140 IN A WINTER CITl.
of art or architecture, such as no other land can
" Despafr! God forbid that I should despafr.
I think there is infinite hope, but I cannot dis¬
guise from myself that there are infinite dangers
also. An uneducated peasantry has had its reU-
gion torn away from it, and has no other moral
landmark set to cUng to; old ways and old
venerations are kicked aside and nothing substi¬
tuted ; pubUc business means almost universaUj
pubUc pUlage; the new text placed before the
regenerated nation is, ' make money, honestly if
you can—but make money ! * haste, avarice, accu¬
mulation, cunnuig, neglect of all loveliness,
desecration of aU ancientness—these, the modem
curses which accompany 'progress'—are set before
a scarcely awakened people as the proper objects
and idols of thefr efforts. We, who are chiefly
to be moved by our affections and our imagina¬
tions, are only bidden to be henceforth inspired
by a joyless prosperity and a loveless materiaUsm.
We, the hefrs of the godhead of the Arts, are only
counseUed to emulate the mechanical inventions
and the unscrupulous commerce of the American