Jerome was writing De viris illustribus in c. 393, and his verdict on Donatus of Carthage conceded that he had indeed ‘deceived nearly the whole of Africa’, an aim echoed by Augustine in his satirical anti-Donatist poem composed the same year. In fact, the year 393 had not been a good one for the Donatists. The high-handed acts of the new bishop of Carthage, Primian (391–412+), had provoked a schism among moderate and traditional members of the Church in proconsular Africa and Zeugitana (modern Tunisia). About one hundred bishops from these provinces had rallied to the cause of Maximian, a deacon in the Church at Carthage who was also a descendant of Donatus himself. In the meantime, the Catholic Church, condemned to minority status since the reign of Julian (361–3), had begun to reassert itself through Aurelius, its new bishop of Carthage (392–430). In 393 it held an important council at Hippo where Augustine, even though only a presbyter, had been the preacher.

The First Crusade has been described as a ‘church in procession’ and a ‘military monastery on the move’. The progress of the first crusading armies to the Holy Land was indeed accompanied by regular liturgical practices, acts of devotion and intercessory rites. Before each battle and during sieges the crusaders fasted, prayed, celebrated mass and confessed their sins. They went in processions and sang psalms. This wealth of liturgical practices reported by contemporary commentators provided the rhythm to the crusaders' pilgrimage to Jerusalem and marked the sacred character of their undertaking. At the same time, the liturgy was a rallying point for the crusaders' identity: it represented and reinforced the special relationship between the milites Christi and their God, and gave expression to the spirituality and the ethos of the holy warrior. The crusaders' earnest participation in the liturgy of pilgrimage and holy war no doubt contributed to the image, already observed by contemporaries, of the crusade as a vehicle of piety and a means of salvation parallel to the vocation of the monastic life, which was traditionally considered the highest form of religious devotion.

In his biography of Archbishop William Courtenay published in 1966, Joseph Dahmus wrote that ‘until documented evidence to the contrary is provided, one may assume that the connection between Wycliffitism at Oxford and Lollardy was hardly more than accidental. Although the work of Anne Hudson and Michael Wilks has since shown that the link was anything but accidental, Dahmus’ scepticism is I am grateful to the participants in the three seminars at which this paper was read for their comments, and especially to Dr J. R. L. Highfield and Dr Paul Brand, both of whom offered helpful suggestions for its improvement. All remaining errors are my own. I thank also the Warden and fellows of Merton College, for allowing me access to their splendid archive, and Mr John Burgass, former assistant librarian, his successor Mrs Fiona Wilkes, Dr S. J. Gunn, and Dr Sarah Bendall for their assistance.

On 18 May 1843, the Established Church of Scotland was broken up by the Disruption, as most of the Evangelical party walked out of the annual meeting of the General Assembly. They left in protest over lay patronage in appointments to church livings and what they perceived as the State's refusal to recognise the Church's spiritual independence. In all over a third of the ministers and perhaps half the lay membership left the establishment. On the day of the Disruption, the prominent Edinburgh Dissenting minister, Dr John Brown of the United Secession Church, Broughton Place, felt called to play a part in the event. Early that afternoon, his biographer related, he was in a peculiarly solemn mood and ‘could not resist the impulse’ to enter the still empty Tanfield Hall where the outgoing ministers were to gather. He took a seat on the platform and waited. In time, the procession of outgoing ministers and elders arrived followed by the immense crowd. As they streamed into the hall, Brown stepped forward to greet them. He was, however, immediately enveloped in the crowd and his gesture passed unnoticed. It was a telling moment. During the past decade, Brown had been one of the most stern and unbending of the Scottish Voluntaries, those who believed that church membership must be entirely voluntary and who opposed in principle the connection of Church and State. A leading campaigner for the disestablishment of the Church of Scotland, Brown had refused to pay the Edinburgh church rate, or Annuity Tax, in highly publicised case of civil disobedience.