beauty; that "a man is a beggar who only lives to the useful." It will
probably require several generations yet to induce the American people
to accept his doctrine that all moments and objects can be embellished,
and that cheerfulness, serenity, and repose in energy are the "end of
culture and success enough."

It has been clearly perceived of late that a leading object in education
is the cultivation of fine manners. On this point the teachings of
Emerson are fundamental; but the American institutions of education are
only beginning to appreciate their significance. He teaches that genius
or love invents fine manners, "which the baron and the baroness copy
very fast, and by the advantage of a palace better the instruction. They
stereotype the lesson they have learned into a mode." There is much in
that phrase, "by the advantage of a palace." For generations, American
institutions of education were content with the humblest sort of
shelters, with plain wooden huts and brick barracks, and unkempt grounds
about the buildings. They are only lately beginning to acquire fine
buildings with pleasing surroundings; that is, they are just beginning
to carry into practice Emerson's wisdom of sixty years ago. The American
cities are beginning to build handsome houses for their High Schools.
Columbia University builds a noble temple for its library. The graduates
and friends of Harvard like to provide her with a handsome fence round
the Yard, with a fair array of shrubs within the fence, with a handsome
stadium instead of shabby, wooden seats round the football gridiron, and
to take steps for securing in the future broad connections between the
grounds of the University and the Cambridge parks by the river. They are
just now carrying into practice Emerson's teaching; by the advantage of
a palace they mean to better Harvard's instruction in manners. They are
accepting his doctrine that "manners make the fortune of the ambitious
youth; that for the most part his manners marry him, and, for the most