Historical anniversaries, like birthdays, must come at the appropriate time in order to be properly appreciated. The quadricentennial of the death of Menno Simons, in 1961, coming as it did at a period of marked and indeed exuberant vitality of Left Wing studies, fulfilled happily enough, this requirement.1 For Menno this was especially important, since he has been, during the past four hundred years, a man with a “bad press”—criticized not only by all of his foes outside his tradition, but also by many of his friends within.2 An appraisal of his place in the Reformation of the sixteenth century appears necessary and—in light of the state of Left Wing studies— also possible, though this must not lead to an undue postulate of profundity or relevance.

To probe the reaction of American Roman Catholics to the emergence of Nazism three periodicals were studied for the years 1933 to 1937. America was a well-edited Jesuit weekly with a circulation approximating thirty thousand. It was well-informed, detailed in its coverage of contemporary events, and wielded wide influence among Catholics in its approach to current affairs. The Brooklyn Tablet, weekly diocesan publication for Brooklyn in New York, had a newspaper format and a circulation approaching fifty thousand. Commonweal was edited independently by Catholic laymen and was more influential than its circulation of about twenty thousand would indicate.

The writings of the so-called Apostolic Fathers (a term used by the Monophysite Severus of Antioch in the sixth century) present us not only with a fascinating theological literature but also with some difficult problems in regard to its nature. Thomas Elborowe translated Ignatius, Polycarp, and Barnabas and entitled his published work (London, 1668) “a prospect of the primitive Christianity, as it was left by Christ to his apostles, by the apostles to their disciples Saint Polycarp and Holy Ignatius, both contemporaries with and disciples to the Holy Evangelist and Apostle Saint John.” The neatness of this part of the prospect was somewhat marred by the inclusion of Barnabas. “His following epistle indeed,” Elborowe wrote, “may not prove so very acceptable to some, in regard of his strange explications of scripture, which are not after the modern and more refined mode. But it is to be noted that, when he wrote, Christianity was but in the cradle, and scarce advanced into her morning dress.” Nearly three hundred years later Mgr. G. Jouassard, writing in the Mélanges de science religieuse (1957), was facing problems not unlike those stated or implied by Elborowe. What is the value of the Apostolic Fathers? What kind of authority do they have? Are they any more valuable than such a document as the Epistle of the Apostles? They are hard to classify as literature and they come from a long period of time. Both “apostolic” and “fathers” are words which ascribe more importance to them than they really deserve.

Few subjects in recent history have lent themselves to such heated polemical writing and debate as that concerning the Spanish Church and its relationship to the abortive Spanish revolution of 1931–1939. Throughout this tragic era and especially during the Civil War, it was commonplace to find the Church labelled as reactionary, completely and unalterably opposed to progress, and out of touch with the political realities of the twentieth century.1 In the minds of many whose views were colored by the highly partisan reports of events in Spain during the nineteen thirties, the Church has been pictured as an integral member of the Unholy Triumvirate— Bishops, Landlords, and enerals—which has always conspired to impede Spanish progress. Recent historical scholarship has begun to dispel some of the notions about the right-wing groups,2 but there has been little research on the role of the clergy. Even more important, there has been little understanding of the Church's response to the radical revolutionary movements in Spain.

Much has been made of the persecutions and repressions of the Protestant nonconformists in the age of Charles II, but the equally important, if less dramatic, attempts at toleration and comprehension have been neglected. As reflections of the transitory nature of the period—as a bridge between the first half of the century and the glorious revolution—this interest, on the part of a large group of lay and ecclesiastical peers, as well as the king, in a broader, more tolerant church is of critical significance.

The following bibliographical sketch is designed to acquaint the student of American theological education with the present state of available sources on its history. It is the by-product of the researches pursued in connection with the writing of an article on American theological seminaries (Theologische Bibelanstätten) for the new edition of Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart. The article is a joint enterprise by professor George Huntston Williams of Harvard University and F. D. McCloy, and covers the period from the close of the eighteenth century to the present. There is no comprehensive study of the development of ministerial tranining with regard either to educational theory or institutional structure during the one hundred and seventy-eight years since the founding of the first seminaries by the Dutch Reformed and the Roman Catholic denominations in 1784. A very brief survey was given by William Adams Brown in “A Century of Theological Education and After,” Journal of Religion, VI, 4 (July, 1926), pp. 363–383, and, also, in his article, “Theological Education,” in A Cyclopedia of Education, edited by Paul Munrone (New York, 1931) V, pp. 582–606. Henry K. Rowe, professor at Andover-Newton Theological Seminary, Contributed a short supplement, dealing with the American scence, to the major article on the history of theological education by Ferdinand Cohrs in the New Schaff-Herzog Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge (reprint, Grand Rapids, 1950) XI, p. 335a. Three articles on Jewish, Protestant, and Roman Catholic theological training apperared in Highers Education, IX, 18 (May 15, 1963), pp. 202–216, by Seymour Siegel, Oren H. Baker, and James E. O'Connell respectively.