ch an august assemblage as that of the legislators
of a nation.

[Illustration: THE PRESIDENT--IDEAL.]

[Illustration: THE PRESIDENT--REAL.]

Privacy is unknown in America. Everyone there, from the President in the
White House to your Chinese washerman in his laundry, is accessible to
all. I have visited both with less difficulty than I would experience in
approaching Brown, Jones or Robinson in this country. Here the business
man's time is his own, and you must not rob him of a minute any more
than of his cheque-book. In America a business man's time belongs to
anyone who may require it. You walk in to see him at will, and if
Jonathan can earn a dollar whilst in his bath by talking to you through
the keyhole he will do it, and he is just as open in giving his time to
show you any gracious action. The busiest man in America, the President,
surrounded by affairs of State, leaves them and shakes my hand in
welcome to his country. I say shakes my hand, for although I apologise
for my intrusion (which, by the way, was quite unnecessary) and pay him
some pleasant compliments, President Harrison replies only by shaking my
hand. I wax eloquent over the magnificence of the great country over
which he presides; I touch upon the coming election, and even give him
some information of value which I happen to have overheard by accident.
I lead him to believe that I am entrusted with secrets by the English
Cabinet about the Behring Straits and other vexed questions, and I
openly tell him what I believe to be the dark designs of England upon a
free country; in fact, I don't know what I don't tell him, and now that
he is no more I see no just cause or impediment why I should not now
make public his reply. It is all on the next page.

* * * * *

[Illustration]

As all English people could not get to Niagara, Niagara was brought to
them in the shape of an excellent diorama, which proved a great success
in London a few years ago. The atmospheric effect in all dioramas is
procured by making the visitor first pass through dark passages, fall up
unlighted stairs, and tumble about in the tortuous corridors in the
blackness; then, brought suddenly face to face with the picture well lit
up, the eye is affected by the glare of light, which would not be the
case if the spectator walked straight into the diorama from the street.
Now, curiously enough, you approach the real Niagara in much the same
way--that is