lation of what is just going to be said in English. But this is not so with Andrewes; his Latin and Greek and Hebrew has a reason, whether as the ipsissima verba of what he is quoting, or as adding something to the point and clearness and exactness of what he is saying. His Latin composition, in the Opuscula and the controversy with Bellarmin, is perhaps livelier and readier than his formal English; but it is not the living, lucid, limpid tongue of the Middle Ages, but the artificial classicised Latin that resulted from the Renaissance. Of his Greek perhaps no specimen remains outside the Devotions. 2. As an ecclesiastic Andrewes was the most notable man of his day in England. He was rising under Elizabeth and might earlier have taken the lead if he had been willing to accept the bishoprics that were offered him at the price of the sacrilege which he loathed, the sacrifice of their revenues to the Tudor rapacity. Under James I he soon found his level. His experience was varied and representative. As Catechist of his College, as Chaplain to the President of the North and to Whitgift, as Vicar of S. Giles' and canon of Southwell, S. Paul's, and Westminster, and Dean of the last, and as bishop successively of Chichester, Ely and Winchester, he had experience of most of the possible spheres and conditions of ecclesiastical life. And in them all he represented a new type which was emerging after the degradation of the preceding period. What the general standard was and what he thought of it, can be gathered from his Convocation sermon in 1593,1 where he holds up the mirror to the clergy, and especially to the bishops, and lashes their unworthinesstheir sloth and neglect and indifference, their want of learning and the ineptitude of their preaching, their servility to the great, their low standard of life, their laborious solicitude for their own interests and neglect of those of their flocks and of the good of the Church, their indifference as well about error in doctrine and life as about the edification of the faithful, their spoliation of the Church and venal dispensations and general rapacity, their scandalous ordinations, their simony and sacrilege and the prostitution of ecclesiastical censures. This, and more, is what men think of them, and he tells them that it is true, and warns them that men's eyes are on them, and that if they will not attend to their flocks, their flocks will 1 Opuscula posthuma pp. 29 sqq.

soon attend to them. It is interesting to compare this sermon with Colet's famous Convocation sermon eighty years before. After sixty years of professed reformation, the state of things is very much what it was; only Andrewes' picture is darker and his chastisement more severe. From this, and from the inquiries in his Visitation Articles something can be gathered of what he thought the standard of clerical life ought to be and of what he aimed at in his own life. There is not much recorded of the details of his ecclesiastical life. To the generality he would chiefly be known as a preacher and as the great preacher of his day. He was a 'painful' preacher, taking infinite trouble with his sermons; he said of himself that if he preached twice in a day, he prated once. Of his sermons, besides the famous 96, there survive the 19 on Prayer and the Lord's Prayer, the 7 on the Temptation, a number of parochial sermons at S. Giles', and the lectures on the early chapters of Genesis given partly at S. Paul's, partly at S. Giles'. Their learning and compact matter indicate the perhaps over-severe standard he applied when he complained of the ignorant ineptitude of contemporary preaching. But as the most notable preacher of his day, he used his opportunity to rebuke and counteract the auricular profession,' as he calls it, of an age which exaggerated the importance of preaching, and to insist that the hearing of sermons is not the chief part of religious observance, and that the Word is the stimulus to devotion and is useless unless it issue in this and in its central highest act, the communion of the Eucharist. Perhaps the only detail of his spiritual ministration which is explicitly recorded is that as Prebendary of S. Pancras, and therefore ex officio Penitentiary, he attended in the north aisle of S. Paul's in Lent in readiness for any who desired to consult him. It is needless to say that this resulted in a charge of 'popery.' In his sermon on Absolution he expounds the doctrine and bearing of the power of the keys. For the exercise of the key of knowledge' he had qualified himself while at Cambridge and had become 'wellseen in cases of conscience' and acquired a reputation as a casuist. His sense of the neglect of this key he expresses in another sermon. I take it to be an error.. to think the fruits of repentance, and the worth of them, to be a matter any common man can skill of well enough; needs never ask

St John or St Paul what he should do; knows what he should do as well as St Paul or St John either. And that it is not rather a matter wherein we need the counsel and direction of such as are professed that way. Truly it is neither the least, nor the last, part of our learning to be able to give answer and direction in this point. But therefore laid aside and neglected by us, because not sought after by you. Therefore not studied, but by very few, quia nemo nos interrogat, because it is grown out of request quite. We have learned, I know not where, a new, a shorter course, which flesh and blood better likes of. Το pass the whole course of our life, and, in the whole course of our life, not to be able to set down, where, or when, or what we did, when we did that which we call repenting; what fruits there came of it; what those fruits might be worth. And but even a little before our death (and as little as may be), not till the world have given us over, then, lo, to come to our quid faciemus? to ask, "what we should do?" when we are able to do nothing. And then must one come, and (as we call it) speak comfortably to us, that is, minister to us a little Divinity laudanum, rather stupefactive for the present than doing any sound good; and so take our leaves to go meet with ira ventura. This way, this fashion of repenting, St John knew it not; it is far from his fructus dignos; St Paul knew it not; it is far from his opera digna. And I can say little to it, but I pray God it deceive us not.'1 In the 16th of his Visitation articles is an inquiry as to the violation of the seal of confession.

In the sermons again Andrewes complains of the want of worship and its expression in his day. Now, adoration is laid aside, and with the most, neglected quite. Most come and go without it, nay they scarce know what it is. And with how little reverence, how evil beseeming us, we use ourselves in the church, coming in thither, staying there, departing thence, let the world judge. Why? What are we to the glorious saints in heaven? Do not they worship thus? Off go their "crowns," down "before the throne they cast them," and "fall down" themselves after, when they worship. Are we better than they? Nay, are we better than his saints on earth, that have ever seemed to go toc far, rather than to come too short in this 1 Sermon Repent. and Fasting viii (i pp. 450 sq.).

point.' 'Our religion and cultus must be uncovered, and a barefaced religion; we would not use to come before a mean prince, as we do before the King of kings and Lord of lords, even the God of heaven and earth. "The four and twenty elders fell down before Him that sat on the throne, and worshipped Him that liveth for ever, and cast their crowns before His throne." The wandering eye must learn to be "fastened on Him' and "the work of justice" and "peace." The worship of the "knees" "to bow" and "kneel before the Lord their maker." Our feet are to "come before his face; for the Lord is a great God and a great King above all gods." Jacob though he were not able to stand or kneel, yet because he would use some corporal service "leaned upon his staff and worshipped God.". . . This must be done as duty due unto God. Accordingly, Andrewes was the ritualist' of his day. In Prynne's indictment of Archbishop Laud, there is produced a plan of Andrewes' chapel, and a description of his altar with its lights and cushions, the canister for the wafers and the basin for the oblations, the cruet for the 'water of mixture,' the credence and provision for the lavatory, the censer and incense-boat, copes and altar-cloths and veil.3 And in the Notes on the Book of Common Prayer there is an elaborate ceremonial of the altar, which if carried out to-day, would perhaps even now be surprising. Henry Isaacson, Andrewes' chaplain and biographer, remarks on the impression produced by the worship of the chapel at Ely: 'the souls of many that obiter came thither in time of divine service, were very much elevated, and they stirred up to the like reverend deportment. Yea some that had been there were so taken with it, that they desired to end their days in the bishop of Ely's chapel.' 5 But he did not enforce his own standard of worship on other people; he was content with the enjoying without the enjoining.'6

1 Serm. Gunpowder Treason ix (iv p. 374).

2 Serm. Temptation (v p. 554): cf. ib. pp. 60, 231, i p. 262, Opuscula posthuma p. 49.

3 'See Minor Works pp. xcvii sqq.

4 Minor Works pp. 151 sqq. Notice his frank assertion of the pagan analogues and origins of Christian ceremonies in A discourse of ceremonies (Cat. doct. p. 365 sqq.).

5 Minor Works p. xiii.

6 Fuller Church History xi 48.

3. The saintly character of the 'good bishop' was recognised by his contemporaries. His 'whiteness of soul' inspired reverence; and in the court of James I he alone could awe the royal chatterbox into some silence.1 Those who knew him dwell upon his zeal and piety, as illustrated by his hours of private devotion, the worship of his chapel, and his strict observance of Lent and Embertides and the other fasts; his charity and munificence, as exemplified by his large and ever-increasing and thoughtful alms during his lifetime, and his imaginative bequests, which were characteristically minute in their application, on his death; his fidelity in the discharge of his public duties, in the maintenance and improvement of the property entrusted to him in his several benefices, in the distribution of his patronage, and his hatred of simony and sacrilege and usury, and in the exercise of the influence which his position gave him for the promotion of the right men; his gratitude to his benefactors, in his care for them, their memory and their families; his generous hospitality, especially to scholars and strangers; his affability and geniality, his extraordinary kindness and 'wonderful memory' for persons and places, and his 'grave facetiousness'; and his modesty and humility.2

And all this was grounded in a large, clear and definite theology. From nescitis cometh no good; without knowledge the soul itself is not good. Nescitis quid petatis-no good prayer; adoratis quod nescitis-no good worship. And so, ignorant devotion, implicit faith, blind obedience all rebuked. Zeal, if not secundum scientiam, can not be secundum conscientiam.' 3 His theology is the Catholic Faith, neither pared away on the one hand, nor embellished with questionable deductions on the other. Compass Sion and go round about her. For one Canon given of God, two testaments, three symbols, the four first councils, five centuries and the series of Fathers therein, fix the rule of religion.' 4 So stated this might no doubt easily be criticised; but in substance it represents the defensible position arrived at consciously or unconsciously by the English Church. It repre

1 Ib. 46.

2 See Minor Works pp. xii-xxv.

3 Serm. Gunpowder Tr. iii (iv p. 250).

• Opuscula p. 90; Respons. ad Bellarm. p. 26.