Trinity Church in Boston is another example of the same thing. Richardson’s original idea might have been a masterpiece, but, long after it was wise to change his plans, the city authorities decided, either from economy or from some other good reason, that, as the building was situated on made land, it would not stand the weight of the tower. They made him cut out fifty feet in height. You might as well cut out two inches from a woman’s neck. Also, it is not fair to criticize our own Grant’s Tomb. The architect’s plans were, I am told, that one should see a building of stone capped by a great mass of bronze figures on the top and one group on each of the four corners. The best modiste in Paris might plan a hat with four large bunches of blue flowers. It is not fair to call the hat her creation if you remove the bunches. Those in power, again probably from economy, considered the tomb of the President good enough as it was and did not add the bronzes. Now in the days of the great men in art such things were generally in the hands of a dictator—pope, king, or Mæcenas—and the people had nothing to do with them—except like them. Whistler says that the warriors, on returning from battle, did not care pro or con whether the artist-man, who stayed at home, had carved their goblets or not, as long as they were just as good to drink out of. I suppose one worships in the Trinity Church just as well, but I do not believe that Grant receives the honor that the building as it was planned would have given him, in the mind of either laborer or lord.