to the offering on the first Good Friday, and that the later phrase, προσδεχόμενος καὶ διαδιδόμενος, when substituted for it, transfers the epoch of the Offering of the Saviour to the epoch of the Reception by Himself of the Eucharistic Sacrifice, and the distribution of Himself.' (S. p. xlii.) Both phrases refer to the same action of our Lord. Both occur together, as explanatory of each other, not as mutually destructive, in a prayer of incense, early in St. James's Liturgy.

Σὺ γὰρ εἶ μόνος ἅγιος, ὁ ἁγιάζων καὶ ἁγιαζόμενος, προσφέρων τε καὶ προσφερόμενος καὶ τοῖς πιστοῖς μεταδιδόμενος. (S. p. 218.)

This sentence is shortened in a fourteenth-century MS. (S. p. 219), and is shortened still more in the present textus receptus. (H. p. 27.) Surely all the above phrases in their varying forms refer with more or less clearness to the ancient Eucharistic truth, that Christ is both priest and victim in the Altar Feast. Αὐτὸς θύμα, αὐτὸς ἱερεύς (Epiphanius, Har. lib. ii. tom. I; Hær. lv. § 4); 'Et sacerdos est, ipse offerens, ipse et oblatio.' (Augustin. De Civit. Dei, x. 21.)

One further omission perhaps deserves to be noticed. In all the extant MSS. of St. James's Liturgy, the Great Intercession contains a prayer that the divisions of the Churches may cease: Παῦσον τὰ σχίσματα τῶν ἐκκλησίων (S. pp. 286-7); but the phrase has been dropped, as if it was derogatory to the Church of Christ to hint at the existence of schisms within her fold. (H. p. 44.)

Here we must pause, not for want of materials, but for want of space. Several of the subdivisions of this Article, especially (v.), might have been elaborated to almost any length. Numerous points of interest have been passed over, especially with reference to the growth of peculiar ritual : e.g. the infusion of boiling water (in the Constantinopolitan rite) into the consecrated contents of the chalice, a practice so sharply objected to by the Latins, so variously and ingeniously defended by the Greeks. (Goar, Eucholog. p. 148.) But enough has been advanced to prove that considerable changes have taken place from time to time in the Greek Liturgies. They have not come down to us unaltered from Apostolic times. They are not to be treated as if they were exempt from the ordinary accidents which befall MSS., or as if every word was sacred. Before an argument is deduced from any passage, the literary history of that passage must be examined into. One cannot but feel some regret that so eminent a student of Eastern Liturgies as the late Dr. Neale has not been spared to see the publication of Dr.

Swainson's last volume. If it dashes in pieces some lofty ideals of the unchanging character of the Service Books of the Eastern Church; if it demolishes some of the arguments advanced by recent Liturgiologists on the strength of the 'Textus ad normam hodie acceptam,' it nevertheless clears the atmosphere, and assures us of what we ought all to have conjectured beforehand, that, as in the case of the Liturgies of the Western Church, and as in the case of Holy Scripture itself, only to a far greater degree, the text of Greek Liturgies has been subjected from time to time to variations, corruptions, expansions, omissions, and interpolations.

ART. III. RELIGION AND SCIENCE: BISHOP TEMPLE'S BAMPTON LECTURES.

The Relations between Religion and Science. The Bampton Lectures for 1884. By the Right Rev. FREDERICK, LORD BISHOP OF EXETER. (London, 1885.)

IT is a recognized fact that a formidable portion of the intellectual obstacles to religion is based on the supposed opposition between theology and science. That there cannot be any real opposition between the verities of the Christian faith and those of science, between God's revelation of Himself in the Church and His revelation of Himself in nature, the most ardent believer is ready to acknowledge. But it is not at all surprising that our partial glimpses of truth or our imperfect definitions of it should be sometimes difficult to reconcile with each other. For example, it is easy to see how the fact that children suffer in consequence of their parents' sins may be so presented as to conflict with an exalted à priori idea of Divine justice. Or-to take an example which perplexes many thoughtful minds at the present time-if we accept the scientific doctrine that the human race is the highest term of a progressive evolution from the lowest form of life, the problem arises how man came to be so differentiated from the rest of the animal world as to be capable of being described as a being made in the image of God.' This is one of

1 An ingenious suggestion is put forward by Bishop Temple to the effect that instead of man's sharing a long line of descent with monkeys and other vertebrates, his organism is the product of a special line of development which branched off at a very early period and in the course

a large class of difficulties which have been brought into especial prominence by the scientific progress of the century. The difficulty in these cases arises from the idea that the religious view necessarily involves the breach of a definite, settled, and ascertained uniformity of nature. A demonstrated certainty of science is imagined to be in opposition to the unproved beliefs of religion.

Many of the points supposed to be at issue between science and religion have been handled from time to time in these pages. Considering, however, the importance of the subject and the serious nature of the stumbling-block presented to many minds by what appear to us to be misapprehensions, we welcome the opportunity afforded by the publication of Bishop Temple's Bampton Lectures for offering some remarks upon the general question.

We must, however, preface those remarks with our hearty congratulations to the diocese of London on the appointment of Bishop Temple to preside over it. His indefatigable energy in the office of a bishop has been exhibited in the diocese which has lost him, while his thorough grasp of the intellectual difficulties of the day is clearly proved by the volume before us. It needs not to be argued how urgently the first of these qualifications is required, and how desirable is the second, in the occupant of the see of London.

Attempts have been made in recent years, by representative men on both sides, so to mark out the provinces of religion and science as to prevent the possibility of any conflict between the two. On the one hand the votary of science, while declaring that he alone is in possession of real knowledge, allows sometimes the importance of religion as furnishing an ideal of conduct, without which any system of education would be defective. He admits the subjective value of religion, or at least of some of the elements of religion. He acknowledges, for example, the elevating and purifying influence of the study of the life and character of our Lord. But, according to him, religious beliefs are nothing more than an imaginative presentment of the facts of life portrayed upon an imaginative background. They are mere creations of the mind, and consequently cannot possibly conflict with the substantial certainties of science.

On the other hand, there have been defenders of religion who, while maintaining the equal validity of religious and scientific truth, have imagined that a short and easy solution of the of which it was rendered fit to be that of the rational head of the terrestrial creation.

difficulties might be found in the assertion that the subjectmatter of religion is quite different from that of science. According to this view the man of science and the man of religion have not really stood face to face on common ground. Religion and science are said to be occupied with separate spheres of thought. Accordingly, one writer on this side has maintained that the dogmas of faith are above and beyond the reach of science, so that she can neither prove nor disprove them; while another writer, arguing from the undoubted fact that religious considerations are left entirely out of sight when the mathematician is investigating the properties of a curve, has declared that while science is not 'atheistic' it might properly be called 'atheous.'

We cannot regard either of these attempts to provide a modus vivendi for religion by the side of science as either theoretically sound or likely to be practically useful.

That the theory which denies objective validity to religious ideas cannot possibly be accepted by the defenders of religion it is scarcely necessary to say. It is a fundamental contention on their part that the truths of religion are truths, and not baseless visions; and, under the conviction that religious ideas represent the most solemn realities, their aim is so to marshal the evidence that the inquiring Christian may know the certainty (Tv ảσþáλɛiav) of those things' wherein he has been instructed. In short, religion, according to them, rests upon a foundation no whit less solid than science does. Deferring for the moment all argument on this point, we maintain that if this position were surrendered the so-called religion which would remain would have no practical value. But what would remain? Is it quite clear that the 'Catholic legend,' as the Christian creed would then be styled, as indeed by some anti-Christian writers it is already styled, would form the basis of the authorized or the fashionable instruction in moral duty? It is notorious that there are in our day social, moral, and political movements some of whose promoters would be far from willing to accept the New Testament as furnishing a perfect standard of human conduct. But, even granting that the commanding excellence of the Christian ideal must assure it at least pre-eminent rank, the question still remains what the practical value, what the constraining force of the Gospel narrative would be when it should be regarded as mythical. To form an estimate of this we must compare it with the constraining force exerted at the present time by some acknowledged legend. The difference, if any, could be only in regard to degree. In regard to kind there

would be no difference; for any influence arising from the thought of Divine Power or Will must be considered to have vanished from both alike. A legend, however beautiful, is after all a legend, and nothing more. Nor do we see how there would be any difference in degree. Zero multiplied even by infinity is still zero; and if the force of even the most beautiful of pagan legends is absolutely nil, if the endurance of Prometheus on behalf of man, if the courage of Hercules, is powerless to influence human conduct, why should it be otherwise with the self-sacrifice of the Divine Son of We do know, let it be remembered, how powerful an influence for good has been exerted during eighteen centuries by the Christian creed accepted as true. We do know how the belief in the Divine Redeemer as, to quote Bishop Temple's words, 'a living present power, able to give strength and victory in the conflicts of the soul,' has transformed individuals, and through them society. But if the cause cease to act it is a scientific principle that the effect will be looked for in vain.

Perhaps, however, it may be contended that the life of Christ must needs exercise the sort of influence that attaches to the biography of any exceedingly good and unselfish man. The contention may be readily granted, but only with the proviso that the character of Christ as drawn by the Evangelists is substantially true. We cannot stop to question how far this admission would be consistent with the negations on which rests the theory under discussion. It is, however, scarcely to be denied that the enthusiasm of the first preachers of Christianity is absolutely inexplicable unless that proviso be granted. However reluctant men may be to admit the historic truth of the supernatural element in the Gospel, however ingenious may be the attempts to discredit the authenticity of the New Testament writings (we remark by the way that such attempts have not hitherto met with much success), yet the spread of Christianity must assuredly be traced back to the undying zeal of a few men who had caught one and the same spirit from one and the same source. To take the lowest ground, the courage of these men, their ardent love for mankind, their devotion to duty, their martyrdom, testify to the supreme excellence of One whom they had personally known, to the attractive beauty of His character whom they acknowledged as their Master. It is, in fact, not more certain that Julius Cæsar existed, and that he was a skilful and successful commander, than that Jesus of Nazareth existed and was known by a circle of intimate friends as an example of