the differences between one civilization and another are always slight,
though they are invariably exaggerated by rumor.

I know that the "sporting instinct"--a curious combination of the
various instincts for fresh air, destruction, physical prowess,
emulation, devotion, and betting--is tolerably strong in America. I
could name a list of American sports as long as the list of dutiable
articles in the customs tariff. I am aware that over a million golf
balls are bought (and chiefly lost) in the United States every year. I
know that no residence there is complete without its lawn-tennis court.
I accept the statement that its hunting is unequaled. I have admired the
luxury and completeness of its country clubs. Its yachting is renowned.
Its horse-shows, to which enthusiasts repair in automobiles, are
wondrous displays of fashion. But none of these things is democratic;
none enters into the life of the mass of the people. Nor can that fierce
sport be called quite democratic which depends exclusively upon, and is
limited to, the universities. A six-day cycling contest and a
Presidential election are, of course, among the very greatest sporting
events in the world, but they do not occur often enough to merit
consideration as constant factors of national existence.

[Illustration: THE HORSE-SHOWS ARE WONDROUS DISPLAYS OF FASHION]

Baseball remains a formidable item, yet scarcely capable of balancing
the scale against the sports--football, cricket, racing, pelota,
bull-fighting--which, in Europe, impassion the common people, and draw
most of their champions from the common people. In Europe the
advertisement hoardings--especially in the provinces--proclaim sport
throughout every month of the year; not so in America. In Europe the
most important daily news is still the sporting news, as any editor will