to a thanksgiving for the physical infirmity from which he had sought rescue, because in that physical infirmity the power of God's helpful companionship was made manifest: "Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.”

Our real prayers are cur supreme masterful desires. Not what we ask for are our prayers, but what we strive for. The masterful desire of the Preacher-King was for knowledge and pleasure and houses and vineyards and gardens and orchards and silver and gold and men singers and women singers and musical instruments of all sorts; and this lifelong prayer was granted. His life prayer was, Give me ; and at the end he hated all the labor which he had taken under the sun and counted his life a vanity made of vanities. The prayer of the Psalm singer of Israel was, Make me: "Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my thoughts: and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." And he reports what had been the answer to this prayer:

How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God!

How great is the sum of them!

If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand:

When I awake, I am still with thee.

The Bible justifies praying for things. To substantiate this assertion we need nothing more than the petition in the Lord's Prayer, "Give us this day our daily bread." Experience is called upon in religious books and addresses on prayer to prove that this request for things is often offered not in vain. But certainly it does not always bring the thing desired.

If the Master taught us that we may ask our heavenly Father for good gifts, he also taught us in more than one par

107

able that the kingdom of heaven is like an estate which the landlord puts in the charge of his servants while he goes into a far country, leaving the responsibilities of the estate upon them. God often throws us on our own resources. Even the prayer, Give us our daily bread, he answers by giving us, not a loaf, but a fruitful soil. I think it is Mrs. Stowe who has said that "No" is as much an answer as "Yes." God often answers our request with "No" and we mistakenly call our prayers 66 unanswered prayers." The Master in Gethsemane prayed, "Let this cup pass from me," and the answer was, "It cannot pass from thee;" and the Master accepted the answer, though it was brought to him by the traitor Judas.

But that the other prayer, the prayer "Make me what thou desirest me to be," is answered by wisdom, strength, and comfort bestowed is attested by a mass of testimony quite sufficient to establish the fact in any court of justice or for any expert in historical research. The question most discussed by skeptics is, Does God give us things in answer to prayer? The faith of the devout soul is that God is our great companion, with whom we may live in intimate fellowship and from whose unvoiced but not unexpressed friendship we derive a clearness of vision freed from our low and selfish desires, a strength which makes us wish to share with our Master the pains and perils of our great campaign, and that soldierly joy in self-sacrifice which is more than comfort. The Father does not promise that his children, if they cry unto him, shall not pass through cleansing waters and purging fires; what he promises is, "When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee; when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee."

Of intercessory prayer for others I may write at some future time. The Knoll, Cornwall-on-Hudson.

T

HE boys called themselves "the Push," and it seemed an appropriate name, as they wedged themselves through to the front of any crowd-" Dago," "Sheeny," "Mick," and " Nigger "-forced on in a jammed mass by pressure from behind.

The Push was made up of very individual entities, closely as these might stick together against a common enemy. Their nicknames indicated this individuality. "Happy Hooligan," "Chicken," "Stilts," "Buffalo," "Monkey," were recognizable at a glance. Other names were easily explained" Beeswax" for the son of a German cobbler, Duds" for the small boy from the, rag-shop, "Pickles" for the lad from the Heinz factory, "Hoochty Woocht," a satirical substitute for an unpronounceable Slavic name, and "Streaks" for the Irish messenger boy. They were a formidable group, whose deeds were often done in darkness. Their language was such as might be acquired by eavesdropping around saloons, umpiring teamsters' fights, and culling the pages of sport and crime in the yellow journals of fact and fiction. Many of their games were savage, especially the "Indian Gauntlet," in which one by one they would run between a double line of braves who took "cracks" at their defenseless faces and heads with caps, leather ball-gloves, book-straps, geographies, or other implements of torture ruled "fair" by the "Big Chief." When first we knew them they seemed friendly Indians, glad to help in community tasks, such as cleaning up and fencing in a vacant lot for gardening purposes. They knew where to get implements of peace as well as of war. Wheelbarrows, spades, brooms, baskets, and boards were easily available in a neighborhood used to doing its own work. Hammers, saws, putty, rope, nails, and wire seemed to drop like gentle rain from heaven. It was well to question the sources of these supplies before utilizing them, however. And eagerness to help sometimes rose to a frenzy which was impossible to control from the outside and must be directed by the "strong men" of the Push itself. A lack of tact

or justice in a neighbor resulted in broken windows, mud-clogged doors, derailed fences, tarred sidewalks. A popular neighbor, on the other hand, had but to step to the door to enlist from three to ten willing and efficient servants. On the whole, in the beginning, the Push was a just, nay, a generous body, though kindergarten methods were neither practiced nor understood by its members.

Streaks was their acknowledged leader. Although only twelve when first we knew him, he was streaking in the wrong direction. Wan, thin, and hoarse, he usually was without an overcoat and wore shoes split so that the cold slush oozed through. The sole support of a mother and two younger children, he ran errands as district messenger from four in the afternoon until twelve, one, and two o'clock at night, his sharp little greenish eyes missing none of the sights of the night life to which he ministered. His plausible speech foretold an easy following in his father's footsteps down the side-cuts of life to the bridewell. Having a vivid mind and opportunities for observation in extraordinary realms, Streaks was easily the center of interest in the few hours he could spend with his pals. His influence, powerful from the first, became supreme after he acquired the cigarette habit and a police court record.

The Push had arrived at the lead-pipestealing stage when Policeman O'Dowd was assigned to our beat. "Cheese the new cop!" cried they.

The "new cop" was especially detailed to a settlement playground just opened for the district. At once he enlisted the brains and brawn of every boy in our parts for the construction of additions to the meager original equipment of the place. Soon it became a common ambition to evoke the reluctant approval of the taciturn and mighty O'Dowd, whose standards of efficiency were high. There were swing-seats, "teeter-tauters," and turning bars to be planed and sand-papered; ropes to be fitted and fastened; benches to be built; short-jump and long-jump markers measured for, sunk, and braced; tally-boards to be propped. A day's work with O'Dowd

left the group "all in" as to physical strength, and mentally entirely absorbed with reminiscences of past humiliations and triumphs, or anticipation of future accomplishments and glory.

Next followed tests for the "strength grades." Right here it was that Streaks lost his grip on the popular imagination. With mortification he "fluked the stunts which even "third-class men" could " pull off." Competitors in running and jumping contests developed a lofty scorn for the "cigarette fiend." Vainly he hung around the outskirts of the playground sounding his shrill, once magic, finger-whistle. Sorrowfully he slunk off alone to reflect upon the fickleness of the crowd. To achieve the height, breadth, and chestiness of O'Dowd had become the paramount aim of his former admirers.

O'Dowd, biding the proper time, at length went in search of his fallen rival to ask his aid in hammock-making. Years before the big policeman had been a sailor, and now came his chance to utilize an old knack, to point the moral that strength was not all a feller" needs. Deftness, too, he demonstrated, was worth cultivating. Soon Streaks became an adept in weaving hammocks and basket-ball nets. The Push paused in its running, turning, climbing, and hand-springing to form an envious ring awaiting an opportunity to "get in on the new game." Gradu

109

ally each was pressed into service. There were rope ladders to be constructed, tennis nets and rackets to be mended, cradle-swings to be woven, May-pole twists to be fashioned, besides innumerable sailors' knots to be practiced and mastered.

All the while the imagination of the youths was stirred by old sailors' tales, full of the color and music and poetry of the sea, with its hidden depths and mystical treasures; and yarns of bravery and unselfish devotion held the circle wonder-struck, while new veins of interest and character were opened up in the minds of the maturing lads.

Streaks excelled all the rest in skill with string and rope. Moreover, his superior imagination, responding to the stimulus of O'Dowd's sea tales, wove romances that later formed the basis of games and corner vaudeville" stunts" through which first he regained leadership over his companions and later acquired a position in the "movies."

My last recollection of the boys was of a much washed and combed group, sitting by right of conquest in the front row of a settlement "movie" and serving as fans for Streaks, who was shown on the screen enacting a highly moral, part. As I studied their alert faces and sturdy forms that evening O'Dowd's influence was plainly discernible. I was ready to agree with him that at last the chances in life of the Push had become fully "fifty-fifty."

BEER NO CURE FOR ALCOHOLISM

We, the undersigned members of the Unitarian Temperance Society, ask space in your pages to enter a protest against articles now flooding the press written apparently to keep intact the business of the breweries by constantly affirming that prohibition is always a failure and beer well-nigh harmless. Typical of such literature is "Alcohol and Society," by John Koren, written originally for the "Atlantic Monthly."

We protest against the idea that beer is the cure for the drink evil. Distilled liquors were not used to any extent for beverage purposes in England until about the time of Henry VIII, and yet we all know that England was cursed with drunkenness from ale and wine long ere this. Not only does beer cause drunkenness, it also leads to immoderate drinking. Take, for example, the fact that in Germany the extreme accessibility of beer has so fostered the taste

for alcohol that Germany is no longer primarily a beer-drinking country, forty-nine per cent of her consumption being (according to Gabrielssohn's well-known figures) distilled liquors. Says Professor Gustav von Bunge, "Beer in Germany is worse than the whisky pest, because more apt to lead to immoderate drinking."

As for the non-hygienic, disease-making quality of beer, we refer the reader to Professor Bollinger's researches; he found, among other things, that in Munich, Germany, one out of every sixteen hospital patients died of beerdrinker's heart.

We note in some of these articles that beer below two and one-fourth per cent becomes harmless. But Mr. Mjven, from whom the "Brewers' Year Book" draws this conclusion, says that he found this solution apparently harmless as far as digestion went, but adds that the point where alcohol becomes altogether harmless is a purely

technical one and should in no way stay the hand of temperance workers. The amount is so small as to be practically negligible for ordinary beverage purposes.

Moreover, Georgia tried from 1908-16 a "near" or light beer experiment, but gave it up, because, according to Judge Broyles, of Atlanta, a light-beer law is unenforceable, as you cannot have a chemist with every barrel to see that the beer is light.

As for assertions giving the impression that the case against moderate drinking is not proved, we believe that Dr. Benedict, at the Carnegie Nutrition Laboratory, Boston, has proved beyond cavil that thirty to forty-five cubic centimeters of alcohol (about a wineglass of whisky) "slows down "neuro-muscular action. As for prohibition being nowhere successful, we refer our friends to the recent survey made by the State University at Kansas showing that in 1913-14 the per capita consumption of Kansas was eighty-six per cent less than that of the country at large.

Charles Stearns.
Christopher R. Eliot.
Courtenay Guild.
John J. Holmes.
Charles F. Dale.
Alice Higgins Lothrop.
Frederick Gill.
William H. Parker..
Elizabeth Tilton.

Lyman Rutledge.
Eugene Shippen.
Joseph Crooker.
Samuel Maxwell.
Elmer Forbes.
Thomas Elliot.
Abbot Peterson.
Mrs. Frank L. Young.
Edgar Weirs.

"DARKNESS MADE LIGHT"

Thursday evening, August 3, the Exchange and Training School for the Blind, 110 Livingston Street, Brooklyn, New York, was totally destroyed by fire. Many blind people of Brooklyn have received financial benefit from this agency. The darkness which has fallen upon the blind youth and the blind man has not obliterated the eagerness for self-support.

The blind workers must have another workshop. Making a living is not an easy thing for any young person. To any one who has found the way especially hard the fight of the sightless for self-support must make a strong appeal. Contributions may be sent to the Brooklyn Association for Improving the Condition of the Poor, 104 Livingston Street, under the auspices of which Association the workshop is maintained.

THAT LITTLE COUNTRY SCHOOL

***

As a summer resident of many years a few miles from the country school of which Miss Smith writes so pleasantly [The Outlook, July 26, 1916] and which she has taught so well, I should like to give my testimony to her ability as seen in one result.

Through these years I have watched the development of one scholar in many ways, but

last summer I was most agreeably surprised in one of our conversations-well, suppose I repeat it for you as nearly as I can recall it; the child was then ten years old:

"We have a good teacher now. We have pictures; one of them is 'Aurora.'”

"The only Aurora' I know is Guido's."

"This is Guido's. Some of them like it best because it has bright colors, but I like 'Sir Galahad' best."

"Do you know who wrote about Sir Galahad ?"

"Oh, yes, Tennyson. My strength is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure.' And we have 'The Sower.'" When this was described and the artist's name given, I spoke of "The Angelus,” and after a minute hearing she said, "Yes, I've seen that, but it isn't in the school."

Then I asked: "Do you know what nations are at war?" Instantly came the names of the Central Powers, and just as easily those of the Allies. And when I spoke of the relationship of the sovereigns, saying how much the Czar resembled King George, "Don't he, though!" came promptly, showing that she knew for herself. "Have you studied about this in school?" Oh, we have 'Current Events.'" There was more in like fashion, with all of which I entertained our club at home later.

Not until I saw Miss Smith's article in a late Outlook did I know who had done all this for these children.

Later, one bright, beautiful morning, when the child came on an errand for her father, and I said, "Isn't it good to be alive!" her face lighted up. She said, "I know some lines that end so," but they wouldn't come at her call. I told her how they were nicely laid away in her brain and would come, and then she could tell me. So a day or two ago she came joyfully in, saying, "They came while I was washing dishes." Here they are:

"Here and yonder, high and low,
Goldenrod and sunflowers glow.
Here and there a maple flushes,
Sumach reddens, woodbine blushes,
Purple asters bloom and thrive.
I am glad that I'm alive!"

Tolland, Massachusetts.

C. A. H.

RUSSIAN AND AMERICAN HIGH SCHOOLS In The Outlook of July 19 I read an article by Isaac Levine on the relative values of the Russian and American high schools that interested me very much, for I also have been a student in the Russian gymnasia, and am now a student in an American high school.

The chief points in the article are these two: (1) the American school needs a new force of teachers and a centralized form of government; (2) the American school is governed by a spirit

of money"über alles." The writer asserts that Russian graduates are better educated than American. But could a Russian student be more educated than an American when he is able to graduate absolutely ignorant? The average Russian high school student is of the wealthy people, for tuition is from seventy to two hundred rubles a year-a sum that poor children cannot afford. These wealthy people, in order to have their children graduate without any hardship in the examination, make money donations to the principals and teachers, for which the children are permitted to pass to the next higher grade or given diplomas without care as to their knowledge. I have witnessed many such cases in the royal schools and gymnasia of Odessa, whence I come, where they are not rare-as a matter of fact, quite common. There the Russian student aims to get into a gymnasium, not to be educated, but to wear the uniform with shiny brass buttons, attractive to the eyes of young ladies, and to get the privilege that the Russian student possesses of paying half-fare on the street cars, obtaining special seats in the theaters and circuses, and other favors dear to his heart and to that of the lady whom he admires. All of this can, and does, happen in the highly centralized school in Russia. Is this the education that Mr. Levine advocates for America?

Again, in Russia the student must take the whole prescribed course, without opportunity to choose subjects for which he has special need or liking. He must take Latin, which is given very dryly, and physics and botany, which are taught without any laboratory work-all such a monotonous grind that students are often driven to madness or suicide. The fear of not passing examinations in subjects so abominably taught often results in ten suicides a year.

I agree with Mr. Levine's statement that coeducation in the American schools improves home life and the understanding between men and women. Is not this a far nobler achievement than the surface polish that the Russian high school has? It is in the clubs of these coeducational schools that free discussions showing all sides of a case impart true knowledge and culture.

In one place the writer says that the American teacher gets better results than the Russian, and in another he recommends Russian reforms, with the centralized authority and the abnormal attitude of unity between pupils and teacher which must naturally follow.

Mr. Levine cites the case of the American teacher depending upon the book. In this respect the Russians are twice as bad-they make parrots of their pupils. One is called on to recite in a geometry lesson, and if he does not

111

explain in the words of the book is given a low mark. Do the Russians not have to memorize long, meaningless poems that show nothing more than the tyranny of the Czar? I should rather learn the fine monologues, the speeches in Shakespeare, such as, " Is this a dagger of the mind?" and others full of beautiful words, than long, meaningless prayers.

Mr. Levine wants a change, and he suggests Russia! He says: "Here the programme is the same in every high school, there the universities have their standards and will not permit a student to stay if he does not keep up in his work, there the same text-books are used everywhere." In the United States they are not; but what is the difference between the Wells and the Smith geometry? Both are modern, up-to-date books. In our gymnasium we had a geography twentyfive years old, and this book, full of nonsense, has still to be used, for it is decreed by the centralized department and forced upon the pupil and the teacher.

In order to get a position as principal, one must be a politician in favor with high Government officials. Does Mr. Levine want to draw our free high school system into the mire of politics? CHARLES STRAUSS.

North High School, Minneapolis, Minnesota.

"ENGLAND" AND BRITAIN" Nelson signaled to his fleet at the critical moment when it approached the French at Trafalgar, “England expects every man to do his duty." The word " England " has a political, dramatic, or oratorical effect. Each nation has a "core word," or national entity, in expression. "Scotland forever," not "North Britain forever." This latter would not have inspired the 'Grays" at Waterloo. The North Americans use the word "British "more than other nations or the British themselves do. The French and Germans always say "England," "the English," as the Kaiser's "the ridiculously little English army." THOMAS LATHAM.

AN APPRECIATION FROM JAPAN

"Very many thanks for The Outlook, which comes to me regularly," writes T. Kobayashi, a business man of Tokyo. "In this magazine appears sometimes an account relating to our country, and I am always thankful for its true understanding of our nation. Many disputes arising between nations are due to the lack of thorough knowledge of each other. As I trust The Outlook reflects the sentiments of your Nation, I endeavor always to grasp the true sense of Americanism through this magazine." EDITH A. SAWYER.

Wellesley, Massachusetts.