Toronto is a dashing, go-ahead, clean, handsome, well-governed city. It is not run in the interests of ground landlords and private monopolies. The inhabitants, when they pay their five cents for a ride by electric tramcar (and you go as far as you like for that), are putting money into their own pockets. Indeed, the municipal revenue from the tramway traffic since 1891 has totalled about £1,000,000, the annual instalments having appreciably assisted to keep down the rates. The tramway system is not a haphazard growth—it is not, as in some English cities, a tangle of unrelated parts. It is a scientific unity supplying means of quick transit over the twenty-eight square miles on which the city stands. No one dreams of walking any distance in Toronto. Its electric cars annually carry a number of passengers equal to the population of the United States. Toronto, I say, breathes the spirit of progress and of the opening era—of the good new times controlled by a concern for the many, instead of for the few. Still in its early youth, Toronto is already one of the notable cities of the world. It is growing vigorously. Measure its future greatness if you can. There is no need to preach Garden City principles in Toronto. Its administrators will never be under the necessity of seizing upon half-rood burial grounds, and clearing off the gravestones, in order to provide a gasping population with a little live air. In addition to broad, tree-planted thoroughfares, Toronto has fifty parks and gardens, covering an area of over fifteen hundred acres. Not that the city is in any danger of running short of unpolluted atmosphere, since it is situated beside a lake that is wider than many parts of the English Channel and nearly two hundred miles longer. Moreover, electric power from Niagara obviates the nuisance of smoky chimneys.