EEMINISCENCES. Ivii 



sure. ^ Apology fw the Bible ? I didn't know it needed an apology/ 

 So cried bluff George III ; so thought my friend. Heartily as he 

 revered Truth's champions in Thirlwall, Julius Hare, Maurice, from 

 the clash of debate he stood aloof. To him it was given, not ta 

 thread the tangled maze of doubt, but from dawn to sunset of life's 

 day to walk right onward in the light of his two Bibles — so, on the 

 6th of May, 1835, Edward Stanley bade him call them — God's works 

 and Word. Sir Henry Wotton, stunned with the din of strife, left, 

 with his parting breath,* a warning to mankind : 'Itch of disputing, 

 scab of churches.' By this itch Babington's withers were unwrung. 

 One very dear to him, Fenton Hort, plunging into the sea of meta- 

 physics, rose from the bath braced for action. Did he therefore scorn 

 unclouded child-like belief ? Nay, he half envied it. Rebuking 

 credulity — on the side of 'Nay,' not less than of 'Yea' — as 'a 

 dangerous disease of the time,' he confesses : — 



The vast multitudes of simple Christian people who know no difficulties,, 

 and need know none for themselves, are of course not in question here. 

 Fundamental enquiries constitute no part of their duty; and though the 

 exemption disqualifies them for some among the higher offices of service to 

 their fellows, it leaves them perhaps the more capable of others, according to 

 the Divine allotment of various responsibility. 



What doughtier master of tongue-fence than Schleiermacher ? 

 Yet even Dollinger asks : 'When all is said, where is the harvest ?'^ 

 Professor John Campbell Shairp gives body to a thought after 

 which many minds were groping, Cardale Babington's earnestly aa 

 any:— 



I have a life in Christ to live, 



I have a death in Cheist to die; — 



And must I wait till Science give 



All doubts a full reply ? 



Nay rather, while the sea of doubt 



Is raging wildly round about, 



Questioning of life, and death, and sin, 

 Let me but creep within 



Thy fold, Cheist, and at Thy feet 

 Take but the lowest seat. 



And hear Thine awful voice repeat, 



In gentlest accents, heavenly sweet, 

 Come unto Me, and rest; 

 Believe Me, and be blest. 



J. E. B. M. 



By Professor Liveing, F.R.S. 



{Reprinted from the "Cambridge Review" October 17th 1895.) 



Generations come and go so quickly, and changes, not only of 

 men, but of the customs and whole procedure of the University, 

 succeed one another nowadays with such rapidity, that the past> 



* His epitaph in Latin : ' Here lies the first author of the sentence : Itch, etc. 

 Seek his name elsewhere.' The passage cited occurs in a panegyric on Charles I. 



