THE FLAME OF THE CANDLE

It is safe to say that never in its history has Symphony Hall been able to boast of a more impressive scene than that which will take place there tonight. Both actually and allegorically, the Hoover dinner for the relief of Europe's starving children touches the interest and sympathy of every American.

There are times when there is an inclination to feel that this country has been overburdened with appeals, roll-calls and drives--that our purses are becoming scanty even for our own needs. But there are also times when we can realize that there is in the world a greater need than ours, and we find that we can still give accordingly. It is to bring home this realization that a dinner is to be served tonight, consisting of the same fare as is given to the children in whose aid the benefit is being held. At the head of the table a single lighted candle will symbolize the presence of the "unseen guest."

Contrary to most relief dinners, the outlay for the meal itself will be practically nothing. In this way, besides the unusual appeal made by the simplicity of the whole affair, the funds collected can be turned over "in tote" to be used over seas, without being deviated into numerous channels of expense. This in itself, is an admirable plan. But it is with the flame of the candle that the diners will be most concerned. There burns the mysticism of the lives of a coming generation; great and unselfish indeed is the spirit of those who would shield for a time the newly lighted and helpless name from the premature blasts or an unheeding world.