We must, however, before we conclude, still more strongly enforce upon our readers, that these slight, however elegant and finished pieces, must not be considered, any more than the selection from the Arundines,' as representing the highest excellence attained even in very modern times by our Latin poetry. We should not otherwise be doing justice either to the illustrious men,' who might contribute things written in a far loftier vein to our proposed collection, or to the intrinsic value of the poetry itself. We are admonished to repeat this caution by a small volume, printed two years ago, containing some most remarkable specimens of Lucretian verse, which would not have been disowned, the editor boldly asserts, by Lucretius himself.* The editor holds them forth very judiciously as an encouragement and example to young Eton scholars, as they all belong to that school. The volume includes Gray's fragment de Principiis Cogitandi ;' two Eton or Cambridge exercises by the late master of Eton, Dr. Keate, and Mr. William Frere, the late master of Downing College; with the three triposes of Mr. Robert Smith-the friend of Canning, and brother of Sydney-on the Cartesian, Platonic, and Newtonian systems. Though we should doubtless have rather wished that Gray should have finished his Agrippina, or his English Didactic Poem-yet we would willingly have prolonged his life for the completion likewise of this noble Latin fragment. There is something in this kind of poetry singularly congenial with Latin verse: the three greatest productions of Roman poetry partake more or less of this character-the poem of Lucretius, the Georgics of Virgil, the Epistles of Horace. The somewhat elaborate and artificial diction of Roman verse, even in the best poets, contrasts with the easy simplicity of Greek: it wants freedom (we are warned by the name of Catullus not to speak too strongly) for the expression of fervent passion: it had not, it might seem that it was incapable of, tragedy. But Latin verse is the noblest vehicle for subjects which admit of study, and skill, and elaborate finish-where the expression should be condensed or expanded, either to enforce moral truth by some pregnant and apophthegmatic line, or to invest a dry and barren subject with foreign hues of picturesque beauty: here it moves in its own element; its masculine majesty and its suggestive richness have full scope. Nor can the young scholar be put to a severer test than in this kind of composition. It tries at once the acuteness of his intellect, which must clearly comprehend the philosophic thoughts, whether physical or moral, which he would array in words; his intimate *Fasciculus carminum stylo Lucretiano scriptorum; Auctoribus doctis quibusdam Viris, in sinu Regia Scholæ Etonensis, Musarum Disciplinâ olim institutis. Etona. 1839.' acquaintance acquaintance not merely with the whole texture of Lucretian language, or language which Lucretius would have used if necessary, but with all its finer, evanescent shades of meaning; and his fertility of illustration, which must be at once clear and precise, lest his meaning should evaporate into the vague and unintelligible; imaginative, lest he should be dry and barren; and still, while his fancy lets itself loose in this kind of illustrative comparison, it must be regulated and kept within the bounds of propriety and of natural association by the purest taste. The Latin poet (and a poet he must be, to succeed in this kind of composition) will have constantly to summon to his service unusual words, which must be genuine Latin, and of which he must know the very nicest and most intimate signification; and all this requires a complete mastery over a foreign and dead language, rarely attained, but, if attained, too intrinsically valuable to be allowed to wear out for want of exercise. We know not whether Mr. Robert Smith has continued to cultivate this remarkable talent: if he has, we could look to no quarter for such valuable contributions to a collection of Anglo-Latin poetry. Nor can we refrain from enriching our pages with one passage (we take it from the Cartesii Principia'), as a specimen of poems which, however their fame may have been great among their contemporaries, and may have descended in the direct line of Etonian celebrity to their revival in the small volume from which we quote, may be unknown to many scholars, both able and willing to appreciate their extraordinary excellence : 'Principio passim spatia indigesta tenebat Major abhinc rerum facies, et sanctior usus Idcirco levis ille fluor circum ambit opacos, Miscuerunt Miscuerunt sese, et cœlo luctantur aperto, Sol autem maris immensi spatia aurea circum Arduus ante omnes agitur Cyllenius Hermes; Proxima deinde tenet magni spatia ampla sereni Nec tu, Terra, tui mediâ in testudine mundi Ulteriora autem lævâ torrentia luce, Ultra animorum aciem, et nostræ confinia mentis. Ergo umbras sequimur tenues, et inania rerum Semina: nec mæstæ flerunt Phaethonta sorores, Stillantes vitreum foliis lacrymantibus imbrem, Curribus excussum patriis: nec conscia Latmi Luna videt nemora: aut stellata Atlantides ardent Virgineis Virgineis habitatæ animis:-apparet in alto Felix qui placidum sophiæ libaverit amnem! Quid tibi tantopere est, mortalis, multa querentem Nos autem lucis non intellecta cupido Alligat, atque animum dulcedine pascit inani." ART. VII.-THE LIBRARY OF ANGLO-CATHOLIC THEOLOGY. Oxford, 1841.-Vols. I. II. III. Ninety-six Sermons. By the Right Honourable and Reverend Father in God Lancelot Andrewes, sometime Lord Bishop of Winchester. IT T is not with any intention of entering into the personal controversy which is now prevailing in the Church, that we have taken up the present publication, however closely connected with it. Controversy, indeed, must arise, whenever truth is to be defended in the world; especially under any sound system, which, like the Church of England, holds its course steadily beneath the guidance of a higher power, swerving neither to the right nor to the left, presenting two fronts to two different antagonists, and embracing in its wise and tolerant moderation two different classes of minds, the two great recognised divisions of human nature. The very function and condition of the Church is to battle for the truth. And when the battle is earnest, however mixed with human errors, then we may be sure that men's minds are at least interested in the subject of religion; and that the Church is not paralysed, nor sleeping. A cloud of dust may be raised, but the dust is a proof of life and motion underneath. The real evil to be feared and avoided in religious, even more than in any other controversy, is personality. It is the gathering a contest contest round living individuals; the making their works a standard of opinion, or their names a watchword. It is the intrusion of private and party jealousies and interests into discussions, which above all others should be approached in charity, though they must be decided in truth. By this intrusion, not only half instructed and unchastened minds, but the worldly and unholy, are drawn into the conflict; subjects of which angels fear to speak' are profaned irreverently in common mouths and places; religion becomes part of the scandal of the day; until all men are ashamed to seem ignorant of it, and therefore speak of it with the boldness of ignorance. They take up the nickname, or the jest, or the calumnious tale forged probably by those who have an interest in distracting the Church, and thus drive the timid. into violent opposition, the strong into obstinacy, leaders into exasperation, followers into a blind servility, and all into party: while those who have the strength or the coolness to keep themselves aloof, look on; a few, as Christians, with sorrow; but the many, as worldly spectators gaze on a contest of gladiators. Yet we must not try to escape from the evil of such controversies by affecting indifference to them, or treating them as questions of words and names.' They are words, and names, but only as symbols of deep truths within them; and Christians must be interested in all that interests the Church. The alternative is, to clear them in our own minds, as much as possible, from all considerations of the day and of persons; and to examine them, where it can be done, in some past time, where, as we study, we inay possess our souls in quietness and humility; conversing rather with the dead than with the living; and sobered at the sight of even occasional harshness by the remembrance, that the hands which gave vent to it are now mouldering in the dust. With these feelings it may be satisfactory and interesting, without speaking of modern theories and writers, to look back to the old standard Theology of the English Church, and to ascertain the sentiments of our acknowledged great Divines on some of the debated questions of the present day. If we are afraid of party in the Church-that at least cannot be called a party which collects itself round those whom the Church has so long regarded as her own especial teachers. If we desire in any matters to resort to sounder principles than prevailed in the last century; no reform can be safe which does not proceed in a track already marked outand we shall find one here. If peace and unity are to be sought; it must be by rallying round authorities whom all sides may be willing to acknowledge, or at least none can repudiate. And if assistance is wanted in determining questions, apart from a formal decision of the Church; it is wise to ask it of those whom the Church |