of the measure by which it is proposed to campaigning unsuited to the country and provide for such a canal. The Methodist Church Two questions are before the Methodist Church at its present General Conference which are of interest to all who are concerned in the welfare and usefulness of that great branch of Christ's Church: the first, the modification or abolition of the itinerancy; the other, retention or abolition of the laws prohibiting to Methodists theater-going, card-playing, and dancing. The first question is not without difficulty. One of the great advantages of the Methodist Church has been that it has had neither vacant pulpits nor unemployed ministers. This has been due to the fact that until recently every two years there was a "change all round," and in theory, though not always in practice, the preacher was not selected by the church, but assigned to it. The term of office has been lengthened to five years, though the principle has been retained; it is now proposed, if not to abolish the principle altogether, so to modify it as to allow a minister who is doing acceptable and efficient work to remain permanently in his parish, though, as we understand the proposition, the question of his continuance will come up for consideration, as a matter of course, every year. Yet it is evident that, if some ministers may retain permanently their parishes, there will no longer be the variety of parishes to choose from for the ministers who have finished their work where they are and should move to a new field. Possibly the itinerant and the permanent pastorate can be united in the same system; but this is a problem which only actual experience can adequately demonstrate, and we do not wonder that a large number, though apparently a decreasing number, in the Church fear to try the experiment. Yet we are persuaded that the Methodist Church must find some way to solve this problem if it would serve the future as efficiently as it has served the past. The true test of every organization is its power to adapt its machinery to changed conditions. The first failures of the British in South Africa were largely due to a stolid insistence on methods of to the enemy. The unparalleled spread of Methodism in the lifetime of the Wesleys was almost as much due to the adaptation of special methods to the special needs of the times as to the adaptation of the universal message of the Gospel to the needs of all times. The simplicity of the New Testament Glad Tidings of a deliverance as universal as sin and suffering had been lost; it had been hedged about with many conditions by Romanism, denied by Calvinism, and ignored by the Erastianism of the Established Church. Then it was that Methodism arose; what was needed was the proclamation of the simple Gospel. "Whosoever will, let him take of the water of life freely." Rome had educated the people to believe that the gift must be purchased by penances; Calvinism, that it was reserved for the dead; Erastianism, that there was no gift, and that the Gospel was summed up in the words, "Be virtuous and you will be happy." At such a time and to people so educated this Gospel was indeed news; to people thus bred only a herald was needed; in such an age itinerancy was the fittest instrument for an awakened church. But this condition exists no longer. The Roman Church cannot if it would condition the free gift of the Gospel, and, we may add, would not if it could; its penances have ceased to be a prerequisite to grace, and have become a method of spiritual development. John Calvin's doctrine that the race lost its freedom of will in the fall has disappeared from modern Calvinism, or is exhibited only in heresy trials; though the creed contains it, and to deny it too vigorously is still heretical, no one preaches it. Erastianism no longer dominates the Anglican Church; no Methodist preacher in our time has proclaimed a more spiritual Gospel than has been proclaimed by Phillips Brooks and Canon Gore. The conditions of our population have changed as well as the character of our churches. There is no longer a wilderness in America accessible only to the preacher with his library in his saddlebags. In all our villages and in most of our towns there are more churches than the population requires. The appeals to emotionalism which aroused congregations to a frenzy of excitement and sometimes led to real and radical changes in life fall on indifferent ears, and, if too often repeated, are at last heard only in empty churches by a few late-lingering saints. The work of evangelization is as necessary as ever; but it is evangelization among a foreign population-Poles, Hungarians, Bohemians, Germans, Jews, Socialists, Anarchists, Disbelievers. To carry the Gospel to them requires a new method and in some measure a new message. For the text " Prepare to meet thy God" the evangelist must substitute "Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth." If he is to get a hearing for his Gospel, it must be a social Gospel. The Church must change, is changing, her apparatus and her method. She is becoming a great teaching organization. Her ministers are becoming and must become teachers of practical Christianity. To this change in social conditions and in spiritual needs the Methodist Church must adapt itself. It has already begun to do so. Its camp-meetings have been converted into Chautauqua Assemblies. Its theological seminaries are sending into its pulpits men qualified to be teachers as well as preachers. Its churches in the great cities have taken up institutional work. It must continue in this direction, and, by making possible permanency in the pastorate, make possible well-organized work, and continuity and system of instruction. Those who are advocating this change are conserving the spirit of ancient Methodism while seeking a radical modification in its methods. Those who are resisting this change are unconsciously endeavoring to fetter the spirit by refusing growth to the body. He is most truly loyal to John Wesley who studies, not to do what John Wesley did, but what John Wesley would do if he were living in our time. The other question is much simpler. Testament-perhaps at the time a necessary revival; Methodism was a revival of the New Testament-certainly at the time a necessary revival. The two cannot be united in one system. This is what Paul insists upon in the Epistle to the Galatians; this is what he means by his emphatic declaration that the child of the free woman and the child of the bond woman cannot live together in the same household. This is what he means by his affirmation in the Epistle to the Colossians that if we are dead with Christ to the world we are not to be subject to ordinances. This is what he means by his declarations in the Epistles to the Romans and the Corinthians that every soul shall give account of itself to God, and that to its own Master alone it shall stand or fall. Methodism will not be self-consistent until it abolishes from its constitution the relics of legalism which it unconsciously borrowed from the Puritan age in which it was born, and accompanies the proclamation of a free Gospel with an equally vigorous insister.ce on freedom in the Gospel. We do not here consider the question whether theater-going, card-playing, and dancing are ever right; we only insist that Methodism, to be consistent with itself, must leave each child of God to determine such questions for himself. The minister may counsel on these questions, but the Church cannot legislate upon them. It cannot stand on Calvary and use the thunder of Mount Sinai. In the interest of the Methodist Church, still more in the interest of Christian life in this country, we hope to see the Methodist Church both provide for a permanency of pastorate and abolish from its rules their Puritan prohibitions. The prohibitions of theater-going, card- The War in South Africa playing, and dancing never were congruous with the essential doctrine of Methodism. They were relics of an older Puritanism which Methodism was destined to revolutionize. There are two methods of reformation-one by law, the other by grace; one by prohibitions imposed by authority from without, the other by life freely given, freely received, and developed from within: the first is the method of the Old Testament, the second is that of the New. Puritanism was a revival of the Old The Outlook is able to announce definitely the immediate publication of a continuous series of articles on the South African War by its Special Commissioner, Mr. James Barnes. Although, as previously stated, one or more of Mr. Barnes's articles have been captured by the Boers, and perhaps one has gone to the bottom of the sea in the "Mexican," other articles have been received in The Outlook office, and still others are known to be on the way. Beginning with the next issue of The Outlook, the subjects will be as follows, and the history of the war will be continued thereafter by other special articles: I. Lord Roberts's March from Enslin to Jacobsdaal. II. To Kimberley via Magersfontein. IV. Paardesberg and Cronje's Surrender. V. On to Bloemfontein. VI. At Bloemfontein. Germany in Syria A great deal of interest is shown in Europe in the attempt of the United States to bring Turkey to a settlement. So long and so successful has been the history of Turkish evasion that diplomatic people in every country are skeptical of the success of any country in securing a definite settlement of anything with a body of politicians trained in the arts of postponement and evasion. Turkey would probably like to pay the one hundred thousand dollars down promptly and be done with the business, but she is afraid of establishing a precedent; such an act would mark a departure from the policy of decades, and might inaugurate a new era in the relationships of the country with the Great Powers. To postpone, evade, and escape decisions of every sort by playing one Great Power against another has been the Turkish policy ever since the Empire lost its vital ity. Filled with discontent, bankrupt, with unpaid troops and officers, and surrounded by great governments armed to the teeth, Turkey continues to exist because no Great Power is ready to see her absorbed by any other Great Power. The Turks have understood this, and have played a waiting game with marvelous adroitness. So far as present appearances are concerned, there is no evidence that they will cease to play this game for many a year to come; and he would be a very wise man who would venture to predict a date for the disappearance of Turkish power. There is far more vigor in the people than in the Government. The fighting capacity of the Turk was shown in the war with Greece; and if a real leader were to arise, a man with a genius for understanding the people, and with a genuine faith in Mohammedanism, or the ability to simulate such a faith, Turkey might be reorganized, and become once more, if not a great power, an efficient governmental force. Under present conditions she exists simply by sufferance, as a bankrupt exists because his creditors are not willing to push him to extremities. It is noted, however, in Europe, that there are many increasing evidences of German enterprise and influence in Constantinople. Turkish troops have been drilled and were largely directed by German officers during the war with Greece; the army is to day largely in the hands of Germans; the country is said to be full of German traders and speculators, and, as in many parts of South America, business is rapidly passing into German hands. On the surface it looks as if there were some connection between this sudden development of German activity and influence in Constantinople and the well-known passion of the Emperor for the extension of German power in Asia Minor. People have not forgotten the extraordinary attitude of the Emperor toward the Sultan after the Armenian massacres; and they are endeavoring to find the explanation for that attitude and for this sudden inţimacy between Germany and Turkey in the determination of the Emperor to carry his project for a greater Germany in Asia Minor into effect. Germany must find room for her surplus population. South America has offered a free and very attractive field for German energy during the past few years, and the growth of German influence is shown in many ways, especially in the fact that a great deal of the most important business enterprises in various parts of South America have come into German hands. When Secretary Root, in a speech last week, expressed his conviction that sooner or later the United States would have to abandon the Monroe Doctrine or fight for it, his remarks were at once interpreted as having some connection with Germany, and the comments of the German press seem to give credence to this interpretation. Whatever may be the hopes for the future of the German Government in South America, its policy in Asia Minor is very definite. German colonists have already accomplished great things in Syria, where German villages have sprung up as if by magic, and seem to point the way to a greater Germany at the other end of the Mediterranean. In order to make this greater Germany possible, as the London "Spectator" points out, two thi gs are essential: the co-operation, or at least the passivity, of Turkey; and such concessions from the Turkish Government as will make possible the building of railways by German capital to connect German settlements. This is the line along which Germany is now moving. Russia is watching this development of German policy with the utmost attention; and it is one of the puzzles of Europe to determine whether there is an understanding between Germany and Russia, or whether Germany is following a line of her own. Russian ambitions on the Bosphorus have not been modified, and will not be modified: it is possible and probable that Germany is intimate with Turkey only for the purpose of securing what she wants in Asia Minor, and that she will not risk a conflict with Russia as payment for concessions and privileges of various kinds from Turkey. She probably means to keep on good terms with Turkey, to push her own schemes as rapidly as possible, and, in the event of a crisis, to stand aside and let Russia have her way; for Germany would have very little to gain by a fight with Russia over the integrity of the Ottoman Empire. A century of wonderful invention has tended to make those who have lived through a part of it somewhat indifferent to mechanical processes. We accept the finished result, bless the powers that be, and ask no questions. The phonograph, x-rays, and liquid air exact a passing interest, and then we move on and forget them and wait for the next. So with that perennial wonder, the daily paper. We seize it eagerly enough in the morning, scan its manifold pages if it is a weekday, or "go through" them if it is a Sunday number-nobody pretends to read a Sunday paper in these days of the hundred-page first-day edition-and wonder if the end is ever coming to the multipli We cation of printed leaves; and then go about our business. We are all of us familiar with the old-fashioned printingoffice, with its cases and stands and forms of type-we saw that when we were children. But few of us have visited the newspaper-making plant of to-day, or know of the most recent changes in Gutenberg's art. Will the reader take a stroll with the Spectator through an exhibition, now open in this city, which will show us some of these neglected things? This Printing Exposition is said to be the first one ever held in this country; and it is well that there should be such an exhibition in the chief city of a world that Gutenberg knew not, but whose destiny has been guided so largely through the influence of his invention. Five hundred years ago the ingenious German began his career, and it took five hundred years to make a really radical improvement on his movable types. That improvement we see here in this complicated machine with a typewriter keyboard, upon which a girl plays with facile fingers, bringing together in a line, not type, but matrices. From these matrices, when a line is completed, a solid bar or slug of type-metal is cast. This machine the linotype-which makes the type and sets it at a fraction of the cost of making and setting individual type-has made possible the great Sunday papers, with their millions of "ems;" and it promises largely to displace the hand worker on book and newspaper composition. Indeed, it has done so already to a great degree. Watching the deft fingers of the operator, a workman (not, apparently, a printer) standing by the Spectator says, "It's done away with an awful lot of labor: it's a wonder they have it here." That is the handicraftsman's point of view-that a machine that displaces labor must be regarded as an enemy; but it is not the view of the most intelligent tradeunionists. This Printing Show, strange to say, is conducted, not by master printers, but by their workmen, members of the Typographical Union, and for the benefit of their Union's benevolent fund. Many people think of trades-unions only in their militant aspect, as instruments of war; Commissioner Keller, of. New York's Charities Department, who makes the opening address this evening, knows of them as aiders of his work-they keep their members, he says, from needing his help. The union that is conducting this exhibition, familiarly known as "Big Six," has in the last seven years spent nearly $260,000 in helping its sick and indigent members. It has a farm in New Jersey we may go downstairs and see some of the stock raised on it--for superannuated and out-of-work members; it contributes largely to the support of a Home for consumptive printers; and shows its interest in its members' welfare in many other ways besides inviting them to go on strike. The fact that it is the workers in the trade who are in this way commemorating Gutenberg's birth is significant both of the public spirit of the craft and of their busi ness capacity and initiative. A few yards from the linotype is seen one of the latest developments in the other end of the printing-office-a press for printing the color work which we have come to associate with some of the dailies. Though these flaring headlines and "colored supplements" may be regarded with may be regarded with horror by the conservative, their mechanical production is delightful to watch. There is also the steam self-inking proofpress, and the folding-machine, and the wire stitcher, and the stereotyping outfit, and the curved-plate jobber, and many other appliances that help make the printed paper, book, and circular of to-day. Some of these appeal especially to the man with technical knowledge; all of them help to show one half of the world how the other half works. If Gutenberg could lift his eyes and look around a corner near his statue in the center of the exhibition, he would see the counterfeit presentment of another worthy, of perhaps even greater celebrity. There, in the little Chinese printing-office, is the portrait of Confucius, printed from a stone engraved twenty-four hundred years ago, and said to be still in existence. But Gutenberg would not be jealous. The Chinese did their printing two thousand years ago as they generally do it now— from engraved blocks and not from cast type. And they do their printing without the aid of even such cumbrous machinery as we may see over there in the space reserved for a typical printer-publisher of a generation that is passing, with his time-worn relics of early printing days— the press used by William Bradford, New York's first printer, the odd "pull-down " jobber (still usable, and from which we are privileged to take away a proof as a souvenir), and its near neighbor the Ramage press, that must have given arm-ache to scores of apprentices before it was used in printing Confederate currency in Virginia during the war. There is a chance to study human nature here as well as printing-to see how an occupation develops a human type, so to speak. The old-time compositor is here, with his thin, sharp face, his half-quizzical, good-naturedly cynical, humorously skeptical expression, his frankly negligent dress, his pliant fingers that seem made to caress stick and rule, his air of cheerful resignation as of one who always expected to find his occupation gone and is not altogether unhappy to witness the verification of his prediction. A kindly, likable old fellow he is, with his dry humor and his genial reminiscences of the old days at He had his faults-but then the" case." the work was hard and vexatious, and the nights were long-what wonder that he felt the need of refreshment? He looks somewhat askance at the new linotype operator who has taken his place. The linotype printer is young, he speaks in a new lingo (with his "batteries," and "squirts," and "hot slugs") that is unfamiliar to the old-timer, he dresses more smartly, and seems to have steadier hands. Machinery does somehow take the romance out of things, the quaintness out of men. But, then, in the printer's case at least, it enables a man to make better wages, it steadies him, and his home is probably happier; and are not these things better than mere picturesqueness? The Spectator thinks so; and yet he glances lingeringly at the unconsciously pathetic figure of the man who has become only a looker-on. |