morated in M.
Bartholdi's statue; and if we would discover the Liberty of America, we
must surely look outside the ring of boodlers and politicians who have
held the franchise up to ridicule. Is, then, the boasted Liberty a
liberty of life? One comes and goes with ease as great in England as
in America. There are even certain restrictions imposed in the home of
Freedom, of which we know nothing on this side the Atlantic, where we
fear the curiosity of the Press as little as we dread the exactions of
hungry monopolies. Of many examples, two will suffice to illustrate
the hardships of a democratic tyranny. Not long since the most famous
actress of our generation was prevented by a trust of all-powerful
managers from playing in the theatres of America, and was compelled to
take refuge in booths and tents. Being a lady of courage and resource,
she filled her new _role_ with perfect success, and completely outwitted
her envious rivals. The victory was snatched, by the actress's own
energy, from the very jaws of Liberty. Far more unfortunate was the fate
of M. Gorki, who visited America to preach the gospel of Freedom, as he
thought, in willing ears. With the utmost propriety he did all that was
expected of him. He apostrophised the statue in a voice tremulous with
emotion. He addressed the great Continent, as it loves to be addressed.
"America! America!" he exclaimed, "how I have longed for this day, when
my foot should tread the soil where despotism cannot live!" Alas for his
lost enthusiasm!

A despot, grim and pitiless, was waiting for him round the corner. In
other words, the proprietor of his hotel discovered that Mme. Gorki
had no right to that name, and amid the cheers of the guests he and his
companion were driven shamefully into the street. Were it not for
the wanton inconvenience inflicted upon M. Gorki, the comedy of the
situation would be priceless. The Friends of Russian Freedom, piously
enamoured of assassination, and listening intently for the exquisite
reverberation of the deadly bomb, sternly demand of the Apostle his
marriage-lines. The Apostle of Revolution, unable to satisfy the demand,
is solemnly excommunicated, as if he had apostrophised no statue, as if
he had felt no expansion of his lungs, no tingling of his blood, when he
first breathed the air of Freedom. O Liberty! Liberty! many follies
have been committed in thy name! And now thy voice is hushed in
inextinguishable laughter!

The truth is, Ame