on", he records in his diary, "I have less sensible devotion and inward life." He even notes a change in his own physical expression:

"Till the affair of No. 90 and my going to Littlemore, I had my mouth half open, and commonly a smile on my face-and from that time onwards my mouth has been closed and contracted, and the muscles are so set now, that I cannot but look grave and forbidding."

In a very pathetic letter written to Keble in 1863 the closing words seem to betoken some great hidden sorrow:

"You are always with me a thought of reverence and love, and there is nothing I love better than you, and Isaac, and Copeland, and many others I could name, except Him Whom I ought to love best of all and supremely. May He Himself, Who is the overabundant compensation for all losses, give me His own presence, and then I shall want nothing and desiderate nothing, but none but He can make up for the loss of those old familiar faces which haunt me continually."

Canon Scott Holland notices this feature in the Biography:

"The hopeless incapacity of Rome to understand and use Dr. Newman gave him those thirty-five miserable years which the piteous photographs in the book make visible. The only thing I regret in the book is the publication of that pitiful picture of Dr. Newman seated in a chair with Father Ambrose St. John It is too depressing, and serves to explain the overwhelming pathos of that sight at Littlemore, in 1868, recorded by Canon Irvine, who saw, leaning over the Lych Gate, sobbing as in deep trouble, the worn, broken figure of a poorly dressed old man, with the collar of his old grey coat pulled up to hide his face, and the flaps of his hat pulled down, so that Canon Irvine could not persuade himself that it was really Dr. Newman, there by the wall."

It is therefore impossible to avoid pressing home the question as to whether Rome provides that strong, assured, and really buoyant Christianity which we know is the predominant mark of the life depicted in the pages of the New Testament. In a recent book already quoted, there is a reference to Newman which is very much to the point:

"I cannot read the Apologia, I cannot look at his portrait, with the face so furrowed by anxiety and distress, without feeling that his predominant emotion was fear, fear lest after all his searchings and strivings the Almighty should cast him into Hell because he did not belong to the true Church. Looking at that face, I cannot feel that the Gospel was to him really 'Glad Commonwealth, March, 1912.

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Tidings'. I am sure that he knew something of the Spirit of the Lord, but, owing to a certain morbidness of his nature, not to him did the Spirit of the Lord bring the rightful liberty." It is also necessary to ask how far Newman's influence can be said to have affected the Modernist Movement in the Roman Church. It is true that Mr. W. S. Lilly, in the Nineteenth Century and After for March, urges that Pope Pius X has settled this question by his letter expressive of sympathy with Newman. But in spite of this no one can doubt the close affinity between the Doctrine of Development as held by Loisy and the original idea as set forth by Newman. Very many are of the opinion that, as the Times review remarked,

"the seal set on Newman's work by Leo XIII has been roughly broken by the famous Encyclical Pascendi, directed in 1907 against the Modernists by Pope Pius X."

And this, to quote the same writer, "raises once more the whole question of Newman's position and work in the Roman Church". Most people will agree with Mr. A. W. Hutton who writes as follows:

"While it is true enough to say that Newman was no modernist, and, indeed, had none of the learning that might have enabled him to see the strength of the modernist position-while he would, in fact, have shuddered at the conclusions arrived at by Loisy and others-there are here and there in his Catholic writings modernist germs, and his Grammar of Assent is not at all on the orthodox lines which both Leo XIII and Pius X have insisted upon as indispensable. So that, while it is necessary just at present for the honour of Leo XIII and for the conciliation of many Catholics, both in England and elsewhere, who regard Newman as their spiritual father and the justifier of their remaining within the fold, to maintain his substantial orthodoxy, there is reason to anticipate that some years hence what is now the mystery of Newman will have become the tragedy of Newman, and that (as was the case with Rosmini, thirty-three years after his death) propositions from Newman's works will be formally condemned at Rome, and the dream of his being proclaimed a Doctor of the Church, and so the inaugurator of a new era for Catholicism will be at an end."

As we have read his biography we could not help asking

ourselves from time to time whether it was at all likely to bring converts to the Roman Church. We know how fruitful in this respect the Apologia was, and even those who are farthest removed from Rome feel the fascination and force of that most charming work. But our impression was that the picture of the sad and chequered life in this biography was not likely to be of any service to the Roman Communion, and we were particularly interested to find our own view confirmed by the writer in the New York Nation, who said that

"we know of no book composed by a Catholic which is more likely to deter sympathizers with the Church from entering the bondage of Rome".

One thought seems to stand out beyond al others as we recall the various incidents of Newman's life. It is all so pathetic. It is unspeakably sad to think that a man of his marvellous powers should have been almost entirely broken on the wheel of a hard Romanism when he might have been the magnificent champion of pure Christianity in an age which needed him and it beyond all else. The words of the leading article in the Times go to the heart of the matter:

"Touching and full of that sweetness which belonged to him beyond all men are many of the letters and details relating to his occupations at the Oratory. But readers of Mr. Ward's volumes will think sometimes of a prisoned giant who uses his strength no longer, though he has only to put out his hands to pull down the edifice in which he dwells. To be frank, we are not quite sure whether all the men about him fully understood the splendid captive whom they had made; whether some of them were not more puzzled than proud of their acquisition. The thinker, the searcher, the controversialist, the combatant against the errors of a generation uncongenial to him, was transformed into the passive saint; and the picture which we have of him as such is precious. But something, it may be, was lost, something perhaps left unsaid, by reason of this peaceful isolation. On the memorial slab upon his tomb were engraved at his own desire the words 'Ex umbris et imaginibus in veritatem'. Could he have attained that end by other paths than those in which at last he found himself? Children fear to go into the dark and old men into the light-at least many do; was that his case also?"