Spain presents a very interesting problem to the foreign observer, and especially to the English observer. The problem lies in the discovery of what factors have produced a result apparently at issue with itself; a result containing an apparent contradiction. The reason this problem is of special interest to Englishmen, is that many of the factors at work are those which have applied to England in the past or are beginning now to apply to her.

Let us sum up the main characteristics of the position :

(1) Spain was the product of an amalgamation between several distinct provinces, one of which, Catalonia, is still more or less hostile to the rest. Spain so amalgamated conquered, colonised and completely transformed in her own image a large tract of the earth’s surface, to wit, all South and Central America with the exception of the Amazon Basin, and spread her language and institutions over the earth.

(2) Spain, while so acting, became the undisputed mistress of the seas and planted her influence by sea throughout the world; Spanish architecture, language and even cooking are to be found in the depths of the Pacific and on the islands of the Atlantic, as well as upon the mainland of South America.

(3) At the same time the Spaniards were so powerful by land that they controlled a great part of the Mediterranean countries, furnished the best infantry for the German dominions (at one time united with their throne), fought magnificently with a handful of men a losing battle, half a lifetime long, in Holland, and were in general by far the first military power of their time.

From August 4th to August 9th, the annual meeting of the Summer School of Catholic Studies at Cambridge took place. Each year this Cambridge Summer School has devoted itself to a particular subject, which it has set itself to study and explain. Previously the Religion of the Scriptures, the Eucharist, the Papacy, had been so treated; this year, in accordance with the desires of the Pope, expressed in his encyclical Studiorum Ducem, the principle matter discussed was St. Thomas Aquinas, his Life, Times and Teaching.

The solemn opening of the School was made in the impressive Church of Our Lady and the English Martyrs with a sermon by Father Martindale, S.J. In an interesting way Fr. Martindale examined the break-up of thought and life that had taken place since the sixteenth century, its dissociation of part with part, in matters intellectual and spiritual, in culture, and, especially, in the principles of action. Saved as Catholics were from spiritual and doctrinal separation, they yet remained caught in the cleavage of politics and culture, and severed therefore in large measure through Protestant and over-nationalised party narrowness from proper contact with each other. To bridge this gulf betwixt nations, sciences, and religious groups was the ideal and hope of many; but it could be effected only by a common possession of principles, and these in turn must depend upon a common philosophical basis and a common faith. Both philosophy and faith sprang from the teaching of Christ. The statement of this teaching by the Early Church Fathers held Christendom together for two hundred years, by St. Augustine for another eight hundred, by St. Thomas from the thirteenth century till the Reformation.

The critics of the economic system of modern industrial and commercial life are legion. Since the famous attack of Marx, this so-called ‘Capitalistic System’ has been continually assailed and defended with an ever-increasing power of learning and ‘judgment born of experience.’ From every angle and vantage-point Capitalism has been viewed from without: while from within its many secrets of good and evil have been dragged forth into the light of day either for admiration or for shame. Of the many far-reaching truths concerning its nature which we have thus slowly discovered, perhaps the chief is the most alarming—its incalculable strength. So deep and strong are its roots—avarice and coveteousness, so enormous is its growth—its jungled strength covers the earth, so dominant is its influence—no civilised people can escape it, that it can and does defy the legion of critics to check its growth or lessen its influence. As some monstrous, hydra-headed giant of the fairy story, Capitalism smiles horrifically upon its millions of victims, who see nothing more in the smile than the hope of their present safety. And up till now, there is no sign of a ‘Jack-the-Giant-Killer’ in the legion of critics.

To add to the volume of criticism of this economic system seems gratuitous. Yet there does appear to the writer some good reason for hoping that its gigantic monstrosity is not so strong as it looks, and indeed even to-day a weakness, latent but radical, in its system, is being slowly exposed.

Several hands have attempted versions of Adoro te; it would be impertinent to add another attempt without a word of prefatory justification. My object has been to supply what doubtless others also have desiderated, such an English rendering of these twenty-eight lines as will sing naturally to the plain chant melody in the Vatican edition.

St. Thomas’s hymns to some appear doggerels. And certainly they are severely stript of all adventitious ornament or poeticism. But there is one merit that cannot be denied to them by the most envious critic : an immense significance. They are so crowded with meaning that each may be called a little Summa of Eucharistic theology, with a variation from the festal didactics of Lauda Sion—appropriate to an Office—to the devout personal effusion of Adoro te. Eucharistic theology reduced within the strict dimensions of verse, and, more particularly, of ‘singing-verse.’ The verse form serves both for economy of bulk in expression and for a mnemonic device. The virtue of good doggerels is that they are not easily forgotten, and I cannot believe that St. Thomas was not deliberately making a mnemonic compendium of the simplest statement of Catholic doctrine about Transubstantiation. Perhaps he was at the same time executing a lyrical impulse to give to this truth the most chastened and disciplined form of verbal beauty. Lyrics or doggerels, it beats me to decide which they are.

Anyhow, the peculiar quality of this hymn makes a peculiar problem for the translator—and all translators of Latin hymns travel a road that is milestoned with the skeletons of predecessors who have failed horribly—for two reasons.

The story of Anthony Tyrrell has been very fully dealt with by Father Morris in his Troubles of our Catholic Forefathers. The authority he followed was a contemporary unpublished MS. of the famous Father Persons, still preserved in the English College at Rome and bearing as its title, The Fall of Anthony Tyrrell. Persons gives his own version of the present confession and, though there is no material difference between the two, it is unfortunate that Father Morris did not go direct to Tyrrell’s own statement, especially considering the very controversial character of Father Persons’ writings, and that a contemporary text does exist in the Lansdowne MSS. of the British Museum.

A happy chance has brought into my possession what is apparently Tyrrell’s actual letter. It is here printed verbatim, in the original spelling and without any attempt to straighten its confused sentences.

It was found wrapped up with some other papers of the famous Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, favourite of Queen Elizabeth, and must either have been sent to him for transmission or intercepted by one of his agents. Unfortunately, the covering letter is gone, but a schedule shows the whole packet to have been sent to Leicester by one Walter Bagot. I have no certainty who this Walter was, but I have found in my MSS. a document of the same date (1587) describing Walter Bagot as son to Richard Bagot of Blithefield, and their identity is very probable.