nything of the
kind--except the illustrated ones--but what relied more or less upon
prurient matter to tickle the fancies of prurient minds. Besides, my
idea is that, just at present, the Board Schools tend to a certain
hardness and narrowness of character, which is perhaps softened down by
the development by these papers of the lighter side of human nature.
_Tit-Bits_, I have reason to know, has in many cases induced the study
of some science or literature on the part of a man or boy who has read
some interesting 'tit-bit' on one of these subjects, and has desired,
naturally enough, to know more about it."

[Illustration: THE CONSERVATORY.]

"Will it ever be possible, Mr. Newnes, do you think, to provide the
masses with the higher journalism, with a sort of _Saturday Review_, or
_Nineteenth Century_?" I asked. "I don't think," he slowly replied,
shaking his head, "I don't think, Radical as I am, and absolute
believer in the sovereignty of the people, that the masses will ever
take to any paper which consists mainly of essays or leaders. They want
things served up with other interesting matter, and with as much of the
personal element as it is possible to give them. The masses still
incline entirely to the lighter side of literature. They work hard
enough in everyday life, their recreation and their literature _must_,
therefore, be as light as possible."

[Illustration: IN THE BILLIARD-ROOM.]

"And now, Mr. Newnes, for one more question--a good long one," I
laughingly added. "Having all your life been so successful yourself, as
you look round London, with the struggle for existence, and the mingling
of classes which makes that struggle for existence still harder, how do
you really account for your own wonderful success, and how would you
recommend others to be successful too, even though only in a small way?"
"I really don't know how I can answer that question," he replied. "The
only thing is, I have always been struck with the fact that so many
people go about with their eyes shut, and do not see the chances which
may be before them. They have no idea of doing anything beyond what they
may have seen done before, and what they are told to do. They are
frightened by originality lest it might be disastrous. I suppose I have
been inclined to do things differently rather than the same as other
people, and I have always struck while the iron was hot. That, I think,
to put it very briefly, is the secret of any success whi