The correspondence of Augustine that Johannes Divjak recently discovered and then edited in CSEL lxxxviii has provided new grist for the scholarly mills of commentary and exegesis. One of these letters (Ep. 11*), sent to Augustine from Consentius, a learned Christian living on one of the Balearic Islands, has been hailed as an important source about ‘the Priscillianist cause’ and ‘secret Priscillianists’ in northern Spain during the early fifth century. In fact, the information in this letter is more teasingly inexplicit. Consentius had composed some anti-Priscillianist writings, but only on the basis of second- and third-hand sources. Fronto, a monk in northern Spain, then apparently used these writings in order to pose as a heretic and discover other heretics who included, he claimed, some local clerics; but once accused of heresy, his opponents insisted upon, and finally ‘proved’, their orthodox Catholicism. And although in his deposition about his heresy-hunt Fronto never once mentioned Priscillianism, Consentius nevertheless glossed the whole affair as one involving Priscillianism when he included a copy of Fronto's deposition in his letter to Augustine.

It has long been a favourite theme of ecclesiastical historians, particularly in Germany, that the separation of cathedral chapter from episcopal estates was an important step in the development of ecclesiastical administration, not least because it assisted cathedral chapters to become independent and powerful electoral colleges. It was shown by Gerhard Kallen in the 1920s and, more recently and in greater detail, by Rudolf Schieffer, how this separation of estates, which took a long time to be effected, began with grants made to the cathedral ‘for the use of the brothers’ or with grants for more specific purposes, usually of a liturgical nature. This paper looks at a closely related issue, the splitting up of the estates held by the chapter. This division was to some extent inherent from early on, because of the conditions attached to certain benefactions, but it increased throughout the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. The way the chapter's revenues were organised had important consequences for the cohesion of the chapter as a community and also for the way in which clerical preferment operated. This can be very clearly demonstrated by a comparative study of the ways in which German and English cathedrals managed their property in the twelfth century. Since the differences between the German and the English systems are so striking the two will be considered in turn, and a comparison will also be made of the control which German and English clerks had over their personal property, which deserves attention not least because the dividing line between personal and chapter property was sometimes a fine one.

It is perhaps the most fitting comment on a Christian scholar to note that, whereas his work has been of importance to the Church down the years, the details of his life have passed into obscurity. This remark is particularly appropriate in looking at the figure of Zacharius Ursinus, the main author of the Heidelberg Catechism and one of the founding fathers of the German reformed tradition. Most previous analysis has been focused on his growing sympathy with the teaching of Calvin in the period prior to his open adoption of the reformed cause following the death of Melanchthon. The effort to explain the background to the break-up of the Philippist party in the 1560s has yet deflected attention from a proper consideration of Ursinus' own views. Even the most recent account by Derk Visser, where some new insights have been provided on the basis of the published correspondence, is mostly concerned with this problem of his early development. Yet any serious attempt to place his writing in its historical context must concentrate on the situation in Heidelberg, which was the setting for the bulk of his work both as a reformer and pedagogue. In seeking to fill this gap, it is the purpose of the present paper to rediscover something of the man's character and the nature of his religious conviction, rather than to take up the now established debate about the relation of his theology to that of the other leading reformers. Such a study should furnish a useful basis for a more balanced assessment of his own contribution to the broader history of the Church.

They [the Puritans] drew in a sea of matter, by applying all things unto their own company, which are any where spoken concerning divine favours and benefits bestowed upon the old commonwealth of Israel: concluding that as Israel was delivered out of Egypt, so they spiritually out of the Egypt of this world's servile thraldom unto sin and superstition; as Israel was to root out the idolatrous nations, and to plant instead of them a people which feared God; so the same Lord's good will and pleasure was now, that these new Israelites should under the conduct of other Joshuas, Samsons and Gideons, perform a work no less miraculous in casting out violently the wicked from the earth, and establishing the kingdom of Christ with perfect liberty.

Religious revivals in early industrial England have received considerable attention from historians concerned with explaining their appearance in relation to social, economic, and political trends. R. B. Walker, for example, in a general assessment of the impact of external forces on Wesleyan Methodist growth after 1830, argued that political tension in the years 1832 to 1834 may have contributed to religious revival, and that the outbreak of cholera in 1832 certainly increased religious excitement. Chartism, on the other hand, probably competed with the chapels and made revival less likely, while general economic trends of boom and depression had no apparently conclusive impact. Some historians have noted these connections between religious revivals and secular stimuli and have gone on to ask what functions revivals might serve for those participating in them. Eric Hobsbawm in 1957 suggested that, in the half-century after 1790, intense political and religious excitement often coincided and that at such times ‘preachers, prophets, and sectarians might issue what the labourers would regard as calls to action rather than to resignation’. E. P. Thompson, by contrast, forwarded an ‘oscillation’ theory by which it was conceivable that religious revivalism reflected ‘the chiliasm of despair’ amongst working people and occurred ‘just at the point where “political” or temporal aspirations met with defeat’. More recently, Hobsbawm appeared to concur with this theory when he interpreted the revivalism which superseded Swing riots in several parts of the country in 1830 as ‘an escape from, rather than a mobilisation for social agitation’.