potent reason for the outpouring that took place that memorable January was that their presence might convey to our President an expression of their esteem and an earnest of their appreciation of his efforts. No American, though he had the heart of a frog and the emotional caliber of a lizard, could suppress the succession of thrills that mounted from his bowels to his brain on seeing with what dignity, suavity, and self-respecting composure their Chief Magistrate comported himself as he was transported through the Via Nazionale, seated beside the most democratic and beloved king in the world. Though the American spectator had spent his time impregnating with venom darts which he believed he would gladly drive into the President, he had to admit that there was a man who more than satisfied all of Kipling's "Ifs." When he encountered him later in the Palazzo del Drago acting as host at the table of his country's charming ambassadress, or at Montecitorio, where he told the Solons of Italy of his country's hopes, ideals, aspirations, and willingness, or in less solemn moments on the Capitoline, when he received the honorary citizenship of Rome, he knew that his first impressions were founded in verity and he lent a willing ear to the screech of the American eagle which revealed itself throughout the entire Italian press. Every city of Italy clamored for a visit, and though he spent but a few minutes in Genoa and a few hours in Milan, the outpouring of the people to welcome him was no less remarkable than it was in Rome. The tribute which Europe gave Mr. Wilson seemed to depress many of his countrymen on the other side of the Atlantic. It is an extraordinary thing that while Europe rocked with his fame America reeked with his infamy.