least in our larger cities.
These are gains, to be balanced by a few losses.
For instance, an institution which was once more potent than all of these for the intellectual training of the adult American has almost ceased to exist in its original form.
The engrossing excitement of public affairs has nearly abolished the old Lyceum, and put a political orator in the lecturer's place.
Science and art have long ceased to be the most available subjects for a popular lecture.
Agassiz and Bayard Taylor, by dint of exceedingly rapid and continuous travelling, can still find a few regions which Americans will consent to hear described, outside of America; and a few wandering lecturers on geology still haunt the field, their discourses being almost coeval with their specimens.
Emerson still makes his stately tour, through wondering Western towns, where an enterprising public spirit sometimes, it is said, plans a dance for the same evening in the same hall,--Tickets to lecture and ball on