When I got on to the Pullman car, I found it was quite different from what I had imagined. I thought the berths would be stretched horizontally three quarters of the way across the car. The fact of their being placed sideways gives the sleeper a much broader berth than he has on European trains. But I will discuss this presently. There is one feature on American trains which is very different from anything in England and Europe--the attitude of the conductors. In England, and in most European countries, the conductor hovers round you for a tip. In America the conductor is an independent citizen; but I found him a singularly kind-hearted one. I wanted to send a telegram to Chicago. He did it for me. He “dead-headed” it. He found out everything I wanted to know. He was my guide, philosopher, and friend on my way to Chicago. There is something very attractive about this warm-hearted human kindness which one meets with in America, and something very refreshing in the absence of servility. It makes one breathe deep from his lungs to be among people who treat you as an equal, and expect to be treated as an equal by you. There are some countries which profess democracy, where, under the pretence of treating you as an equal, the inhabitants take pains to treat you as an inferior, but this is not so in America. Somebody--a historian, I believe--said that in the far future America and Russia would carry everything before them, owing to their driving power, which came from a fundamental kindness of heart. I believe this to be true. Russia and America are the two most hospitable countries I have ever visited. I think the Russians and the Americans are the _kindest_ people in the world, and their countries the most really democratic (whatever their respective governments may be). I spent only a few hours at Chicago, where I wandered like an ant among the gigantic buildings; then I went right on to New York, along the beautiful Hudson River, all glorious in the October tints of its woods and foliage, and then I reached New York. After my first two days in New York, I felt as the Queen of Sheba felt after she had been shown over King Solomon’s private residence: there was no spirit in me. The place took my breath away, and I haven’t yet got it back, but of that later. _New York: October_ “The difference between New York and London,” a man once said to me, “is this: in New York, if you have a new idea, you can get it carried out at once; in London, if you have a new idea, you are up against a brick wall.”