to overlook the fact that such formal relations may still have a universal element in them, so that, while meaningless apart from intelligence, they are still true for all intelligence. Fe was also led to look for the real in something quite unrelated, and hence able to exist on its own account. But as our objects as known are known only as related, and can be known only as such, this view leads at once to the conclusion that the real is unknowable. Reality and intelligence are opposed beyond any possibility of reconciliation. The reality as unrelated cannot be known or even affirmed; and if affirmed it can in no way be used as a basis of our cognitive system. To such contradiction we are sure to come when we exclude intelligence as a constitutive factor of the cosmos, and seek to found it upon an extra-mental reality. But possibly Locke was right only for the formal relations of things. Their metaphysical relations of causation and interaction may be supposed to exist among nonspatial and extra-mental realities. Here would be the last stand even of the most transfigured realism. The study of this question would take us far into the metaphysics of being and interaction; and it would at length appear that between the phenomena and the fundamental spiritual reality there is no place for any dependent impersonal existence. We should find all such being vanishing into law and process without any proper substantiality beyond continuity, uniformity, and universality. But into this field we forbear to enter. Nor is it necessary for our purpose. After we have reduced the world of apparent things with all its space-relations to phenomena, the chief speculative question remaining, even for realistic thought, concerns the cause of phenomena. This cause cannot be thought of as spatial or mechanical, but must be of an essentially spiritual or rational nature, in order to prevent our theory of knowledge from falling into contradiction with itself. For just so surely as the world of things in space is phenomenal, just so surely can it have its existence only in intelligence; and just so surely as it does not depend upon our intelligence, just so surely must we affirm a cosmic intelligence as its abiding seat and condition. The world exists only in and for a supreme mind; but how? We may conceive it to be merely a conception in that mind, just as any conception may exist in the imagination. There is then.no cosmic activity, no world process, but only a passive conception in the divine mind. This view, which is often presented as the teaching of idealism, is hopelessly poverty-stricken, and is little less than speculative collapse. Berkeley seems not to have had a very clear conception of the relation of his ideal world to the divine mind, and much that he said leads to this view; but idealism is by no means shut up to it. For the fundamental reality is not merely mind or understanding, it is also will or agent. We may say, then, that the world is not merely an idea; it is also an act. It exists not only as a conception in the divine understanding, but also as a form of activity in the divine will. It is this fact which constitutes its real existence in distinction from a purely conceptional one. In traditional thought this reality is secured by the world's being outside of God, external to God, etc.; but these phrases lose all intelligible meaning when space itself is seen to be only the form of the world. And even if space were real they could not be taken in earnest without making God a being with space limits. Let us say, then, that the world is essentially a going forth of divine causality under the forms of space and time, and in accordance with a rational plan. The outcome of this activity is the phenomenal world, which is neither outside nor inside of God in a spatial sense, but which exists in unpicturable dependence upon the divine will; as our thoughts are neither outside nor inside of the mind in a spatial sense, but depend upon the mind as their cause and subject. This world, being independent of us, has all the continuity, uniformity, and objectivity which an extramental system could have; and, as distinct from individual delusion, is real and universal. Indeed, it is hard to say what this view should be called. distinction from the idealism of sensationalism, it is realism. In distinction from the idealism which reduces the world to a set of similar but discontinuous presentations, it is realism. It is realistic, also, in affirming an objective cosmic system, independent of finite thinking. It is idealistic, on the other hand, in maintaining that this system is essentially phenomenal, and exists only in and for intelligence. In Borden P. Boune. ART. VI.-MRS. BISHOP SIMPSON. "Clara, Clara, Vere de Vere, If time lie heavy on your hands, "O! teach the orphan boy to read, And let the foolish yeoman go." RUSKIN says Shakespeare has only heroines; that all the wrong is brought about by man, and the salvation, if there is any, by woman. It is true that in the delineation of his characters he has brought his heroines into the greater prominence. Desdemona appeals to our sympathy, and arouses every instinct of justice and purity, while Juliet, Portia, and Lady Macbeth linger in our memory, standing out boldly upon the canvas with their companions in the shade. The ancient Roman philosophers, however, were not so liberal in the conception of the character of their women. Their teachings were calculated to make dependence a virtue and weakness a charm, and thus to paralyze all effort for service outside of their immediate home circle. Thus we find Cicero quoting with approbation the mournful words of Plato in which he regrets the degeneracy of the tines, "when the slaves do not obey their masters, and the wives aspire to be the equals of their husbands." But their pure and lofty ideas of the marriage relation, together with the customs of the times and public opinion, conspired in a measure to overthrow these teachings. The Roman matron was expected to manage the home, and share with the father the rule of the household. The husband well knew the qualities necessary for the performance of these duties, and clearness of intellect combined with firmness of character were considered of inestimable worth. In families of wealth the daughters were liberally educated. They received instruction from the same teachers, used the same books, read the same Greek and Latin poets as their brothers. True, the old prejudice existed against learned women, as the knowledge gained might open the doors of the sacred precincts of home to the activities of the outside world. Notwithstanding, their acquisitions are often spoken of with pleasure and pride. Plutarch, in speaking of Cornelia, wife of Pompey, says she was well read, understood geometry, could lead in a philosophical conversation, could play the lyre, and with this knowledge "she was able to guard against pedantry, which was the fault of so many of this class." Pliny tells us that his own wife read his books with great enthusiasın again and again, till she nearly knew them by heart; and his verses she set to music and sang them, accompanying her voice with a musical instrument. Clodia, after having read the best poets, and written verses herself, desiring to benefit others, invited young people to her own home to hear them read. So, all down the ages, in profane and sacred history we read the records of true womanhood struggling amid the darkness of superstition, oppression, and sin to be a helpmeet in lifting humanity to a higher plane of purity and peace. Dean Stanley, in his Lectures on the Jewish Church, says of Deborah: She is the magnificent impersonation of the spirit of the Jewish people, and of Jewish life. On the coins of the Roman Empire Judea is represented as a woman seated under a palm-tree, captive and weeping. It is the contrast of that figure which will best place before us the character and call of Deborah. It is the same Judean palm under whose shadow she sits, not with downcast eyes and folded hands and crushed hopes, but with all the fire of faith and energy, eager for the battle, confident of the victory. But it remained for Christianity to usher in a brighter era for woman. The Gospel that proclaimed "Peace on earth, goodwill to men," proclaimed also equal privilege and blessing, equal responsibility and obligation. "There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female for ye are a one in Christ Jesus." Ruskin himself writes: We are foolish, and without excuse foolish, in speaking of the "superiority" of one sex to the other, as if they could be compared to similar things. Each has what the other has not; each completes the other, and is completed by the other; they are in nothing alike, and the happiness and perfection of both depend on each asking and receiving from the other what the other only can give. As the Creator made them one in Eden, as together they sinned and were driven out of paradise, so together God intends they shall labor for the redemption of the world. Prominent among the philanthropic women of the present generation, and in the foremost ranks of the "elect ladies" of the Methodist Church, is the one whose name stands at the head of this sketch. Few have entered into a greater variety of plans and work for the alleviation of human suffering, and few have been more signally rewarded in witnessing the growth and establishment of the work of their hands. Mrs. Bishop Simpson was born in Pittsburg, Pa. Her father was a leading citizen, a member of the Methodist Church; her mother was very charitable, unusually gifted in conversation and prayer, and their house was always a home for the itinerant minister. Born of such parents, educated amid such influences, it is no wonder that she united with the Church in the days of her youth. At an early age she married Rev. Matthew Simpson, a young clergyman of the Methodist Episcopal Church, who was then a member of the Pittsburg Conference. With high and noble purposes, and hearts full of youthful enthusiasm, they went forth expecting success, but little dreaming of the remarkable future that lay before them. Her husband received but two appointments in the pastorate after his narriage, but during this time she entered joyfully and heartily into his work, sharing with him in the trials and triumphs incident to the Methodist itinerant's life in the earlier history of the Church. She was active in all the departments of woman's work in the Church, visiting the members, caring for the poor and the afflicted, and in seasons of revival talking to penitents, leading them to the altar, and kneeling with them in prayer. During her life in Greencastle, where her husband was for nine years President of Asbury University, Mrs. Simpson was active among the students, entertaining them frequently at receptions in her own home, and caring for the sick and lonely among them. Dr. Williams, since a noted physician of Cincinnati, said he owed his life to her unremitting care during a severe illness, she preparing his food and carrying it to him daily with her own hands. Being in a new country she had few of the comforts and conveniences of the later days, but she |