of the reading, the interests, and the amusements of their children. Mr. Wister's counsel is not one of discouragement, but of stimulus. It ought to be taken to heart by the American undergraduate, and especially by the parents of the American undergraduate. Great scholars are not created, nor is thorough scholarship fostered, by present conditions.

life. This is the idea of the Church and the conception of missions which is taking possession of the imagination of American Christians and rekindling their enthusiasm. This great conception is coming back to them from the missionaries themselves, who everywhere are feeling the breath of a new day, and are awake to the opening of closed gates, the universal letting down of bars. In China and Japan especially the opportunities are on a level with those which

The change of attitude towards missions in American churches of the Protestant order is one of the most significant signs of the times. Not many years ago missions were regarded as a form of church activity, primary in the teaching of Christ, but secondary in the actual work of Christians. Missionary activity in churches, it is true, was regarded as a register of religious fervor, but there was no adequate conception of the place of the missionary idea or of the function of the Christian Church as a missionary church. The great commandment of Christ is being read to-day with clearer eyes and more trustful hearts, and men are beginning to perceive that the Christian Church is first and foremost a mission; that it was sent into the world not to preserve a body of truth against attack, to maintain intact certain forms of worship, to embody and work out certain orders of ecclesiastical organization. It was not organized as a place of rest, a haven of refuge, a fortress in the heart of an antagonistic world. All these things it All these things it is and will be, but it is none of these things primarily. It is primarily a moving army whose strength lies in the rapidity of its progress, whose safety is to be found in its audacity. It is not a guardian of a sacred fire upon an altar; it is a torch-bearer, carrying light and courage and truth in the very forefront of modern progress. In the exact degree in which it is a torch-bearer, holding aloft the flame of faith in fearless hands, is it a living church and not a company of men who accept a creed.

It is first and foremost a missionary church. Missionary activity is not one of its functions; it is the breath of its

set out to be a living army, moving aggressively through the world, and not a company of the Faithful comforting themselves with a truth which they did not feel compelled to share. Many of the leading missionaries are statesmen in their grasp of conditions, their conception of the relation of the Church to the world, their view of the function and range of missionary work, their tactful and far-seeing adaptation of Christianity to national needs. They are true interpreters of the spirit of Christ and of the fundamental idea of the Church which he founded.

It is from the mission field that the most powerful impulse toward Christian unity is likely to come. When men are engaged in a common work under the same conditions, whatever may be their differences of creed and worship, they get a true perspective of the relation of essentials and non-essentials. When they are facing a common foe, they sink their differences; when they serve a common cause with zeal and devotion, they are irresistibly drawn together. This is what has happened in China. At a conference of missionaries held some time ago in Shanghai, in which all Christians except Roman Catholics were represented, this significant declaration was adopted:

This Conference unanimously holds the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments as the supreme standard of faith and prac

tice, and holds firmly the primitive Apostolic Apostles' Creed and the Nicene Creed as faith. Further, while acknowledging the substantially expressing the fundamental doctrines of the Christian faith, the Conferof Church unity, and leaves confessional ence does not adopt any creed as the basis questions to the judgment of the Chinese Church for future consideration; yet, in view

of our knowledge of each other's doctrinal symbols, history, work, and character, we gladly recognize ourselves as one body, teaching one way of eternal life, and calling men into one holy fellowship, and as one in regard to the great body of doctrine of the Christian faith; one in our teaching as to the love of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost; in our testimony as to sin and salvation, and our homage to the divine and holy Redeemer of men; one in our call to the purity of the Christian life, and in our witness to the splendors of the Christian hope.

We frankly recognize that we differ as to methods of administration and Church government. But we unite in holding that these differences do not invalidate the assertion of our real unity in our common witness to the Gospel of the grace of God.

Equally important and significant was the action of the General Convention of the Episcopal Church, recently held in Richmond, where, under Bishop Doane's leadership, the House of Bishops and the House of Deputies affirmed the action of the Conference at Shanghai in this resolution:

Resolved, That the joint session of the two Houses of the General Convention recognizes, with gratitude to God and with cordial acknowledgment of its truly catholic spirit, the declaration by the Morrison Centenary Conference of the countless points of unity and accord among the Christian bodies of every name working in China and other foreign lands and drawn together by the power of their common efforts to banish and drive away darkness and error.

The same spirit is at work in Japan and in the Philippines. The preachers of the Church abroad are facing the greatest opportunities since the begin ning of the Christian era. They are drawing together by the irresistible impulsion of a great need and a fresh revelation of what the Church stands for; and the Church at home is beginning to see the vision which is dawning on the Church abroad. They are to be one Church, in spirit, aim, activity; bound together in loyalty to a Lord and Master who, in an alien and hostile world, declared the Fatherhood of God over the one great family of which all men are members.

The answer of the Church at home to the Church abroad was nobly made, not only at Richmond in the highest governing body of a great and conservative communion, but at Hartford by Bishop

Brewster, one of the leaders of that communion. Christians, he said, will never think or worship just alike; unity is not uniformity.

Such union is outward and mechanical. Unity is essential and vital. It is the unity in diversity of an organism where the several parts are developed each in a freedom which the more fully ministers to the rich life of the whole. It is a unity living and free, embracing distinctions, differences of administration, opinion, and mode of worship, but all made concordant because taken up into the large harmony of the whole in the key of a common faith and the common life of the one spirit in one body. The constructive genius of John Wesley would seem to have conceived of the inclusion of great organizations within the organism of the one body. This to me seems by no means inconceivable. If I hope for some such organic unity, that shall not be dissevered from the life of the past and yet shall take hold of and enfold the life of the future, in my mind is not the method of some one communion seeking to absorb the rest. I dream rather of the seeking, by all, of some common basis of faith and order; the foregoing by all, to that end, of things of human ordering and preference, not insisting, I mean, upon such things for others; a general return, for_that_common standing ground, to the old and well tried, the great, the simple things of God in Christ, that do not dissever, but unite men, as at the first, in one Lord, one faith, one baptism.

The Spectator

The Spectator, to his great regret, was unable to be present at the marriage of Prince Charles of Bourbon to Princess Louise of France, but he is at least equally pleased that, in place of his own. impressions, he is able to offer The Outlook's readers a first-hand account from the pen of an American whose part in the great event was, despite his wishes, just a trifle conspicuous. But first should be given a brief account of the interesting ceremonies extracted from a London paper:

Evesham, November 15.-At noon to-day Prince Charles of Bourbon, son of the Count and Countess of Caserta, and brother-in-law of the King of Spain, is to be married to Princess Louise of France, youngest daugh ter of the late Count of Paris, and sister of the Duke of Orleans, the Queen of Portugal, and the Duchess of Guise. . . . An enthusiastic crowd gathered outside the station this afternoon to meet the King and Queen of Spain. Only fifty people were admitted to the platform, and the station gates were

I am sitting down to write while it is fresh-knowing well that this letter can't sail for four days yet, this being Saturday night, but having too new and exciting a tale to tell to make it possible to wait. I had expected to cycle down to Windsor to see the King and Kaiser kiss each other on both cheeks, or shoot pheasants. I didn't go, after all. I read this inclosed article in the paper and could not resist. A king and queen, another queen, a duke or two, a prince and princess for bridal couple, ambassadors extraordinary and plenipotentiary (unofficially present, of course)-why, by all the rules of poker, such a full house of royalty outweighs two kings—and I went joyfully by train and bicycle.

Right under our noses, fifty miles from Oxford, to see personally the mediæval monarchy of Spain, and-clothed in gorgeous raiment-the past and possible future monarchy of France!

I saw it all, except of course the wedding and reception which were most of it, and under a beautifully clear English afternoon. I think I would have butted into those, too, if I had had time enough; but you see I only learned of it this morning. As it was, my luck stood by me, and I got in nobly at the finish.

But to start-I took the train to Evesham, carrying my bicycle, and rode out about three miles to Wood Norton. There I was blocked, at the foot of a long drive leading up to the beautiful Manor House of the Duc de Orléans. I hadn't counted on that, but supposed that I would have a box seat reserved for me at the ceremony, distant perhaps, but good-and had even donned respectable non-collegiate clothes for the occasion. Nobody but messenger-boys, however, got through that gateway-a magnificent arch, by the way, of stone and gilded scroll ironwork, decorated with arms and fleur-de-lis of France

quite monarchical. And the messengerboys were too small to impersonate, and, besides, wore round hats and had red bicycles-things which I couldn't provide at the moment.

After I had got tired of looking at the view I sensibly rode back to town and got a good lunch. Then, riding out again, I got a good position at the top of a steep hill where all the automobiles had to go slow, not only for the hill, but on account of a sharp curve as well.

First of all came the Grand Duke Vladimir, and a fine big bearded man he was. Evening dress he wore, and a huge fur overcoat thrown open, and many decorations that sparkled gloriously. Then right after him came the Princess of Battenberg-mother of the Queen of Spain-with the Italian Ambassador. This is no fashion plate, or I would tell you what she had on—but you will have read all that a week ago in the papers. He was magnificent in cream white uniform and gold braid, with a short cream-colored cloak lined with red.

Then it was nip and tuck-the automobiles coming by in a perfect stream. If I had had bombs, I could have found a market for them all. Finally came the Queen and then the King of Spain-the latter alone with his chauffeur in a great automobile. He sat on the front seat beside the driver, in blue and gold. It is hard to follow my thoughts as he came up the hill-thoughts of the King of Spain, of Aragon and Castile, of Philip the Second, of the Armada, and the Moors, and Torquemada, and the Empire of the West with its silver fleets. A thousand things were brought back strong to me while he came. A boy, a nice boy, waving his hand to the crowd. Not a bit like my imaginary King of Spain who existedwell, I don't know just why, but perhaps to beat back the Moors into Granada, and fight Charlemagne, and marry Mary Queen of Scots, and to pay ransom when captured. Like the old Dutch captain: "He thinks he will take to the sea again

For one more cruise with his buccaneers, To singe the beard of the King of Spain, And capture another Dean of Jaen And sell him in Algiers."

I don't know as there is any connection, but that's a bit my idea of the King

of Spain. There's a whole lot more than the man that is tied up with that title. Now Emperor William would, I think, be Germany to me and act it. But who can act King of Spain! This all sounds rather vague to you, I suppose, but then I am not trying to write an essay on him. A nice boy. I hope he will be very happy. He looks very much so. Good luck to him!

So then I thought the show was over, and even started to ride on to Stratfordon-Avon for dinner. But darkness dropped too fast and train connections were very uncertain, so back I went to Evesham and had tea, watching the crowd until my train time. The train left at 6:01, south-bound, to Oxford. I was stopped near the station by soldiers and told to "book my passage on the other side. I went across, and was told to go back again. This I did-you see what training I had gone through when I say I did so meekly, doing an thing to avoid a row. I was again refused, and, this time protesting, had my reward, and for the first time found leniency in the British Constitution that supports the petty rules against which I had buzzed and butted my poor American head so often in vain.

They let me cross once more, but this time, leaving my bicycle as security, by a little overhead bridge, reserved for the exclusive weekly passage of some first assistant underling official who cleans the station lamps, when he crosses on Thursday nights.

Without going into details as to the origin of these rights and privileges, I will say that I crossed to the north bound side, and found myself in a court guarded by bobbies and inclosed in masonry and solid walls of infantry. Seeing myself thus protected within the laws against which I had butted, and especially enjoying the sight of the policemen vigorously keeping the crowd from intruding on my private courtyard, I leisurely booked my passage and then looked around. Near me was a gorgeous carpet strewn with gilded fleur-de-lis. Without deigning to make inquiries, I haughtily advanced and placed myself among the other diplomats, ambassadors, plenipotentiaries, detectives, and such-and, with ten min

utes to spare before train time, took off my hat like the rest and waited.

They just came in time to avoid missing me. The Duc de Orléans, the Queen of Portugal, and finally the bride and groom, a Bourbon prince and the princess of France!

I stood it as best I could, thinking of that third-class ticket and a bicycle check in my pocket-and formed in line to let them pass, while the thousand soldiers saluted and the mob cheered from behind the gates.

Then I bolted for my train, which came tootling in.

But, will you believe it! their coming to the north-bound platform was all a bluff, too, and I looked back to see the whole crowd, six couples, with the Duc in the lead, following me over the bridge. Then I slowed down, knowing the train would wait, and descended the stairs two hundred feet in advance of royalty (I couldn't get behind them, you see, in a covered passage without being arrested), like the Master of the whole Ceremony; and all the porters and station-masters and things, members of whose caste I had been imploring but a few minutes before, taking off their hats, cheered, and formed a lane down which I walked on in advance of the bridal couple.

Then I tried to vanish, and a moment later came around again "incognito," thus escaping unnoticed into my thirdclass compartment-which, after all, happened to constitute one end of the car which carried the royal lot—and so rode in the royal carriage as far towards London as Oxford.

You will read nothing of this in the papers. You see, for political reasons, I could not disclose my identity. Neither King nor Kaiser nor German Ambassador nor their like could attend a French royal wedding without complicating matters with the French Republic; and I felt, even in my proudest moments, glad that Mr. Roosevelt would not be embarrassed by my presence there-seeing that I went incognito that way. closest chance

My

"To singe the beard of the King of Spain Or capture another Dean of Jaen, And sell him in Algiers."

CYRUS F. WICKER.

I

NAVY

IN the establishment of the American Government the effort was to create a régime under which the executive, legislative, and judicial departments of the Government should exercise their functions independently. As the theory has been applied in our Nation, under the political conditions which have developed, an extraordinary mingling of executive and legislative relative functions has resulted. A large share of the appointing power is to-day practically in the hands of the members of the Congress. On the other hand, it would be impossible to imagine a President of the requisite intelligence and character who would not seek by all legitimate means to impress upon the Congress the principles and the measures in which he believed. Such measures are, however, always introduced under the name of some Senator or Congressman. It rarely happens that a political measure bears the name of a President. The Monroe Doctrinę is almost the sole example of a political policy permanently accepted by the American people bearing a President's name.

The present President of the United States has not hesitated vigorously to urge far-reaching measures looking toward permanent policies and the correction of recognized abuses. These have had to do in the main with the pressing questions which belong to our time and our day-the Panama Canal, the trusts, forest preservation, and the like. Among others which he has consistently and steadily advocated is one which, if adopted, must be regarded as an expression of permanent policy. This is the doctrine that the true interests of this country will be conserved by the maintenance of a strong navy, and

that, furthermore, such a policy makes for the peace of the world. So steadily has this doctrine been advocated by President Roosevelt in its larger aspect that it might justly be called a Roosevelt doctrine.

This proposition of President Roosevelt has come in for serious criticism, and this not so much at the hands of professional politicians as from men who are interested in the wider questions of policy of our Nation and of our Government. Most of all has the measure been criticised by men who are sincere believers in the movement for international peace.

The present seems, on the whole, an opportune time to examine this thesis of President Roosevelt's, not in relation to isolated and passing events, but rather in its relation to the deeper underlying motives and forces which move nations. To-day we are at peace with all the world and in relations of good will with all nations. It is at such a time that a nation finds its best opportunity to consider a measure of world policy. Rarely are its great questions settled in the best way under the spur of excited public opinion.

It is impossible to judge such a doctrine as this in its present status apart from the personality of the remarkable man whose advocacy of it has given it prominence. The value of any man's advice to his country must be judged in large measure from the estimate of himself, and the weight which any citizen will give to President Roosevelt's plea for a strong navy will depend somewhat on how much he thinks the President's advice to be worth.

As one looks back on our Nation's history, he realizes that in the shaping