In the field of æsthetics the distinction between the “higher” and the “lower” senses is no less clear. Museums and galleries we have in abundance in which are preserved and displayed the treasures of light and shade, color and form, line and arrangement. Private and public funds are appropriated in order that these impressions may have the widest possible circulation. Visitors and classes throng the corridors of these storehouses; teachers and schools flourish on the profits derived from the communication and publication of the principles concerned in their manufacture; statues are erected to the most deserving craftsmen; and earnest apprentices starve in foreign garrets in order that their handicraft may in time adorn these walls. Much the same thing is true of pleasing arrangements of sound impressions. All possible pains are taken to record the scheme and plan of their production, and the heartiest welcome is accorded any device, instrument, or organization which will facilitate their being stored up and poured out again for the delectation of remote or future audiences. But to what museum or gallery shall one go who longs to experience the glorious array of pleasing contacts, textures and pressures, odors, tastes, and temperatures? Where shall one find stored up representatives of the most satisfying and thrilling touch impressions that experience has ever yielded, the whole gamut of delectable odors, with all the offensive ones left out; all the aromas and savors and flavors in which the gustatory and olfactory world is so rich? And all the organic thrills, the kinæsthetic whirls and starts, and the delicious dizzinesses of static experiences? Coney Island and its brood are the only institutions that even pretend to minister to those whose nature yearns for these satisfactions, and Coney Island is supported neither by philanthropic endowment nor by public appropriations. It is even said that its joys are thought to be “vulgar” among certain classes of people, whose passions run mainly toward sights and sounds. There can be no doubt about it. Certain of the senses are more æsthetic than others, if by this we mean that special arts have been built up which busy themselves with the materials afforded by them. Certain of the senses, again, are unæsthetic, in the sense that the materials afforded by them have not yielded to that sort of structural manipulation which constitutes the procedure of one of the “fine arts.” And, furthermore, such manipulation as they do submit to is not only not considered “fine,” but is designated by the negative term “unæsthetic”; the materials themselves, as well as those who busy themselves with them, are quite likely to be esteemed “coarse” and “nasty.” _Bounty of Nature and Ecclesiastical Censorship_