? And being for my own self,
what am I?" "Pirqe Aboth," I, 14.--Translator's Note.

* * * * *

THE FIRST STEP

_Leonid Nikolayevich Andreyev, the author of impressive tales and
remarkable dramas, is well known both in America and in England.
Since the beginning of the Great War he has devoted himself to
the artistic portrayal of the war's effect on his country, and
also to purely publicistic tasks. He was born in 1871._

THE FIRST STEP

BY LEONID ANDREYEV

"O heavens, if within your blue,
Old God is still alive and mighty,
Unseen by me alone, ye pray
For me and for my doom e'er bleeding!
My lips no more are fraught with hymns,
No brawn in arm, no hope in heart....
How long, how long, how long?"

--H. BYALIK.

It is with deep emotion that I have read in the Polish _New Gazette_
an interview about the Jewish question with a personage of high
station who seems to be really well informed. According to this
personage, a number of measures are being proposed and planned, which
are intended to lighten the grievous lot of the Jews in Russia: the
abolition of the "Pale of Settlement" in relation to towns large and
small, the abrogation of the percentage "norm" in the secondary and
higher educational institutions, the establishment of special Jewish
schools, the reorganisation of Jewish emigration on a broad and
rational basis. I confess that I was not prompt in giving credence to
these good tidings. And those with whom I shared the news, although
excited no less than I, accepted them also with some degree of
diffidence, which is only natural in Russians: life indulges us so
rarely and so reluctantly. But private rumours corroborate this news,
and to persist in one's disbelief would mean to doubt the very meaning
of the present great "emancipatory" war, which is building a glorious
temple of renovated life on the blood of Russians, Poles, Jews and
Lithuanians. And finally, I simply cannot help believing, for my soul
is weary with waiting and repeating together with the great Jewish
poet: "How long, how long, how long?"

An aged journalist, who, it seems, has lost all fervour and faith, has
recently laughed in his sleeve at the word "miracle," which nowadays
comes so often to our lips: according to him, miracles, generally
speaking, do not exist. It is my opinion also that there are no
miracles, if we understand by