Of all the dissidents with which Saint Boniface, the “Apostle of the Germans” in the eighth century, had to deal, those whom the sources reveal the most clearly are Aldebert and Clement, the former representing an eccentricity much in the manner of the later and more famous Tanchelm, the latter representing the reactionary resistance of the lax clergy to moral reform. Though these heretics have often received mention,1 no one has seen fit to study them closely, doubtless owing to the mistaken prejudice that any instance of heresy in this early period must have been isolated and of little general significance. We may now see that they are in many ways representative of eighth century heresy as a whole.

Although England's official participation in the Council of Basel came to an end with the departure of the second English delegation from Basel in the summer of 1435, the history of England and the Council does not end with this event.1 There was no lack of English concern over the developments that followed: the Council's final break with Eugenius IV in 1436–37, its suspension and deposition of him, and election, in 1439, of the anti-pope, Felix V. Henry VI was anxious to intervene to restore peace and unity in the Church, while the fathers of Basel made unsuccessful bids for renewed English support. This article is devoted chiefly to an examination of English relations with the Council from 1435 until its dissolution in 1449; but the subject is also closely linked with the history of Anglo- papal relations during these years, for England remained staunchly loyal to Eugenius. Although no English delegation went to the general council which the pope summoned in 1437 to Ferrara, this council's fruitful work towards union with the Greek Church and other Christians was followed with approval in England.

More than eighty years ago the celebrated church historian Philip Schaff correctly observed that the Czech Brethren “surpass all churches in the number of their confessions of faith.”1 Undoubtedly he too, like any other student of the Unitas Fratrum, was astonished at the number of confessional statements which the Brethren wrote and published within the span of less than two hundred years. While discounting separate printings and translations into Latin, German, and Polish, one still has to take into consideration seventeen documents which must be classified as official apologies or confessions of faith. However, if anyone wished to include all such documents, the number would reach almost forty. This, admittedly, is a difficult task, as in several instances it is not easy to determine which ones of these were directly authorized by the spiritual leadership of the Unitas Fratrum, or at least met with its silent approval.2

In the 1539 edition of the Institutes and in each succeeding edition Calvin calls justification by faith “the main hinge on which religion turns” and the “sum of all piety.”2 Yet, invariably, in 1539 as well as in subsequent editions, justification is not treated until well into the Institutes,3 as if to belie the centrality which is expressly attached to it: justification appears to be at most one doctrine among others.4 Interpreters who have wanted to explain both Calvin's very high regard for justification by faith and the relatively minor place it is accorded in the various revisions of his magnum opus have generally maintained that it is the fact, the Erlebnis, of justification which is central for Calvin rather than the doctrine.5 The force of such argumentation is not to be denied, but there is reason to suspect that it may not encompass the whole truth. For in his 1540 Romans commentary Calvin has a comprehensive doctrine of justification which has largely been overlooked. This doctrine is a product of the same period during which Calvin published his first and, in a sense, his most significant revision of his Institutes.6 The relation between the 1539 nstitutes and the 1540 Romans commentary is very close. This is indicated, in part, by the fact that Calvin apparently prepared both works for publication at the same time.7 Whether the doctrine of justification delineated in the commentary is of formative significance for the 1539 Institutes, however, and therefore in some sense formative for all subsequent editions, is a question which cannot concern us here. We must be content to describe the doctrine in the commentary. This procedure should at least keep open the question of the doctrinal-systematic centrality of justification in the formation and final shape of Calvin's thought (the religious centrality of justification is not in doubt).8

In 1772 John Wesley wrote a letter to Lloyd's Evening Post which was reprinted in a slightly revised form the following year under the title, Thoughts on the Present Scarcity of Provisions.1 Although intended by Wesley to be an essay exposing the evils of what Thorstein Veblen would later refer to as “conspicuous consumption,” it has been reprinted and cited during the present century primarily as a temperance tract.2 As intended or as adapted it makes for interesting reading but is far more fascinating as a testament of Wesley's economic theories. In terms of length and concern the pamphlet represents, as Wesley's biographer Francis J. McConnell observed “as nearly as anything a statement of his economic views.”3 Undoubtedly it does represent Wesley's most mature (he was in his sixty-ninth year when it was published) and deliberate attempt to express himself in the area of political economics. What does it reveal? Was he a profound theorist? Or did he follow slavishly the current philosophy? In short, was John Wesley a political economist?

It must appear somewhat strange that the ecumenical ideas which were developed by German Protestantism in the first half of the nineteenth century have never, to the best of my knowledge, been treated systematically and exhaustively, especially in view of the fact that these decades were unusually fruitful in producing various serious contributions to the discussion of the question of the unity and disunity of the Church.1 The brief remarks, for instance, in RouseNeill (eds.), A History of the Ecumenical Movement, 1517–1948, are quite inadequate.2 I have set myself the task in this paper merely to call attention to two of these nineteenth century German contributions to the ecumenical discussion, namely Schelling's and Schleiermacher's.

The intention of this paper is to lay down a fundamental scheme for the interpretation of the work of Albrecht Ritschl (1822–1889). It is not my purpose to present any sort of a critique of Ritschl's work, nor do I intend to present copious documentation for the assertions that the man made. Rather, the paper will present as cogently as possible a framework of thought which is a viable hermeneutical key for understanding and interpreting Ritschl.