writings of primitive Christendom, and disposed in long and orderly series.' Accordingly, collected from thirty-one several sources, beginning with St. Peter (2 Pet. iii. 15, 16), St. Paul (1 Cor. xiv. 37, 38), St. John (xiv. 26), Clemens Romanus (c. xlvii.), and ending with Eusebius, about seventy-four important quotations follow. The same volume, by the way, supplies (at p. 251) another interesting illustration of the President's favourite and truly Anglican method, namely, an appeal to primitive antiquity on the subject of the Invocation of Saints. Even this, however, was not the President's latest literary effort. When Lord Derby became Chancellor of the University in 1853, it seemed to him a fitting occasion for producing a strena (so he phrased it), or auspicious offering; and there were three distinct subjects on which he had thought much, and collected something important, which, carefully edited, he foresaw would constitute an interesting pamphlet. This little work, extending to twenty-five pages, appeared in the beginning of December, 1853. He was then in his ninty-ninth year. He called it Tres breves Tractatus:' the first, De primis episcopis;' the second, 'S. Petri Alexandrini episcopi fragmenta quædam;' the third, S. Irenæi illustrata pois, in qua ecclesia Romana commemoratur.' They are introduced by the following brief notice : 6 'Inasmuch as there is perpetual discussion among us at the present day concerning Apostolical Succession, Episcopal Ordination, and the authority of the Church of Rome, I judged that I should be rendering useful service if I produced in a separate shape whatever remarks on these subjects I had already put forth in the Annotations to my "Reliquiæ Sacra." The object I had in view in thus amplifying and adding to my old materials was to illustrate how these several matters were accounted of in the beginning, in order that thus the truth might be the more firmly established. Farewell.' After which follows the President's note on the Council against Noëtus,* as enlarged by himself on two subsequent occasions, and now amplified and added to until it attains to more than twice its original bulk. Next come four fragments from the lost work of Peter Alex. 'De Paschate:' and these are followed by a restoration of the original text of a passage of Irenæus, of which the true sense is learnedly fixed, and shown not to support those pretensions which writers of the Romish communion have been apt to build upon it. It was remarked by many how freely during the last year or *Reliqq.,' iv. 247, see p. 526, and v. 369. two of his life the President alluded to his own end; speaking of his approaching departure as one might speak of a journey which had long been in contemplation, and which must needs be undertaken very soon. Among his papers were found two rough drafts of his own intended epitaph, which may perhaps be thus exhibited :: He 'O all ye who come here, in your Christian and charitable hope, wish peace and felicity, and a consummation of it afterwards, to the soul of Martin Joseph Routh, the last Rector of the undivided parish of Tylehurst, and brother of the pious foundress of this church. departed this life ; dying, as he had lived, attached to the Catholic Faith taught in the Church of England, and averse from all Papal and Sectarian innovations.' , aged But it should be stated that the writer had evidently found it impossible to satisfy himself with the opening sentence. At first he wrote, 'Of your charity and trust to God's mercy, wish peace and increase of bliss at Christ's coming:' and though he ran his pen through those words, he was loth to part with that sentiment. Of your Charity which hopeth the best, wish peace and final felicity,' presented itself as an alternative. Then, Of your charity' began to sound questionable. • In your Christian charity' seemed better; but this had given way to 'charitable hope,' when the pious writer seems to have been reminded of the impossibility of elaborating a sentence by processes like these. There perhaps never lived a scholar who found it more difficult to satisfy himself than Dr. Routh. A third and a fourth draft of the above inscription has been discovered. The fastidiousness of his taste in such matters was altogether extraordinary. It should be added that his inscriptions (and he wrote many) are for the most part singularly original and felicitous. They well deserve to be collected. But a document of a more important description than the President's epitaph remained unfinished for ever. He had postponed to the last month of the last year of his life the business of making a will; and inasmuch as the draft (prepared from instructions furnished a few days previous) was only sent to Dr. Ogilvie for signature on the 20th, the will was perforce never signed at all. He repeatedly asked for 'pen and ink' when it was too late. Such an anecdote is better than an homily. It is believed that at an earlier period he had made a will, which he subsequently cancelled. Very characteristic of the man is another incident, which for more reasons than one deserves to find here a record, and which also belongs to the last year; indeed to the last months, of his life. About year 6 About the 1851 he had had several conversations with Dr. Ogilvie (Professor of Pastoral Theology and Canon of Christ Church) respecting the doctrine of the Holy Eucharist : repeatedly formulating the result of his meditations—' meditations to which he had been led by views lately put forth in some quarters, but, according to his sound judgment and well-ordered affections, utterly irreconcilable with Holy Scripture or. the sentence of antiquity.' The desire to give expression to his own settled convictions on this great subject increased as he drew nearer to his end. In May and June 1854, on account of the existing differences about the Eucharist' (so he phrased it), the President again and again put into Dr. Ogilvie's hands a short written statement, accompanied with the remark that it is in all humility offered, as a strictly Scriptural exposition.' The following bears date 'June 5, 1854':The bread broken and the wine poured out, symbols in the Eucharist of the Body and Blood of Christ, impart to the recipient, through his faith in the sacrifice on the Cross, life spiritual, the abidance of himself in Christ and of Christ in him. Our Saviour, interpreting His own words [or explaining His precept of eating His flesh and drinking His blood], saith, "My words are Spirit and Life."... Dr. Routh told his friend that this statement of his belief was the one on which his mind at last rested. His earthly span was brought to a close at half-past seven on the evening of Friday, Dec. 22, 1854. For several days he had been fully conscious that his end was approaching: and on the previous Sunday, though ill and weak, had left orders that the Provost of Oriel (Dr. Hawkins) should be admitted if he called; explaining that he had done so, 'Because I thought perhaps I might never see you again.' On the Tuesday he revived, spoke with animation and cheerfulness, sometimes with more than his usual felicity of expression. Richard Heber' (he said), 'collected more books than any other person; he had four libraries, one at his own place, Hodnet, another at Paris, another at Brussels, another at Amsterdam. His library at Hodnet sold for 53,000l.; and his Paris library was very good. I have the catalogue, sir, in my room. "Mr. Heber," said Porson to him, with his usual caustic humour, "you have collected a great many books: pray when do you mean to begin to read them?" But the present Dean of Christ Church, sir, a great authority, told me that he never asked Mr. Heber about a book without finding him well acquainted with it.' Thus, even in respect of a trifling matter, the speaker's nature became apparent. Dr. Hawkins (from whom we are quoting) remarks on what goes before : 'Though Though he enjoyed a joke, he was supremely anxious that whatever he said should be true. The very accuracy and retentiveness of his memory had probably been assisted by this constant anxiety for truth. And in his later years, when it was not quite so ready and alert as formerly, it was curious to observe the working of his mind, intent to gather up again any fading recollections, and not permitting you to assist him, but recalling his thoughts, and regaining any lost clue himself. For some time past,' proceeds Dr. Hawkins, he had rather lain on his chair than sat upon it, and on this occasion, in order to support himself, he grasped one arm of the chair with his right hand; with his left, stretched over the other arm, touching or clasping mine. He said emphatically that he was "ready." On my observing that a very long life had been assigned him with very little illness and many sources of happiness,-"Yes," he said, he was deeply grateful. "Sir, I believe everything is ordered for the best. Do not you believe that, sir?"" ཟླ Later in the day, Dr. Cotton, Provost of Worcester, visited him: You are come, sir,' said the President, to one that is going.' He conversed cheerfully with Dr. Acland next morning (Wednesday); regretted that the new Museum was to be placed in the parks; and remarked, We are said to have the air in the parks from the Highlands of Scotland. I do not know whether this is correct, sir; I think the hills in Westmoreland must intervene; but I have not inquired into the fact.' To his physician: 'I will do what you desire, sir; take anything you please; but I know that it is useless. I shall go to-morrow. He went to his bed reluctantly on that same night (Wednesday, 20th) for the last time. 11 He used to sleep in the Founder's chamber, King Charles's room,' as he himself called it,-an ancient apartment over the College gateway, in which no less than seven royal personages have been entertained. On Friday he was clearly sinking; but at 2.30 P.M. he spoke a little, and was quite sensible. He expressed a wish to see Dr. Ogilvie, who, as he knew, had his unsigned will in his keeping, to-morrow ;' a to-morrow he was destined never to see. It was plain to Dr. Jackson, who attended him, that the time for transacting business of any kind was past. 'The President' (he wrote to Dr. Bliss) is as ill as he can be to be alive.'. In the evening, when Esther Druce, his faithful old servant, was standing at the foot of his bed,- Now, Esther, I seem better.' He crossed his hands and closed his eyes. She heard him repeat the Lord's Prayer softly to himself. Presently she proposed to give him some port wine, as the doctor had recommended. He drank it; feebly took her hand, thanked her for all her attention to him, and and remarked that he had been a great deal of trouble;' adding that he had made some provision for her. His leg occasioned him pain. "Let me make you a little more comfortable,' said the poor woman, intending to change the dressing. Don't trouble yourself,' he replied. Those were the last words he spoke. Folding his arms across his breast, he became silent. It was his Nunc dimittis. He heaved two short sighs and all 'I have just seen him,' wrote Dr. Jackson. He lay perfectly placid, with his arms crossed just one over the other, as if asleep. May my end be like his, at a much less advanced age!' was over. It has been decided' (wrote his nephew to Dr. Bliss on the 24th), in consequence of the strong desire expressed on the subject by members of the College, to bury my dear uncle within the walls. We have had much difficulty in coming to this decision; for, as you may be aware, he gave precise directions for his burial at Theale. We have done so only on the ground that in matters relating to himself (the taking his portrait, for instance) he has uniformly given way to the wishes of the Society he presided over; and it is reasonable to suppose that if any representation of the feeling of the College in this respect could have been made to him during his life, he would have conceded the point.' In the beautiful chapel of the Society over which he presided for sixty-three years, Dr. Routh was accordingly buried on the Friday after his decease; being followed to the grave by a vast concourse of persons, including the principal members of the University, the fellows and demies of his own college, and a troop of friends. The funeral cortége filled two sides of the cloisters. 'It was the most touching and impressive scene, I think, that I ever witnessed,' wrote one of the fellows a few days after. But the weather was intensely cold,-the wind blowing strong and bitter from the north-east, as Bodley's librarian remarked in a letter to a friend. Not a note of the organ was heard; the whole body of the choir chanting the Psalms without music. The open grave was immediately in front of the altar; and on the coffin was recorded the rare circumstance that its occupant was in his hundredth year. 'He sleeps before the altar, where the shade He loved will guard his slumbers night and day; For such a life! His twelve long sunny hours Bright to the edge of darkness: then the calm ART. |