It is quite possible to encourage the profession of writing verse and prose by making the road easier and the goal more attractive for the weaklings who whine for nationalized alms, to enable them to pursue a craft; but literature in the big sense is created by all sorts of men and women who cannot withhold it, let the world approve, condemn, or ignore. Hence literature is incapable of encouragement. In his Gleams, which are the most intimately personal things that he has published, Mr. Björkman reiterates the conviction that artists ought to have a better chance than they now enjoy to express themselves. For instance, he says: He who is to minister to men's souls should have time and chance to acquire one for himself. And this: The children will build up the New Kingdom as soon as they are given a chance. These extracts from his Gleams taken in connection with our concluding quotation from his Century article indicate if they do not prove that Mr. Björkman regards artists as meticulous persons who must be coaxed, humored, coddled, and rewarded in order to incite them to creative activity. Obviously he means craftsmen when he uses the word artists. An artist is impelled to do his work, which is his pain, joy, and passion. If life is made easy for him the chances are that he will lose his independence and power, and descend to a popular success. Stevenson could not endure prosperity; once a man, accustomed to a hard, uphill road--he did his noblest work then--a sentimental public made it so easy for him that he eventually grew fairly Tennysonian in his output of pretty trifles. A literature worthy of the name might address itself, in Whitman's words, to authors who would be themselves in life and art: I do not offer the old smooth prizes, but offer rough new prizes; You shall not heap up what is call'd riches, You shall scatter with lavish hand all that you earn or achieve, You but arrive at the city to which you were destin'd--you hardly settle yourself to satisfaction, before you are call'd by an irresistible call to depart. The Challenge of Emma Goldman MARGARET C. ANDERSON Emma Goldman has been lecturing in Chicago, and various kinds of people have been going to hear her. I have heard her twice--once before the audience of well-dressed women who flock to her drama lectures and don't know quite what to think of her, and once at the International Labor Hall before a crowd of anarchists and syndicalists and socialists, most of whom were collarless but who knew very emphatically what they thought of her and of her ideas. I came away with a series of impressions, every one of which resolved somehow into a single conviction: that here was a great woman.