Is there always some further nugget of interest to be brought to light through quarrying in the history of the Book of Common Prayer? Granted the numbers of books on our shelves, the minutiae of historical conflicts recorded, the range of interpretations revisited, and the passion traditionally generated, one would hesitate to answer the question with a simple ‘yes’. But with Bryan Spinks to do the quarrying, there is no hesitation in the ‘yes’.

Both the start-point and the end-point of the enquiry look unusual – was not 1559 simply a tiny adjustment of 1552? And was not 1906 simply an occasion for a report to be published, not for any actual termination (or ‘fall’) of the ‘incomparable liturgy’? Spinks answers the latter question by attributing to 1906 ‘the beginning of the end of the hegemony [of the said liturgy]’. So be it. What he then gives us to lead to that end is a five-chapter embroidering of five distinct eras of Prayer Book life, and his 1559 start-point not only enables a very strong spotlight to be focused on early years of Elizabeth’s reign, but also precludes any revisiting of Edward VI, as the 1552 Book re-emerges ready-made for Elizabeth, a given for the enquiries which follow. It is, however, a little disappointing not to have Spinks’ verdict on why each of the carefully listed minimal changes of 1559 was made; and he himself in passing raises, without noticing it, a less-than-usual question from the Ornaments Rubric. His quotation (p. 8) is ‘…the chancels shall remain as they have done in times past’, whereas the Parker Society volume containing the 1559 Book clearly puts a comma after ‘remain’ (as in the 1552 texts) – giving a particular sense that was later lost when the comma disappeared.

Spinks has a recurring interest in the sixteenth and seventeenth century uses in the royal chapels. These have been traditionally attributed to the actual devotional approach of Elizabeth in the sixteenth century, but perhaps also to Roman Catholic wives of monarchs in the seventeenth. They were not without critics in both centuries, and Spinks has an interesting quotation from Jewel (concerning a ‘little silver cross’ in the queen’s chapel) that ‘this thing will soon be drawn into a precedent’. But Spinks adds that the exotic ceremonial styles of Roman Catholic monarchs on the continent prompted some concern for pomp and formality when the sovereign went to her or his prayers. Some of this concern Charles I extended to Scotland, and thus strengthened a puritan opposition ready to pounce when he also exported to the Scots, entirely on his own authority, the 1637 Scottish Book of Common Prayer. The background to this is caught in great detail, in full vigour and with a round-up of emotional responses in Spinks’ chapter.

The discussion of the 1662 book reveals Spinks again displaying close scholarship effortlessly and very readably, and it is instructive to have the outline of Baxter’s liturgy with references to Richard Segger’s recent major work on it. Homer, however, nods in two places, first in saying (p. 81) that when Reynolds came to the Savoy Conference he was ‘later to be Bishop of Norwich’, when in fact he already was (and, similarly, Baxter had already declined the see of Hereford). Then at the foot of p. 85 Spinks writes of ‘the “sealed” book’ (in the singular), as though it were the ‘final version’ – but it was the Annexed Book which was the final version and the ‘sealed’ copies, under the terms of the Act, were to be exactly that, sealed as copies, and plural as obtained by all the cathedrals within four months of the Act coming into force. Homer is otherwise predictably magisterial, giving us detail of how the liturgy was actually used, how music was restored in cathedrals and (some) parishes, how church interiors saw the resumption of chancels and communion rails, and how a new school of architecture arose (led by Wren).

The 1662 chapter also includes the attempts at comprehension in 1689, the development of the Scottish liturgy in the eighteenth century, and the impact of the latter upon the newly independent Protestant Episcopal Church of the USA in 1786 and 1789. Wesley and the Countess of Huntingdon get noticed also. But all these remain as variants on 1662 itself; and the next and final chapter charts a somewhat different trend, not so much the revision of 1662 (though that possibility was always in the offing) but rather the catholicizing of 1662 itself, even while it remained the only legal use of the Church of England.

This final chapter brings Spinks to show his own hand, and he does so by his choice of verbs. The chapter title is ‘The Nineteenth Century: undermining the sure foundation’, and the cross-headings begin with the ‘excellent liturgy’ (characterizing the first three decades of the century), but shortly become ‘The Prayer Book Assailed: Tractarianism’. ‘Undermining’ and ‘assailing’ betray strong value-judgments – others, whether contemporary or since, might have chosen ‘fulfilling’ or ‘enriching’, and there is no shortage of such readings of history. But Spinks’ choice also reveals why he chose 1906 as his end-point – from the findings of the Royal Commission onwards, some changes became viewed as inevitable. Spinks adds a ‘Postscript’ which shows that in the event 1662 remained the sole legal use the Church of England for 60 years – it provided the only syllabus when I did my ordination exam in 1960, and still provided the only syllabus in my first two years of teaching liturgy to ordinands in 1964–66. And even post-1966 Spinks’ ‘Fall’ might be credibly, if unpoetically, replaced with ‘Obsolescence’.