Whatever may be one's views on Zionism, there can be no doubt that it has proved a power for good in Russia. It introduced new ideals and revived old expectations. It has accomplished, in a measure, the fond hope of the Maskilim and awakened within the Russian Jew a feeling of self-respect and a "consciousness of human worth." Different and contending elements it has coalesced into one. It has, above all, brought back to the fold the doubting Thomases and careless Gallios, even the avowed scoffers, among the Jewish youth, and imbued them with courage and pride,[13] and given them a new shibboleth, _Meine Kunst der Welt, mein Leben meinem Volke_ ("My art for the world, my life for my people"). "We have seen our youths return to us," writes Lilienblum,[14] "and our hearts were filled with joy. In their restoration we found balm for our wounds, and with rapturous wonderment we asked 'who has borne us these?'" The poets welcomed them with songs. Gordon, whose sorrow had silenced his muse, was inspired once more and called: Behold our sons, of whom we despaired, Return to us, the great and the small; God's grace is not ended, our power's unimpaired, Again we shall live, and rise after the fall! Frug sang in Russian: My own Nation, Thou art not alone; thy sons behold Coming back in crowds as in days of old! And Zunser represented Rachel as soliloquizing in Yiddish: Through the windows what am I seeing, Like turtle-doves hitherward fleeing? Are my Joseph and Benjamin knocking at my door? O Heavens, O mighty wonder! Those are my children yonder! Yes, my dearest and my truest coming home once more! But Zionism is not exclusively either a political or a religious movement. It is both plus something else; it is eminently educational. It has produced novelists and poets, whose writings are full of the virility and beauty of a rejuvenated nation. In Jaffa it established a high school (Bet ha-Sefer), it inspired Doctor Chazanowicz to establish a national library, and ways and means are being considered to establish a national university in Palestine. Even among the devotees of the arts it has given rise to a new romantic school, young painters and sculptors who are depicting their Judenschmerz. Their cunning hands--says Mr. Leo Mielziner--have mastered the technique of their art, be it in Moscow or Munich, or Berlin, or Paris, but the heart which inspires their brush or mallet pulsates in Palestine. The wandering Jew in them pauses, not to portray the impression of the foreign lands and stranger customs, but to depict his own suffering, his own Heimweh, his own aspirations.