It is almost a commonplace that the ideology and circumstances of the Carolingian empire made possible assertion by the Frankish episcopacy of an increasingly active role in the government of ninth-century Frankish Europe. Restoration of the ecclesiastical hierarchy begun in the mid-eighth century by Pepin the Short and completed under his son, the emperor Charles, resulted in the establishment of a class of able men whose common interests were closely bound up with preservation and extension of the imperial structure; in the reign of Charles' successors this group came to be involved more and more prominently in the workings of the empire, as events in the forty years following Charles' death necessitated rapid reinterpretation of that entity. In that process no member of the hierarchy played a more ubiquitous part than did Ebbo, archbishop of Reims from 816 until his deposition nineteen years later. Loyal to the principles of imperial rule while at the same time betrayer of the friendship and fealty owed his monarch, Ebbo was scholar, builder, missionary, high public official, rebel and outcast during a career inextricably bound up with the course and transmutations of the empire. In the range of his activities and influence almost a paradigm of those opportunities and tasks open to the Carolingian episcopate, his history is in no small measure that of the empire itself and of the church with which in the ninth century that empire was conceived to be coextensive, even identical. It is those two histories and their interrelations that form the subject of the present paper.

Our attempts to piece together the mosaic of ideas and events during the late medieval period have been enriched in recent years by the increased attention given to the study of sermons. Sentence commentaries, summae and tracts are the bedrock for the study of medieval theology, but we also wish to know what was being preached.

Normative theological systems may be influenced by philosophical considerations but must be based upon Scriptural authority. While different Christian denominations place varying degrees of emphasis upon the primacy of the Bible, or suggest contrasting methods of interpretation, Scripture remains the criterion of the theological formulations. If one alters normative thinking, one must necessarily change the existing relationship with Scripture through reinterpretation of at least key passages relevant to those modifications. At a result, it is often possible, through an examination of an approach to the Bible, to determine the limits of a system's orthodoxy or heterodoxy.

Since the time of its promulgation in 1648, the Cambridge Platform has been considered one of seventeenth-century New England's most important documents. Its clerical authors regarded it as a vital instrument for maintaining Christ's commandments, and their assessment was correct. The Platform was the recognized standard for Massachusetts Bay's religion until the time of the American Revolution. Its validity was affirmed not only at the time of its creation but also by the Reforming Synod of 1679. The origins of the Cambridge Platform and the forces that brought about the synod of 1646–1648, where it was written, were many and deeply complicated. Foremost among the internal disagreements causing serious difficulties in the colony during the second decade of settlement were the controversies over ecclesiastical polity, church membership and eligibility for baptism. The situation in England, closely related to the disruptions in the colony, also became a vital factor in the writing of the Cambridge Platform.

A dark picture of tyranny and prelatical persecution endured by Scottish Presbyterians under Charles II and James II was created by Robert Wodrow in his History of the Sufferings of the Church of Scotland published in 1721. This image became deeply embedded in the national consciousness much to the despair of apologists of rovalist and episcopalian causes. “That which we have from Wodrow”, Mark Napier complained bitterly, “is a caluminous tissue of monstrous fables. It has poisoned the History of Scotland to an extent that is now, perhaps, irremediable.” But those who wish to revise Wodrow's interpretation of the period cannot do so simply by dismissing his work as fabulous.

One of the more interesting features of American religious life in the years following the Civil War was the renascence of perfectionist or “holiness” teachings among evangelical Protestants. Declaring that the scriptural Baptism of the Holy Spirit brought entire sanctification, perfectionists held that all Christians should seek and expect a “second blessing”, beyond the conversion experience, which would bring complete and instantaneous purification from sin and perfect holiness toward God. Beyond the “new birth” of justification, there lay the “higher life” of sanctification. These doctrines were first promulgated in the United States by the evangelist Charles Finney in the 1830s. Finney drew upon the theology of John Wesley and the early Methodists whose doctrine of “perfect love” paralleled his own religious experience. In the antebellum decades a proliferation of perfectionist devotional literature and a wave of perfectionist-oriented revivals bore witness to the appeal of the doctrine. Although Methodists were in the vanguard, the movement was thoroughly interdenominational. In this period perfectionism also had strong social connotations, and many social reforms of the era drew freely upon perfectionist impulses.

The article that follows is a discussion of a document of some importance in American Catholic history, one that has not yet received consideration by historians. The Petition and Report of the National Catholic Welfare Council to Pius XI of April 25, 1922, is a protest by American bishops against a decree of suppression issued by the Consistorial Congregation of the Vatican, the effect of which would have been to destroy the newly organized Welfare Council.