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 beautifu
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