excitements and hopes of the Russian revolution in Finland, in Poland, in the Russian cities, in the university towns.  Life had become intensified by the consciousness of the suffering and starvation of millions of their fellow subjects.  They had been living with a sense of discipline and of preparation for a coming struggle which, although grave in import, was vivid and adventurous.  Their minds had been seized by the first crude forms of social theory and they had cherished a vague belief that they were the direct instruments of a final and ideal social reconstruction.  When they come to America they sadly miss this sense of importance and participation in a great and glorious conflict against a recognized enemy.  Life suddenly grows stale and unprofitable; the very spirit of tolerance which characterizes American cities is that which strikes most unbearably upon their ardent spirits.  They look upon the indifference all about them with an amazement which rapidly changes to irritation.  Some of them in a short time lose their ardor, others with incredible rapidity make the adaptation between American conditions and their store of enthusiasm, but hundreds of them remain restless and ill at ease.  Their only consolation, almost their only real companionship, is when they meet in small groups for discussion or in larger groups to welcome a well known revolutionist who brings them direct news from the conflict, or when they arrange for a demonstration in memory of “The Red Sunday” or the death of Gershuni.  Such demonstrations, however, are held in honor of men whose sense of justice was obliged to seek an expression quite outside the regular channels of established government.  Knowing that Russia has forced thousands of her subjects into this position, one would imagine that patriotic teachers in America would be most desirous to turn into governmental channels all that insatiable desire for juster relations in industrial and political affairs.  A distinct and well directed campaign is necessary if this gallant enthusiasm is ever to be made part of that old and still incomplete effort to embody in law—­“the law that abides and falters not, ages long”—­the highest aspirations for justice.

Unfortunately, we do little or nothing with this splendid store of youthful ardor and creative enthusiasm.  Through its very isolation it tends to intensify and turn in upon itself, and no direct effort is made to moralize it, to discipline it, to make it operative upon the life of the city.  And yet it is, perhaps, what American cities need above all else, for it is but too true that Democracy—­“a people ruling”—­the very name of which the Greeks considered so beautiful, no longer stirs the blood of the American youth, and that the real enthusiasm for self-government must be found among the groups of young immigrants who bring over with every ship a new cargo of democratic aspirations.  That many of these young men look for a consummation of these aspirations to a social order of the future in which