As the thrift of the worker is the root of our material prosperity, so is the thrift of the rich its flower and choicest fruit. What would America be, what would Europe be without the savings of the well-to-do, accumulated from generation to generation, and here now at our command and for our use manifested not only in railroads, ships, canals, banks and all the buildings and equipments of commerce and industry, but also in fine mansions, in elegant furniture, in beautiful lawns and gardens, in churches, cathedrals, hospitals, universities and museums? From out the ranks of the opulent and thrifty classes, and especially of those of them who have scorned waste, extravagance, dissipation and vulgar display, came the leaders in the social army, the noble pioneers of taste and beauty. We hear much canting laudation of the frontier pioneers, a rough and coarse set mostly, of whom such as did their part deserve the credit. But far more excellent and admirable are those to whose zeal, enthusiastic taste and noble self-denial we owe most of the preserved and accumulated treasures of the earth in architecture, painting, sculpture and ornamentation. In every age, in every generation they appear on the scene, little bands of modest amateurs, devoting time, patience and money to rescuing these treasures from destruction, and to fostering, instructing and creating public taste for created beauty. They seek and teach the best in life, leisure, refinement and loveliness; they introduce noble and graceful fashions in dress, manners and deportment and set fine examples to the world. The public museums and opera are endowed by their benefactions; they are the patrons of the best music, the purest drama, and the most inspiring architecture. And not merely to the cultivated very rich who are able to do so much, but also to the refined of the more modest middle class is our gratitude due for their leadership in this same direction. We see their tasteful comfortable houses dotting the landscape; their good sidewalks, shady street trees, gardens and orchards delight the wayfarer. In improving the public taste in the choice of furniture, or book bindings, of music and other things they are constantly helping along our civilization and forwarding the interests of the Social Commonwealth. They train their children so that they often become still more tasteful than their parents; they set an example of decent living to the poorer classes; they beautify the land; they give the rest of us something to aspire to. As we pass through a handsome well-kept American village let us give a thought of gratitude to the folk of all degrees of well-to-do, most of them now dead and gone, who planted and built well, who dressed, talked and lived like gentlemen and ladies; who improved the life and manners of their time and left the world better housed, better mannered and better looking than they found it. Of such is the history of the nation’s progress.