ratification of the
aesthetic tastes or the indulgence of the leisure of the common people.
The people being, then, our sovereigns, it has not been felt that they
would or could have the largeness of view, the foresight, the sympathy
with leisure, elegance, and ease, to provide liberally and expensively
for their own recreation and refreshment. A bald utility has been the
anticipated genius of our public policy. Our national Mercury was to be
simply the god of the post-office, or the sprite of the barometer,--our
Pan, to keep the crows from the corn-fields,--our Muses, to preside over
district-schools. It begins now to appear that the people are not likely
to think anything too good for themselves, or to higgle about the
expense of whatever ministers largely to their tastes and fancies,--that
political freedom, popular education, the circulation of newspapers,
books, engravings, pictures, have already created a public which
understands that man does not live by bread alone,--which demands
leisure, beauty, space, architecture, landscape, music, elegance, with
an imperative voice, and is ready to back its demands with the necessary
self-taxation. This experience our absolute faith in free institutions
enabled us to anticipate as the inevitable result of our political
system; but let us confess that the rapidity with which it has developed
itself has taken us by surprise. We knew, that, when the people truly
realized their sovereignty, they would claim not only the utilitarian,
but the artistic and munificent attributes of their throne,--and that
all the splendors and decorations, all the provisions for leisure,
taste, and recreation, which kings and courts have made, would be found
to be mere preludes and rehearsals to the grander arrangements and
achievements of the vastly richer and more legitimate sovereign, the
People, when he understood his own right and duty. As dynasties and
thrones have been predictions of the royalty of the people, so old
courts and old capitals, with all their pomp and circumstance, their
parks and gardens, galleries and statues, are but dim prefigurings of
the glories of architecture, the grandeur of the grounds, the splendor
and richness of the museums and conservatories with which the people
will finally crown their own self-respect and decorate their own
majesty. But we did not expect to see this sure prophecy turning itself
into history in our day. We thought the people were too busy with the
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