Wilfrid Ward was, notably, the authorized biographer of John Henry Cardinal Newman (London: Longmans, 1912) and, for ten grand years, the editor of the Dublin Review. He also played a significant role in the interrelationships of a number of participants in the Modernist Crisis in the Roman Catholic Church. Considerable attention has been given to this last area of activity, as a part of the resurgence of modernist studies in the late twentieth century. In the Modernist Crisis, Ward was a middling sort of figure: he was neither as bold a thinker as George Tyrrell nor so consistently supportive of episcopal authority as some would have liked. His 1908 essay in the Dublin responded to the papal encyclical Pascendi in terms that indicated clearly his submission to the exercise of authority in tandem with a technical reading of it that attempted to preserve the need for Catholic thinkers to address contemporary challenges to faith as well as to defend Newman's orthodoxy. It was a tiny space into which he tried to insert himself and his position—which he rightly thought was embraced by many other thinking Catholics—although Friedrich von Hügel thought the fit missing. However, Ward held tightly to his position, thoughtful and loyal, and thus managed to retain his recently won position as editor of the Dublin Review, a semi-official organ owned by the Archdiocese of Westminster. Only this achievement allowed for the decade-long editorship that is the focus of this recent book.

Scotti has done a fine job of situating the 1906–1916 tenure of Ward at the helm of the foremost Roman Catholic quarterly. Ward already had a reputation when he took over the task. Well-known for biographies of Newman, his father, W. G. Ward, and Cardinal Nicholas Wiseman as well as many essays, a few of them in the Dublin Review, Ward was acquainted with other men and women of letters in Edwardian England. He was a founder of the Synthetic Society, which cemented many of those relationships. These contacts, in conjunction with his wide range of intellectual interests, made him a good editor for any quarterly. His unshakable commitment to the Roman Catholic Church fitted him for the Dublin.

On his death, Scotti recounts, Ward was commemorated by Father Cuthbert, O.S. F. C., in the very pages of the Dublin Review as belonging “to that class of thinkers who may be described as the politicians of the world intellectual” (4). Scotti has borrowed that line and coined the term “intellectual politician” to describe Ward. It perfectly describes his efforts during the Modernist Crisis. Scotti puts it well: Ward's “life's work had been to reconcile the Church and the age. By his loyalty and obedience when authority had shown itself unresponsive to his goal, he was able to maintain a sufficient opening for others to continue his work” (294). By refusing to admit that Newman had been tarred by Pascendi and by saying so explicitly, Ward carved a space from which he hoped new articulations of Catholic identity might emerge. No matter that decades would pass before those new ideas could grow. Ward continues to represent the type of religious thinker whose ability to see many points of view allows for sympathy with those on the leading edge as well as those in the center or beyond. Ward may have hoped for certain kinds of change, but he also understood the limits of any one person's ideas. And, at the end of the day, he would do as many others have done: he remained with the community and its collective judgment.

As the editor of a quarterly—one to which he hoped the better sort of Englishman would want to subscribe—Ward understood his responsibility to cover a wide range of topics. Catholic thinkers and writers were included, to be sure. But the pages of the Dublin under Ward's editorship included articles on political issues (votes for women, tariff reform, the extension of the franchise, and the Catholic disabilities bill); society and current questions (eugenics, socialism, the poor laws); foreign affairs (many of the countries of Europe, especially political issues in Catholic countries such as France, Spain, Portugal, political parties in Germany, the thriving state of the Catholic Church in the United States, and events in various parts of the British Empire); Ireland (especially calls for Home Rule and the problem of a Catholic university in Ireland); and literature (many Catholic and non-Catholic writers were showcased). Many pages were devoted to the Great War, with articles devoted to explaining its causes and predicting its legacy.

The timing of Pasacendi meant that Ward would do well to stay away from serious theological topics. As an intellectual politician, he could indeed bring forward the point of view of Roman Catholics on many of these topics. He could tap a writer whom he knew would demonstrate the strengths of Catholic thinking. But he tended toward more historical and less theological thinking in issues post-1908.

Scotti presents the range of opinion included in the articles and situates the pieces within the larger debates in Edwardian England. The topics mentioned above constitute over two-thirds of the book, making this volume an engaging treatment of public issues facing Edwardian England. In that regard it has the feel of Ward's own stepping away from some theological topics. Thus, the focus on Ward's Dublin years may make this book of less interest to readers of this journal. However, to someone interested in the range of opinion present in Edwardian England, Scotti's treatment of Ward provides an excellent model of a Roman Catholic public intellectual in that era.