In

same and the Mandarin is the official language everywhere. our own Chinese work it is spoken by more than three fifths of our members and adherents. The ideal language-qualification would, therefore, be met in China by a knowledge of the Mandarin. Third, that perfect acclimatization is essential is too plain to need amplification. While the foregoing are not exhaustive they form a sufficient basis for answering the question, urged now with greater interest than ever, What episcopal supervision is best adapted to our foreign missions?

The qualifications herein enumerated cannot be found outside the missionary ranks. Other things being equal, or approximately equal, there is no comparison in these respects between the missionaries and all others. Among them alone can be found those who know the habits, customs, laws, institutions, and mental and moral characteristics of the respective heathen fields; who are masters of the language, and able to enjoy all the advantages inhering therein; and who are thoroughly inured to the climate. In so far as these positions are well taken it follows, logically, first, that pari passu the best material for bishops for the mission fields is to be found among the missionaries thereof respectively: among those of Japan for Japan, of Korea for Korea, of China for China, and so on. It follows, secondly, that these should be missionary bishops; for to be made General Superintendents would, by the change of their jurisdictions thus necessitated, not only destroy the continuity of leadership imperatively necessary in the present formative period of the mission fields, but also the conspicuous qualifications set forth above, and which are particular and not general. It follows, thirdly, that for the best results no man should be made missionary bishop for more than one country. A further support of this position is the patent fact of national jealousy, and that the best representation of a field before the home churches is possible only by an undivided man.

Three collateral considerations will close this paper. First: The spirit of this article is favorable to a decided increase in the number of missionary bishops. If such are to receive the same salary as General Superintendents-and if the missionary bishops are to live in the United States of America they would need it

then a very momentous increase of expense would follow. But if as the corresponding bishops of other Churches in heathen lands, and as is contemplated of our own-our missionary bishops live with their brethren on their respective fields the much lower cost of living would make a smaller salary practically equal to the nominally larger home salaries. Indeed, a man of great wisdom and experience as a missionary contends that a missionary bishop should receive exactly the same salary that he would receive as a missionary, the only difference being in the necessarily increased allowance for traveling and office expenses.* This would certainly eliminate the secular element from any contest for the office; the honor itself making the office worthy all proper ambition. But this is wholly in the hands of the Missionary Society, to whom it safely can be left. Whatever it costs, the writer believes it would be cheap at the price. Second: How can the General Conference be sure of selecting the right missionaries for missionary bishops? Where there is, as in India and China, a Central Conference this might be permitted to express its judgment. To this the General Conference could add reliable information from all sources personally conversant with the situation. A

*The following are his exact words: "Among the reasons which favor a missionary episcopacy the question of salary needs consideration. The basis of salary for the bishops in the United States is fixed upon the cost of living in one of the large centers of population and upon the salaries paid to pastors of leading churches of our denomination. The salaries paid by churches to their pastors are determined by the financial ability of the membership, and are often an index of the large responsibility resting upon the recipient. On the mission field, however, the salary for all missionaries is based upon a liberal allowance to furnish the necessities of life, and is uniform. Men of expensive education receive no more or no less than those poorly equipped; those in places of great responsibility and heavy burdens are on the same footing as those who hold subsidiary places. Missionary salary is only support, and is uniform for all. This is the only principle upon which missionary societies can administer their funds and avoid heartbreaking discriminations. It would seem reasonable that the salary of a missionary bishop elected from among his fellow-workers should remain on the same basis as before his election. There can be no good reason assigned for a change of salary from a missionary basis to a home basis, for the missionary bishop is elected for the purpose of continuing his work on the same field and in the same surroundings as when he was an ordinary missionary. If a support was guaranteed him as a missionary he should expect no more as a missionary bishop; for several of his missionaries in places of eminent service receive only their support. Whatever allowance is needed for traveling expenses, secretarial work, or for any other purpose connected with his office, should be allowed to a missionary bishop, so that he should not be placed at any disadvantage, as compared with others, by being obliged to use money for his work which was intended for his support. This allowance for support to the missionary bishop should be paid by the Missionary Society, and not from the Episcopal Fund; as it is important that even in this matter there should be no distinction between a missionary bishop and a missionary worker. The same basis of support, paid from the same source, should be the rule for all on the field as missionary or as missionary bishop."

decision prayerfully based on these would always be reasonably safe. Third: To the incomparable advantages of the missionary episcopacy would be added those resulting from the quadrennial visitation of the General Superintendent, as the Discipline provides. In selecting the visitor let the decision turn solely on ability to advance the work. Then the General Superintendent's coming will be awaited on every field with increasing interest and desire. He will be the final referee in many serious differences of opinion as to men and measures, and to native pastor and missionary bishop alike he will be God's answer to earnest prayer, a mighty inspiration and blessing. Arrange in connection with his visitation a quadrennial Bishops' Conference, over which he shall preside, composed of the missionary bishops of this great field, in which there shall be a careful comparison of methods and views as to policy, administration, etc., and you have the writer's conception of some of the best attainable conditions for the efficient episcopal administration of our work in Eastern Asia.

AN APPROXIMATION IN TABULAR FORM.

ART. II. THE CRITICAL DOCTRINES OF WORDSWORTH AND COLERIDGE.

THE summer and autumn of 1797 was a rich seed-time for English literature. It was a happy conjunction, indeed, that set Wordsworth and Coleridge, each at the full throb of poetic inspiration, side by side in the midst of the lovely Quantock hills, by the shore of the sea, and ordained for them the companionship of Dorothy. One loves to picture to oneself these three dedicated spirits, replete with youth and strength and aglow with inspiration, as they indulged in high converse and noble dreams during that memorable year at Alfoxden, near Nether Stowey. Dorothy, no less a poet than her companions, was an attuning medium. Innocent as a child, delicately responsive to the most exquisite spiritual suggestions of nature, and untainted by that "something that infects the world," she "maintained" as well for Coleridge as for Wordsworth "a saving intercourse with his true self." We shall never cease to regret that she failed to record in her charming journal the conversations that took place between Coleridge and her brother. What intercourse must that have been! Here, if ever, were to be found "plain living and high thinking." Unlike as they were in temper and habits, the two poets found in each other's company a wholesome stimulus whereby the genius of each was quickened into unwonted activity. On all deep questions of thought and life they were of one mind, but their talk ran mostly on poetry and nature. Both were fresh from creative works of high order; the imagination of each was teeming with new ideas, to be shaped later into still more perfect forms of art; and they were alike in ardent and restless search for first principles upon which to ground their poetic practice.

What this early intimacy meant between the poets who were soon to prove themselves the greatest men of their generation, their contemporaries little guessed. It was hinted by their neighbors that they were conspirators; and, these hints finding their way to the government authorities, a spy was sent down into the Quantock hills to search out the mischief. True it was that they were

plotting against the established order, but the conspiracy was such as no flesh-and-blood spy could ever fathom. It was one, rather that the shade of an Addison or a Pope might more fitly have been invoked to ferret out and thwart; for these rebels were in arms against prescription and authority in the realms of poetry, and not against temporal kings and potentates. And indeed the time was ripe for such a revolt. Poetry had temporarily lost its divine and inspired quality. Men had forgotten their birthright, and were feeding upon husks. They had abdicated consciously the high places of passion, and had made themselves aliens from all that is truest in nature and most vital in life. It was as if the nation had become petrified in all but its reasoning faculties. In morals, in manners, in religion, in literature, the desirable thing was conformity, moderation, repression. The emotional nature was held in stern subjection to reason. Common sense fed fat while imagination languished at the outer gate. Above all things men sought accuracy, correctness, urbanity, and polish. Enthusiasm was unpardonable, in however noble or just a cause, while grace, suavity, elegant compliance were deemed adequate to cover a multitude of sins. The appeal was always from the present to the past; from individual taste to social custom; from warm confident impulse to the reasoned prescription of art. Poetry drew its ideals from classical rather than Gothic or romantic models, and, chiefly, from these models as colored and modified by the French temper and treatment. In the year 1800, in connection with the second edition of "Lyrical Ballads," Wordsworth published the now famous Preface in which he set forth-in narrow limits but emphatic manner-his poetic creed. His fundamental thesis is that poetry should give immediate pleasure; and he bases this statement upon the philosophical truth that "we have no sympathy but what is propagated by pleasure." But he, of all poets, invariably wrote with a purpose; that purpose being to teach, to inspire, to suggest moral ideals. Now, how shall we connect and justify two such apparently diverse statements? How is it possible for a poet to assert that pleasure is the legitimate end of poetry, and then straightway invite the reader into the rocky and strenuous paths of didactic and ethical endeavor?