as he was.* Moreover, the religious teachers of these days are possessed with a principle of thorough eclecticism. They are harmonists of doctrines and ordinances, every man a centre, forming his own system, one adopting as his principle a so-called affinity of doctrines, and another the sensible cravings of man's nature; both proceeding by one and the same rule, and differing only in the accidental mode of its application. It is true that all mysteries converge to their point of emanation in the divine mind; and the system of the Church Catholic is in absolute harmony with the wants of God's redeemed creatures. But neither is the convergency of doctrines, nor the harmony of ordinances, the test of truth to us, for the latter may not be felt, nor the former perceptible. To us the proof of Catholic truth is an external witness, in kind the same (although in degree continually diminishing) with that which attests the fact and inspiration of Holy Scripture.

Before we close this review, we feel it right to plead guilty to a charge of partiality. Δεῖ γὰρ προεπιπλήττειν. We confess that we have consciously shrunk from noting many forms of opinion and modes of expression; we shall not, therefore, be understood to sanction them. We think that no man can read these Journals without feeling that there is a living bond of fellowship, unaided by sight or sense, bringing all members of the body to a most real, but most mysterious intimacy. "And shall not that recognition be universal? Think ye that ye shall know me then, because ye have known me now; but that my father, or one, it may be, that was long ago a Bishop of this Church, ye shall not know hereafter, because ye have not known him here? Ye shall know them all. They that shall meet in the resurrection shall not know each other by looking on the face. There shall be a mutual knowledge with a higher intuition. All shall see, and more perfectly than even Prophets here are wont. They shall see by a vision which is of God, for that all shall be full of God."+

We look then upon these Journals with an awful veneration, as upon the slough of a pure spirit, which has striven, and overcome, and cast its earthly weeds. And will add one only word more, and that of warning to such as may read the record of this saint's warfare with an indolent and listless spirit. We believe

"Read through in my palanquin," writes Mr. M., "the Missionary Magazine for 1805, and almost felt glad that I was out of the way of such vapid religionism as is too prevalent in England. Though they are the people of God that write, as I do not doubt, yet, alas, how unedifying are most of the pages of a modern magazine, though religious! May I myself be kept from that regard to public opinion, which in such a melancholy degree seems to actuate so many of the ministers, missionary societies, and missionaries of the present day."--Journals, ii. 109.

↑ S. Aug, Serm. in Diebus Pasch. xiv. ä.

that no man can read it with safety, except he that will in some measure put his shoulder to the yoke of a like mortifying discipline. The Church, at this moment, is making loud and urgent demands for men of fervent devotion, unshrinking renunciation of self, and deadness to the world. To such as have heart to follow in that way, Mr. Martyn is in very truth a burning and a shining light.

ART. V.—Memorials of Oxford. By James Ingram, D. D., President of Trinity College. 3 Vols. Oxford. Parker. MOST persons who fall in with this work would but consider it as a collection of beautiful prints, in illustration of one of the most beautiful cities in Europe. In consequence, they will be disposed to place it on their drawing table; a position, which serves to confirm the impression which the first view of it creates. And it really is a most interesting publication, considered merely as a work of art; but those who have been led to cast their eyes on the letter-press, will find a kind of matter there of a very different complexion from the running accompaniment, in large type and small sense, which, in such publications is commonly used to swell the volume without hurting its character.

Dr. Ingram, however, the learned writer of the letter-press, is evidently not a man to figure as a mere chevalier aux dames, or to serve as an elegant appendage to the fashion of the hour. Judging by the work before us, we should say he was as little like a writer in an annual or album as any author we ever read. He is, apparently, one of a race of men, now almost extinct, who used to live all their days both in and for the University. A place like Oxford, it need scarcely be said, alters very much in the outward characteristics of its society, in the course of a very few years; and more so, in a time like this, when alterations and developments of a serious nature are taking place in the structure of society in general. The light which shines so brightly in the metropolis and other great towns, has shot not a few of its piercing rays into the groves and halls of academical repose; newspapers, magazines, and reviews, cannot possibly be made contraband; the fact cannot be kept concealed from their inmates that they are the object of dislike to a considerable portion of the community, and of assault in certain very influential assemblies; and, in consequence, there has been, more or less, a revival of that ancient energetic spirit, that resolve to take part and to have a voice in the world's matters, which is a distinguishing mark of the University in history. Its members have long determined that Church and State shall neither do nor suffer, without their having a share in the

doing or suffering. The circumstances of the times seem to force such a course upon a place, which has never been a mere abode of the muses, but has ever twined the myrtle round the sword; yet at the same time, granting this, so much is clear, that the muses suffer by it, and do not thank the times for its necessity.

They have to mourn over the gradual disappearance of classical taste, antiquarian research, and local knowledge. Oxford was a place of leisurely thought, of multifarious but undigested erudition, of wayward irregular exertion, of enthusiastic college feeling, of repose relieved by the graceful or splendid sallies of wit. It was a place equally favourable for genius and for abuses. No examinations or class-lists directed the mind either of tutor or pupil to definite objects and necessary preparations, or raised their eyes from the walls of their College to the University schools, and from the schools to the busy walks of life. Oxford was their home, their resting-place, and had both the advantages and disadvantages of a home; it was a very dear place, but a very idle one. It was not a place of passage, or of lodging for a year or two, or a means to an end, so frequently as it now is. Such a state of things, had its capabilities been fully understood, might have been productive of most beneficial results; the fault was, not that inducements for exertion were not supplied from without, but that there were no active principles stirring within. One good effect, however, actually followed; very few Fellows of Colleges, we suspect, could now be found, who are well acquainted with the history or antiquities of their own society; how it grew up into its present state, and by whose munificence it has been gradually enriched. On the other hand, talk with an old incumbent visiting the place for a few days, and, if a resident yourself, you will be surprised, if you have not cause to be ashamed, at his accurate knowledge of the localities and peculiarities of a place where your outward man has lived perchance for mind has been away. but years, While you have been, rightly or wrongly, absorbed in ecclesiastical proceedings or scientific associations, he knows all about the College, from the curious show-books of the library, and the number in full of old silver tankards in the hall, down to the excellence of the pumpwater, or the make of the common-room chairs. Such is the difference between the past age and the present;-between this busy anxious day, and a time when Oxford was loved on its own account, and was enjoyed with scarce a thought of what was beyond it.

your

The learned president of Trinity College, who seems to have had a most efficient co-adjutor in Mr. Parker, the publisher, has

shown in the work before us, to what good account a well-stored mind may turn devotion towards a place which is beautiful as youth and venerable as age; and since his antiquarian lore is very uncommon at present, and may have escaped attention under the fascination of Messrs. Mackenzie and Le Keux's share in the work, we think it may be interesting here to put together some leading facts relative to the early history of the University, which he has scattered through it, before or apart from the existence of colleges. We call them facts, in an antiquarian sense, not as ignorant that much may be said for and against every assignable point of past history, but in order to intimate that it is our intention, not to dispute or investigate, but to surrender ourselves to the pleasing imagination that there is such a thing as certainty attainable by the human mind, as regards matters which the eye has not seen.

Little can be narrated in any connected way concerning the University previous to the Norman conquest. The ravages of the Danes, civil troubles, and the debased state of religion, interrupted and dissipated, at least the records, if not the schools and studies themselves of the peaceful place; and the scanty glimpses which are left to us are like the broken remembrances with which we retrace that first mysterious portion of our childhood, ere memory has yet become continuous, or we come to live in the thought of our own identity. However, amid the dim notices of almost fabulous ages, on which the institutions existing in later times force us back, we are led to dwell upon one passage of Saxon history, both from its interest and the satisfactory evidence on which its main outline rests,—the history of St. Frideswide. It seems, that about the year 727 a certain governor, provost, or viceroy, "subregulus," as he is called, of the name of Didan, ruled over a large portion of the city of Oxford, with dignity and honour. His wife's name was Saffrida; and their daughter was called Frides wide. Having received a religious education from a female of eminent sanctity, this young lady not only embraced the monastic life herself, but induced twelve other of her equals, of respectable families, to do the like. Her mother dying about this time, Didan seeking consolation, according to the fashion of those times, in some work of piety, employed himself in the construction of a conventual Church within the precincts of the city; and having dedicated it in honour of St. Mary and All Saints, he committed it to the superintendence of his daughter. This Church, which was known by the name of "St. Mary of Oxford prope Tamesin," or "on the Thames," was the rudiment of the present Cathedral, as the priory attached to it was of Christ Church.

Frideswide's Priory was, even from the first, something beyond a simple religious foundation. She died October 19th, 740, and was buried in her own church: but even before her death, or shortly after, the king of Mercia, in whose territory Oxford lay, (Ethelbald,) constructed certain inns for the advancement of learning, in connexion with the sacred edifice. Alfred, 150 years later, after wresting the city from the Danes, restored them. Nothing is known of her foundation for another hundred years, that is, till A. D. 1000, by which date the priory of St. Frideswide had been richly endowed, its territories increased, and its church enlarged. Oxford was, at that time, the metropolis of Mercia, and had been a favourite seat both of Saxon and Danish monarchs. King Ethelred (1004) built the tower, which, with an additional Norman story and spire, is still standing. So great was the king's satisfaction at his own improvements, that he calls it, in the half-modernized orthography of an extant MS., "myn owne Mynster in Oxenford." Another hundred years brought a fresh series of changes; the nuns were gone, never to return; secular canons had succeeded, had fallen into disorder, and in turn been dispossessed; and in their place an austere Norman, chaplain to Henry I., was made the prior of an establishment of regulars. Under this form the foundation remained till the time of Wolsey, when those further changes were made which brought it into its present shape. Meanwhile, the prior and canons of St. Frideswide were some of the most learned aud scientific persons of their times, and their patroness was proportionably honoured. Her relics, it seems to be clearly ascertained, were, in 1180, translated, in Wood's words, "from an obscure to a more noted place in the Church," being deposited in a reliquary, which Dr. Ingram supposes to remain to this day; miracles are said to have followed; rich offerings were made at her shrine, and ample endowments added to her foundation. A more splendid shrine was dedicated for the purpose of receiving her remains in 1289, and one still more splendid, about 1480. Sermons were preached at her cross, the university authorities went in annual procession to her altar, and as late as 1434, she is called in a public instrument, "the special advocate of the flourishing University of Oxford."

Such is the history of the earliest endowment for learning, in a place which was destined to be so fruitful in noble institutions. The next that is to be noticed, brings us back to the important era which, while it forms a sort of commencement of our civil history, brought the University also into a new stage of its existtence. Only ten years had passed after the troubles attending