There is a widespread notion that the American possesses only a business sense and not an æsthetic sense; that the cities with their “cloud-scratchers” and elevated roads and warehouses are ugly. What a mistake! The horn of plenty that has scattered its treasures over this land has not forgotten beauty any more than wealth. Not to speak of natural beauties—Niagara Falls, the Rocky Mountains, and the like—I mean the works of man. Whoever planted woodbine, ivy, and other vines, to clamber in rich luxuriance up the walls, even to the roofs of houses and churches, knew that he was creating beauty. Here again nature comes to man’s aid, for the autumn foliage glows and gleams in colors which are quite unknown in our landscapes. In contrast with the brilliant hues there are soft and tender tones,—such an azure green, such a rosy gray, such a bright golden violet as only the most audacious art secessionist would venture to mix on his palette. After the close of the Boston Congress public meetings were arranged in many other cities,—New York, Philadelphia, Worcester, Springfield, Northampton, Toronto, Buffalo, Cincinnati, and elsewhere; and in these places the principal men and women who had been speaking at the Peace Congress gave lectures concerning the transactions there and the peace movement in general. Everywhere were the same enthusiastic interest on the part of the public, the same dignified treatment on the part of official circles, and the same detailed and approving reports from the press. Our lectures were desired and applauded in churches, universities, girls’ schools, workingmen’s homes, concert halls,—everywhere.