diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:09:29 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:09:29 -0700 |
| commit | 08593bf45bd751bbab7f110f171390b85da02b63 (patch) | |
| tree | cdd02c018c0b5579afd86b6ec528de9a11095db8 /38076-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '38076-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/38076-h.htm | 12743 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 21906 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs001.jpg | bin | 0 -> 34355 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs002.jpg | bin | 0 -> 44813 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs003.jpg | bin | 0 -> 42399 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs004.jpg | bin | 0 -> 53116 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs005.jpg | bin | 0 -> 41306 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs006.jpg | bin | 0 -> 47518 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs007.jpg | bin | 0 -> 55895 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs008.jpg | bin | 0 -> 42610 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs009.jpg | bin | 0 -> 50638 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs010.jpg | bin | 0 -> 52005 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs011.jpg | bin | 0 -> 44256 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs012.jpg | bin | 0 -> 57186 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs013.jpg | bin | 0 -> 51519 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs014.jpg | bin | 0 -> 32228 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs015.jpg | bin | 0 -> 56494 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs016.jpg | bin | 0 -> 44706 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs017.jpg | bin | 0 -> 38258 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs018.jpg | bin | 0 -> 57287 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs019.jpg | bin | 0 -> 63164 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs020.jpg | bin | 0 -> 62829 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs021.jpg | bin | 0 -> 61547 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs022.jpg | bin | 0 -> 54915 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs023.jpg | bin | 0 -> 47735 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs024.jpg | bin | 0 -> 39433 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs025.jpg | bin | 0 -> 46249 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs026.jpg | bin | 0 -> 47599 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs027.jpg | bin | 0 -> 41178 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs028.jpg | bin | 0 -> 41822 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs029.jpg | bin | 0 -> 39039 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs030.jpg | bin | 0 -> 36980 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs031.jpg | bin | 0 -> 43481 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs032.jpg | bin | 0 -> 44220 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs033.jpg | bin | 0 -> 50427 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs034.jpg | bin | 0 -> 31608 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs035.jpg | bin | 0 -> 53730 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs036.jpg | bin | 0 -> 48875 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs037.jpg | bin | 0 -> 40828 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs038.jpg | bin | 0 -> 60910 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs039.jpg | bin | 0 -> 40071 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs040.jpg | bin | 0 -> 54143 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs041.jpg | bin | 0 -> 53502 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs042.jpg | bin | 0 -> 51184 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs043.jpg | bin | 0 -> 61609 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs044.jpg | bin | 0 -> 61329 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs045.jpg | bin | 0 -> 57674 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs046.jpg | bin | 0 -> 44858 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs047.jpg | bin | 0 -> 55399 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs048.jpg | bin | 0 -> 48863 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs049.jpg | bin | 0 -> 52467 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs050.jpg | bin | 0 -> 62037 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs051.jpg | bin | 0 -> 50312 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs052.jpg | bin | 0 -> 58365 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs053.jpg | bin | 0 -> 53495 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs054.jpg | bin | 0 -> 59888 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs055.jpg | bin | 0 -> 59397 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs056.jpg | bin | 0 -> 67697 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs057.jpg | bin | 0 -> 55182 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs058.jpg | bin | 0 -> 46895 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs059.jpg | bin | 0 -> 61179 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs060.jpg | bin | 0 -> 54079 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs061.jpg | bin | 0 -> 46507 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs062.jpg | bin | 0 -> 55343 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs064.jpg | bin | 0 -> 53376 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs065.jpg | bin | 0 -> 69186 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs066.jpg | bin | 0 -> 45461 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs067.jpg | bin | 0 -> 46153 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs068.jpg | bin | 0 -> 52860 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs069.jpg | bin | 0 -> 61322 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs070.jpg | bin | 0 -> 63556 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs071.jpg | bin | 0 -> 51664 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs072.jpg | bin | 0 -> 53867 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs073.jpg | bin | 0 -> 60159 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs074.jpg | bin | 0 -> 50190 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs075.jpg | bin | 0 -> 51077 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs076.jpg | bin | 0 -> 52556 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs077.jpg | bin | 0 -> 58923 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs078.jpg | bin | 0 -> 52826 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs079.jpg | bin | 0 -> 65629 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs080.jpg | bin | 0 -> 61223 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs081.jpg | bin | 0 -> 68436 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs082.jpg | bin | 0 -> 39925 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs083.jpg | bin | 0 -> 48308 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs084.jpg | bin | 0 -> 50647 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs086.jpg | bin | 0 -> 60122 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs087.jpg | bin | 0 -> 48878 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs088.jpg | bin | 0 -> 55692 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs089.jpg | bin | 0 -> 43027 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs090.jpg | bin | 0 -> 27943 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs091.jpg | bin | 0 -> 55768 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs092.jpg | bin | 0 -> 45620 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs093.jpg | bin | 0 -> 53225 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs094.jpg | bin | 0 -> 50804 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs095.jpg | bin | 0 -> 47049 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs096.jpg | bin | 0 -> 51756 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs097.jpg | bin | 0 -> 39822 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs098.jpg | bin | 0 -> 47202 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs099.jpg | bin | 0 -> 41332 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs100.jpg | bin | 0 -> 61364 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs101.jpg | bin | 0 -> 52640 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs102.jpg | bin | 0 -> 41912 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs103.jpg | bin | 0 -> 52682 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs104.jpg | bin | 0 -> 38428 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs105.jpg | bin | 0 -> 53261 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs106.jpg | bin | 0 -> 39094 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/gs107.jpg | bin | 0 -> 39933 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38076-h/images/tp.jpg | bin | 0 -> 5666 bytes |
108 files changed, 12743 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/38076-h/38076-h.htm b/38076-h/38076-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..de5ce1a --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/38076-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12743 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Our Philadelphia, by Elizabeth Robins Pennell. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body {margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%;} + +h1,h2,h3,h4,h5 {text-align: center; + clear: both;} + +p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em;} + +hr {width: 50%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both;} + +ins {text-decoration:none; + border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + +.tnote {border: dashed 1px; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em;} + +.pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right;} + +.blockquot {margin-left: 30%; + margin-right: 30%;} + +.center {text-align: center;} +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter {margin: auto; + text-align: center;} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem {margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left;} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 {display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Our Philadelphia, by Elizabeth Robins Pennell + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Our Philadelphia + +Author: Elizabeth Robins Pennell + +Illustrator: Joseph Pennell + +Release Date: November 21, 2011 [EBook #38076] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR PHILADELPHIA *** + + + + +Produced by Judith Wirawan, Suzanne Shell, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<br /> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="400" height="178" alt="Cover" title="" /> +<span class="caption"> </span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Frontispiece" id="Frontispiece"></a> </span> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 298px;"> +<img src="images/gs001.jpg" width="298" height="400" alt="LOOKING UP BROAD STREET FROM SPRUCE STREET" title="" /> +<span class="caption">LOOKING UP BROAD STREET FROM SPRUCE STREET</span> +</div> + +<hr /> +<h1>OUR PHILADELPHIA</h1> + +<h3>DESCRIBED BY ELIZABETH ROBINS PENNELL<br /> +ILLUSTRATED WITH ONE HUNDRED & FIVE<br /> +LITHOGRAPHS BY JOSEPH PENNELL</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 99px;"> +<img src="images/tp.jpg" width="99" height="100" alt="Logo" title="" /> +</div> + +<h4>PHILADELPHIA AND LONDON<br /> +J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY<br /> +MCMXIV</h4> + +<hr /> +<h5>COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY</h5> + +<h5>PUBLISHED OCTOBER, 1914</h5> + +<h5>PRINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY<br /> +AT THE WASHINGTON SQUARE PRESS<br /> +PHILADELPHIA, U. S. A.</h5> + +<hr /> +<h2>PREFACE</h2> + +<p>To-day, when it is the American born in the Ghetto, +or Syria, or some other remote part of the earth, whose +recollections are prized, it may seem as if the following +pages called for an apology. I have none to make. They +were written simply for the pleasure of gathering together +my old memories of a town that, as my native place, +is dear to me and my new impressions of it after an absence +of a quarter of a century. But now I have finished I add +to this pleasure in my book the pleasant belief that it will +have its value for others, if only for two reasons. In +the first place, J.'s drawings which illustrate it are his +record of the old Philadelphia that has passed and the +new Philadelphia that is passing—a record that in a few +years it will be impossible for anybody to make, so continually +is Philadelphia changing. In the second, my +story of Philadelphia, perfect or imperfect, may in as +short a time be equally impossible for anybody to repeat, +since I am one of those old-fashioned Americans, American +by birth with many generations of American +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'forefathers' and 'fore-fathers' were used in this text. This was retained.">fore-fathers</ins>, +who are rapidly becoming rare creatures among +the hordes of new-fashioned Americans who were anything +and everything else no longer than a year or a week +or an hour ago.</p> + +<h5 class="right"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth Robins Pennell</span></h5> +<p><span class="smcap">3 Adelphi Terrace House, London</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">May, 1914</span></p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="90%" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td><h5 class="right">CHAPTER</h5></td><td> </td><td><h5 class="right">PAGE</h5></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">I.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">An Explanation</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">II.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Child in Philadelphia</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">III.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Child in Philadelphia</span> (Continued)</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IV.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">At the Convent</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">V.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Transitional</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_104">104</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VI.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Social Adventure</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_130">130</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VII.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Social Adventure: The Assembly</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_154">154</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VIII.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Question of Creed</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IX.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The First Awakening</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">X.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Miracle of Work</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_233">233</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XI.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Romance of Work</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_268">268</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XII.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Philadelphia and Literature</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_304">304</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIII.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Philadelphia and Literature</span> (Continued)</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_332">332</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIV.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Philadelphia and Art</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_368">368</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XV.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Philadelphia and Art</span> (Continued)</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_390">390</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVI.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Philadelphia at Table</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_413">413</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVII.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Philadelphia at Table</span> (Continued)</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_433">433</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVIII.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Philadelphia after a Quarter of a Century</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_451">451</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIX.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Philadelphia after a Quarter of a Century</span> (Continued)</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_477">477</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XX.</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Philadelphia after a Quarter of a Century</span> (Continued)</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_509">509</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Index</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_543">543</a></td></tr> +</table></div> +<hr /> + +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="90%" summary="Illustrations"> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td><h5 class="right">PAGE</h5></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Looking up Broad Street from Spruce Street</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Frontispiece"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap"><ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'Delancey' and 'De Lancey' were used in this text. This was retained.">Delancey</ins> +Place</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_2">3</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">"Portico Row," Spruce Street</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_9">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Arch Street Meeting House</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_12">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Schuylkill South from Callowhill Street</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_16">17</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Friends' Graveyard, Germantown</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_20">21</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">In Rittenhouse Square</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_24">25</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Pennsylvania Hospital from the Grounds</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_28">29</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">"<span class="smcap">Eleventh and Spruce</span>"</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_32">33</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Drawing Room at Cliveden</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_36">37</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Back-yards, St. Peter's Spire in the Distance</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_44">45</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Independence Square and the State House</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_53">51</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Christ Church Interior</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_59">57</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Classic Fairmount</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_67">65</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Down Pine Street</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_68">69</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Loudoun, Main Street, Germantown</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_74">75</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Entrance to Fairmount and the Washington Statue</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_82">83</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Main Street, Germantown</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_91">89</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Arch Street Meeting</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_94">95</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Train Shed, Broad Street Station</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_98">99</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">St. Peter's, Interior</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_104">105</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Pennsylvania Hospital from Pine Street</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_111">109</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Second Street Market</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_113">115</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Fourth and Arch Streets Meeting House</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_120">121</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Johnson House, Germantown</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_129">127</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Customs House</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_133">131</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Under Broad Street Station at Fifteenth Street</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_137">135</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Philadelphia Club, Thirteenth and Walnut Streets</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_140">141</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The New Ritz-Carlton; The Finishing Touches; The Walnut Street Addition Has Since Been Made</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_151">149</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Hall, Stenton</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_154">155</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">"<span class="smcap">Proclaim Liberty Throughout all the Land into all the Inhabitants Thereof</span>"</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_158">159</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Bed Room, Stenton, the Home of James Logan</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_162">163</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Tunnel in the Park</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_166">167</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Boat Houses on the Schuylkill</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_173">171</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Pulpit, St. Peter's</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_181">179</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Cathedral, Logan Square</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_184">185</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Christ Church, from Second Street</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_188">189</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">First Presbyterian Church, Seventh Street and Washington Square</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_197">195</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Old Swedes' Church</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_200">201</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Independence Hall: The Original Desk on Which the Declaration of Independence was Signed and the Chair Used by the President of Congress, John Hancock, in 1776</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_206">207</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Philadelphia from Belmont</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_210">211</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Dining Room, Stenton</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_216">217</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Down the Aisle at Christ Church</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_222">223</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Bridge Across Market Street from Broad Street Station</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_231">229</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">State House Yard</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_237">235</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Penitentiary</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_246">247</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">On the Reading, at Sixteenth Street</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_250">251</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Locust Street East from Broad Street</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_257">255</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Broad Street, Looking South from above Arch Street</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_260">261</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Clinton Street, with the Pennsylvania Hospital at its End</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_264">265</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Cherry Street Stairs Near the River</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_268">269</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Morris House on Eighth Street</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_272">273</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Old Coaching-Inn Yard</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_281">279</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Franklin's Grave</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_284">285</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Arch Street Meeting</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_290">291</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cliveden, the Chew House</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_294">295</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Bartram's</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_300">301</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Carpenter's Hall, Interior</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_304">305</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Main Street, Germantown</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_313">311</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Arch Street Meeting—Interior</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_319">317</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Front and Callowhill</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_320">321</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Elevated at Market Street Wharf</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_329">327</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Dr. Furness's House, West Washington Square, Just Before it was Pulled Down</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_332">333</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Germantown Academy</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_337">339</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The State House from Independence Square</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_344">345</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">"The Little Street of Clubs," Camac Street Above Spruce Street</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_348">349</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Down Sansom Street from Eighth Street. The Low Houses at Seventh Street Have Since Been Torn Down and the Western End of the Curtis Building Now Occupies Their Place</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_352">353</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Double Stairway in the Pennsylvania Hospital</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_357">359</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Carpenter's Hall, Built 1771</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_364">365</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Independence Hall—Lengthwise View</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_371">369</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Girard College</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_379">377</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Upsala, Germantown</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_385">383</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Hall at Cliveden, the Chew House</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_386">387</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Old <ins title="Transcriber's Note: 'Waterworks,' 'Water Works,' and 'Water-Works' were used in this text. This was retained.">Water-Works</ins>, Fairmount Park</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_390">391</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Stairway, State House</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_399">397</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Upper Room, Stenton</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_405">403</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Wyck—The Doorway from Within</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_408">409</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Philadelphia Dispensary from Independence Square</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_414">415</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Morris House, Germantown</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_421">419</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The State House Colonnade</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_427">425</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Smith Memorial, West Fairmount Park</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_430">431</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Basin, Old <ins title="Transcriber's Note: 'Waterworks,' 'Water Works,' and 'Water-Works' were used in this text. This was retained.">Water-Works</ins></span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_434">435</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Girard Street</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_439">441</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Union League, from Broad and Chestnut Streets</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_444">415</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Broad Street Station</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_452">453</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Wanamaker's</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_456">457</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">St. Peter's Churchyard</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_460">461</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">City Hall from the Schuylkill</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_467">465</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Chestnut Street Bridge</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_471">469</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Narrow Street</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_474">475</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Market Street Elevated at the Delaware End</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_481">479</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Railroad Bridges at Falls of Schuylkill</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_485">483</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Parkway Pergolas</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_486">487</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Market Street West of the Schuylkill</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_490">491</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Manheim Cricket Ground</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_499">497</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Dock Street And The Exchange</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_503">501</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Locomotive Yard, West Philadelphia</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_506">507</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Girard Trust Company</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_513">511</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Twelfth Street Meeting House</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_517">515</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Wyck</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_521">519</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Massed Sky-scrapers Above the Housetops</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_525">523</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Sunset. Philadelphia from Across the Delaware</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_529">527</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Union League Between the Sky-scrapers</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_533">531</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Up Broad Street from League Island</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_537">535</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">From Gray's Ferry</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_538">539</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<h1>OUR PHILADELPHIA</h1> + +<h2>CHAPTER I: AN EXPLANATION</h2> + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>I think I have a right to call myself a Philadelphian, +though I am not sure if Philadelphia is of the same +opinion. I was born in Philadelphia, as my Father +was before me, but my ancestors, having had the sense to +emigrate to America in time to make me as American as +an American can be, were then so inconsiderate as to +waste a couple of centuries in Virginia and Maryland, +and my Grandfather was the first of the family to settle +in a town where it is important, if you belong at all, to +have belonged from the beginning. However, J.'s ancestors, +with greater wisdom, became at the earliest available +moment not only Philadelphians, but Philadelphia +Friends, and how very much more that means Philadelphians +know without my telling them. And so, as he +does belong from the beginning and as I would have belonged +had I had my choice, for I would rather be a +Philadelphian than any other sort of American. I do not +see why I cannot call myself one despite the blunder of +my <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'forefathers' and 'fore-fathers' were used in this text. This was retained.">forefathers</ins> +in so long calling themselves something +else.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> + +<p>I might hope that my affection alone for Philadelphia +would give me the right, were I not Philadelphian enough +to know that Philadelphia is, as it always was and always +will be, cheerfully indifferent to whatever love its +citizens may have to offer it. I can hardly suppose my +claim for gratitude greater than that of its Founder or +the long succession of Philadelphians between his time +and mine who have loved it and been snubbed or bullied in +return. Indeed, in the face of this Philadelphia indifference, +my affection seems so superfluous that I often +wonder why it should be so strong. But wise or foolish, +there it is, strengthening with the years whether I will or +no,—a deeper rooted sentiment than I thought I was +capable of for the town with which the happiest memories +of my childhood are associated, where the first irresponsible +days of my youth were spent, which never +ceased to be home to me during the more than a quarter +of a century I lived away from it.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 308px;"> +<img src="images/gs002.jpg" width="308" height="400" alt="DELANCEY PLACE" title="" /> +<span class="caption"><ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'Delancey' and 'De Lancey' were used in this text. This was retained.">DELANCEY</ins> PLACE</span> +</div> + +<p>Besides, Philadelphia attracts me apart from what it +may stand for in memory or from the charm sentiment +may lend to it. I love its beauty—the beauty of tranquil +streets, of red brick houses with white marble steps, of +pleasant green shade, of that peaceful look of the past +Philadelphians cross the ocean to rave over in the little +old dead towns of England and Holland—a beauty that +is now fast disappearing. I love its character—the calm, +the dignity, the reticence with which it has kept up through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +the centuries with the American pace, the airs of a demure +country village with which it has done the work and +earned the money of a big bustling town, the cloistered +seclusion with which it enjoys its luxury and hides its +palaces behind its plain brick fronts—a character that also +is fast going. I love its history, though I am no historian, +for the little I know colours its beauty and accounts for +its character.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>It is not for nothing that I begin with this flourish +of my birth certificate and public confession of love. I +want to establish my right, first, to call myself a Philadelphian, +and then, to talk about Philadelphia as freely +as we only can talk about the places and the people and +the things we belong to and care for. I would not dare to +take such a liberty with Philadelphia if my references +were not in order, for, as a Philadelphian, I appreciate the +risk. Not that I have any idea of writing the history of +Philadelphia. I hope I have the horror, said to be peculiar +to all generous minds, of what are commonly called +facts, and also the intelligence not to attempt what I know +I cannot do. Another good reason is that the history has +already been written more than once. Philadelphians, +almost from their cave-dwelling period, have seemed conscious +of the eye of posterity upon them. They had +hardly landed on the banks of the Delaware before they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +began to write alarmingly long letters which they preserved, +and elaborate diaries which they kept with equal +care. And the letter-writing, diary-keeping fever was so +in the air that strangers in the town caught it: from +Richard Castleman to John Adams, from John Adams to +Charles Dickens, from Charles Dickens to Henry James, +every visitor, with writing for profession or amusement, +has had more or less to say about it—usually more. +The Historical Society of Pennsylvania has gathered the +old material together; our indispensable antiquary, John +Watson, has gleaned the odds and ends left by the way; +and no end of modern writers in Philadelphia have ransacked +their stores of information: Dr. Weir Mitchell +making novels out of them, Mr. Sydney Fisher and Miss +Agnes Repplier, history; Mr. Hampton Carson using +them as the basis of further research; Miss Anne Hollingsworth +Wharton resurrecting Colonial life and society and +fashions from them, Mr. Eberlein and Mr. Lippincott, the +genealogy of Colonial houses; other patriotic citizens helping +themselves in one way or another; until, among them +all, they have filled a large library and prepared a sufficiently +formidable task for the historian of Philadelphia in +generations to come without my adding to his burden.</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>It is an amusing library, as Philadelphians may believe +now they are getting over the bad habit into which +they had fallen of belittling their town, much in their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +town's fashion of belittling them. I am afraid it was +partly their fault if the rest of America fell into the same +habit. As I recall my old feelings and attitude, it seems +to me that in my day we must have been brought up to +look down upon Philadelphia. The town surely cut a +poor figure in my school books, and the purplest patches +in Colonial history must have been there reserved for +New England or New York, Virginia or the Carolinas, +for any and every colony rather than the Province of +Pennsylvania, or I would not have left school better +posted in the legends of Powhatan and Pocahontas than +in the life of William Penn, and more edified by the burning +of witches and the tracking of Indians than by the +struggles of Friends to give every man the liberty to go +to Heaven his own way. The amiable contempt in which +Philadelphians held William Penn revealed itself in their +free-and-easy way of speaking of him, if they spoke of +him at all, as Billy Penn, though Penn would have been +the last to invite the familiarity. Probably few outside the +Society of Friends could have said just what he had done +for their town, or just what they owed to him. If I am +not mistaken, the prevailing idea was that his chief greatness +consisted in the cleverness with which he fooled the +land out of the Indians for a handful of beads.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 304px;"> +<img src="images/gs003.jpg" width="304" height="400" alt=""PORTICO ROW" SPRUCE STREET" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"PORTICO ROW" SPRUCE STREET</span> +</div> + +<p>The present generation could not be so ignorant if it +wanted to. The statue of Penn, in full-skirted coat and +broad-brimmed hat, dominating Philadelphia from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +ugly tower of the Public Buildings, though it may not be +a thing of beauty, at least suggests to Philadelphians that +it would not have been put up there, the most conspicuous +landmark from the streets and the surrounding country, +if Penn had not been somebody, or done something, of +some consequence. As for the rest of America, I doubt +if it often comes so near to Philadelphia that it can see +the statue. The last time I went to New York from London +I met on the steamer a man from Michigan who had +obviously been but a short time before a man from Cork, +and who was so keen to stop in Philadelphia on his way +West that I might have been astonished had I not heard +so much of the miraculously rapid Americanization of the +modern emigrant. Most people do not want to stop in +Philadelphia unless they have business there, and he had +none, and naturally I could not imagine any other motive +except the desire to see the town which is of the greatest +historic importance in the United States and which still +possesses proofs of it. But the man from Michigan gave +me to understand, and pretty quick too, that he did not +know Philadelphia had a history and old buildings to +prove it, and what was more, he did not care if it had. He +guessed history wasn't in his line. What he wanted was +to take the next train to Atlantic City; folks he knew had +been there and said it was great. And I rather think this +is the way most Americans, from America or from Cork, +feel about Philadelphia.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>It is not my affair to enlighten them or anybody else. +I have a more personal object in view. Philadelphia may +mean to other people nothing at all—that is their loss; +I am concerned entirely with what it means to me. In +those wonderful Eighteen-Nineties, now written about +with awe by the younger generation as if no less prehistoric +than the period of the Renaissance, until it makes +me feel a new Methusaleh to own that I lived and worked +through them, we were always being told that art should +be the artist's record of nature seen through a temperament, +criticism the critic's story of his adventures among +the world's masterpieces, and though I am neither artist +nor critic, though I am not sure what a temperament is, +much less if I have one, still I fancy this expresses in a +way the end I have set myself in writing about Philadelphia. +For I should like, if I can, to record my personal +impressions of the town I love and to give my adventures +among the beautiful things, the humorous things, the +tragic things it contains in more than ample measure. My +interest is in my personal experiences, but these have been +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'colored' and 'coloured' were used in this text. This was retained.">coloured</ins> +by the history of Philadelphia since I have +dabbled in it, and have become richer and more amusing. +I have <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins>, +with age and reading and travelling, that +Philadelphia as it is cannot really be known without some +knowledge of Philadelphia as it was: also that Philadelphia, +both as it is and as it was, is worth knowing. Americans +will wander to the ends of the earth to study the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +psychology—as they call it of people they never could +understand however hard they tried; they will shut themselves +up in a remote town of Italy or Spain to master the +secrets of its prehistoric past; they will squander months +in the Bibliothèque Nationale or the British Museum to +get at the true atmosphere of Paris or London; when, had +they only stopped their journey at Broad Street Station +in Philadelphia or, if they were Philadelphians, never +taken the train out of it, they could have had all the psychology +and secrets and atmosphere they could ask for, +with much less trouble and expense.</p> + +<p>I have never been to any town anywhere, and I have +been to many in my time, that has more decided character +than Philadelphia, or to any where this character is more +difficult to understand if the clue is not got from the past. +For instance, people talk about Philadelphia as if its one +talent was for sleep, while the truth is, taking the sum of +its achievements, no other American town has done so +much hard work, no other has accomplished so much for +the country. Impressed as we are by the fact, it would be +impossible to account for the reputation if it were not +known that the people who made Philadelphia presented +the same puzzling contradiction in their own lives—the +only people who ever understood how to be in the world +and not of it.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs004.jpg" width="400" height="314" alt="ARCH STREET MEETING HOUSE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ARCH STREET MEETING HOUSE</span> +</div> + +<p>The usual alternative to not being of the world is to be +in a cloister or to live like a hermit, to accept a +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'role' and 'rôle' were used in this text. This was retained.">role</ins> in +common or to renounce social intercourse. But the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +Friends did not have to shut themselves up to conquer +worldliness, they did not have to renounce the world's work +and its rewards. For "affluence of the world's goods," +Isaac Norris, writing from Philadelphia, could felicitate +Jonathan Dickinson, "knowing both thyself and dear +wife have hearts and souls fit to use them." That was +better than shirking temptation in a monk's cell or a +philosopher's tub. If George Fox wore a leather suit, it +was because he found it convenient, but William Penn, for +whom it would have been highly inconvenient, had no +scruple in dressing like other men of his position and +wearing the blue ribbon of office. Nor because religion +was freed from all unessential ornament, was the house +stripped of comfort and luxury. I write about Friends +with hesitation. I have been married to one now for many +years and can +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realize</ins> +the better therefore that none save +Friends can write of themselves with authority. But I +hope I am right in thinking, as I always have thought +since I read Thomas Elwood's <i>Memoirs</i>, that their attitude +is excellently explained in his account of his first +visit to the Penningtons "after they were become +Quakers" when, though he was astonished at the new +gravity of their look and behaviour, he found Guli Springett +amusing herself in the garden and the dinner "handsome." +For the world's goods never being the end they +were to the World's People, Friends were as undisturbed +by their possession as by their absence and, as a consequence, +could meet and accept life, whether its gifts were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +wealth and power or poverty and obscurity, with the +serenity few other men have found outside the cloister. +Moreover, they could speak the truth, calling a spade a +spade, or their enemy the scabbed sheep, or smooth silly +man, or vile fellow, or inhuman monster, or villain infecting +the air with a hellish stench, he no doubt was, and +never for a moment lose their tempers. This serenity—this +"still strength"—is as the poles apart from the +phlegmatic, constitutional slowness of the Dutch in New +York or, on the other hand, from the tranquillity Henry +James traces in progressive descent from taste, tradition, +and history, even from the philosopher's calm of achieved +indifference, and Friends, having carried it to perfection +in their own conduct, left it as a legacy to their town.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs005.jpg" width="400" height="308" alt="THE SCHUYLKILL SOUTH FROM CALLOWHILL STREET" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE SCHUYLKILL SOUTH FROM CALLOWHILL STREET</span> +</div> + +<p>The usual American town, when it hustles, lets nobody +overlook the fact that it is hustling. But Philadelphia +has done its work as calmly as the Friends have done theirs, +never boasting of its prosperity, never shouting its success +and riches from the house-top, and its dignified serenity +has been mistaken for sleep. Whistler used to say that if +the General does not tell the world he has won the battle, +the world will never hear of it. The trouble with Philadelphia +is that it has kept its triumph to itself. But we +have got so far from the old Friends that no harm can be +done if Philadelphians begin to interpret their town's +serenity to a world capable of confusing it with drowsiness. +If America is ready to forget, if for long Philadelphians +were as ready, it is high time we should remember<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +ourselves and remind America of the services Philadelphia +has rendered to the country, and its good taste in +rendering them with so little fuss that all the country has +done in return is to laugh at Philadelphia as a back +number.</p> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<p>Philadelphians have grown accustomed to the laugh. +We have heard it since we were in our cradles. We are +used to have other Americans come to our town and,—in +the face of our factory chimneys smoking along the +Schuylkill and our ship-building yards in full swing on +the Delaware, and our locomotives pouring out over the +world by I do not know how many thousands from the +works in Broad Street, and our mills going at full pressure +in the "Little England" of Kensington, in Frankford and +Germantown,—in the face of our busy schools and hospitals +and academies,—in the face of our stores and banks +and charities,—that is, in the face of our industry, our +learning, and our philanthropy that have given tips to the +whole country,—see only our sleep-laden eyes and hear +only our sluggish snores. We know the foolish stories +they tell. We have heard many more times than we can +count of the Bostonian who retires to Philadelphia for +complete intellectual rest, and the New Yorker who when +he has a day off comes to spend a week in Philadelphia, +and the Philadelphian who goes to New York to eat the +snails he cannot catch in his own back-yard. We have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +heard until we have it by heart that Philadelphia is a +cemetery, and the road to it, the Road to Yesterday. We +are so familiar with the venerable <i>cliché</i> that we can but +wonder at its gift of eternal youth. Never was there a +jest that wore so well with those who make it. The comic +column is rarely complete without it, and it is forever +cropping up where least expected. In the last American +novel I opened Philadelphia was described as hanging on +to the last strap of the last car to the sound of Gabriel's +horn on Judgment Day; in the last American magazine +story I read the Philadelphia heroine by her Philadelphia +calm conquered the cowboys of the west, as Friends of +old disarmed their judges in court. In the general Americanization +of London, even the London papers have seized +upon the slowness of Philadelphia as a joke for Londoners +to roar at. Li Hung Chang couldn't visit Philadelphia +without dozing through the ceremonies in his honour and +noting the appropriateness of it in his diary. And so it +goes on, the witticism to-day apparently as fresh as it was +in the Stone Age from which it has come down to us.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs006.jpg" width="400" height="309" alt="FRIENDS' GRAVEYARD, GERMANTOWN" title="" /> +<span class="caption">FRIENDS' GRAVEYARD, GERMANTOWN</span> +</div> + +<p>If Philadelphians laugh, that is another matter—every +man has the right to laugh at himself. But we have +outlived our old affectation of indifference to our town, +I am not sure that we are not pushing our profession of +pride in it too far to the other extreme. I remember the +last time I was home I went to a public meeting called to +talk about the world's waterways, and no Philadelphian +present, from the Mayor down, could talk of anything<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +but Philadelphia and its greatness. But whatever may be +our pose now, or next year, or the year after, there is +always beneath it a substantial layer of affection, for we +cannot help knowing, if nobody else does, what Philadelphia +is and what Philadelphia has done. Certainly, it is because +I know that I, for one, would so much rather be the +Philadelphian I am, and my ancestors were not, than any +other sort of American, that, as I have grown older, my +love for my town has surprised me by its depth, and makes +my confession of it now seem half pleasure, half duty.</p> + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II: A CHILD IN PHILADELPHIA</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>If I made my first friendships from my perambulator, +or trundling my hoop and skipping my rope, in +Rittenhouse Square, as every Philadelphian should, +they were interrupted and broken so soon that I have no +memory of them.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 310px;"> +<img src="images/gs007.jpg" width="310" height="400" alt="IN RITTENHOUSE SQUARE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">IN RITTENHOUSE SQUARE</span> +</div> + +<p>It was my fate to be sent to boarding-school before I +had time to lay in a store of the associations that are the +common property of happier Philadelphians of my generation. +I do not know if I was ever taken, as J. and other +privileged children were, to the Pennsylvania Hospital +on summer evenings to see William Penn step down from +his pedestal when he heard the clock strike six, or to the +Philadelphia Library to wait until Benjamin Franklin, +hearing the same summons, left his high niche for a neighbouring +saloon. I cannot recall the firemen's fights and +the cries of negroes selling pop-corn and ice-cream through +the streets that fill some Philadelphia reminiscences I have +read. I cannot say if I ever went anywhere by the +omnibus sleigh in winter, or to West Philadelphia by the +stage at any time of the year. I never coasted down the +hills of Germantown, I never skated on the Schuylkill. +When my contemporaries compare notes of these and +many more delightful things in the amazing, romantic,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +incredible Philadelphia they grew up in, it annoys me +to find myself out of it all, sharing none of their recollections, +save one and that the most trivial. For, from the +vagueness of the remote past, no event emerges so clearly +as the periodical visit of "Crazy Norah," a poor, harmless, +half-witted wanderer, who wore a man's hat and top +boots, with bits of ribbon scattered over her dress, and +who, on her aimless rounds, drifted into all the Philadelphia +kitchens to the fearful joy of the children; and my +memory may be less of her personally than of much talk +of her helped by her resemblance, or so I fancied, to a +picture of Meg Merrilies in a collection of engravings +of Walter Scott's heroines owned by an Uncle, and almost +the first book I can remember.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>But great as was my loss, I fancy my memories of old +Philadelphia gain in vividness for being so few. One of +the most vivid is of the interminable drive in the slow +horse-car which was the longest part of the journey to +and from my Convent school,—which is the longest part of +any journey I ever made, not to be endured at the time +but for the chanting over and over to myself of all the +odds and ends of verse I had got by heart, from the dramas +of <i>Little Miss Muffett</i> and <i>Little Jack Horner</i> to Poe's +<i>Bells</i> and Tennyson's <i>Lady of Shalott</i>—but in memory a +drive to be rejoiced in, for nothing could have been more +characteristic of Philadelphia as it was then. The Convent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +was in Torresdale on the Pennsylvania Railroad, and +the Pennsylvania Depot—Philadelphia had as yet no +Stations and Terminals—was in the distant, unknown +quarter of Frankford. I believe it is used as a freight +station now and I have sometimes thought that, for sentiment's +sake, I should like to make a pilgrimage to it over +the once well-travelled road. But the modern trolley has +deserted the straight course of the unadventurous horse-car +of my day and I doubt if ever again I could find my +way back. The old horse-car went, without turn or twist, +along Third Street. I started from the corner of Spruce, +having got as far as that by the slower, more infrequent +Spruce Street car, and after I had passed the fine old +houses where Philadelphians—not aliens—lived, a good +part of the route lay through a busy business section. But +there has stayed with me as my chief impression of the +endless street a sense of eternal calm. No matter how +much solid work was being done, no matter how many +fortunes were being made and unmade, it was always +placid on the surface, uneventful and unruffled. The car, +jingling along in leisurely fashion, was the one sign of +animation.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 311px;"> +<img src="images/gs008.jpg" width="311" height="400" alt="THE PENNSYLVANIA HOSPITAL FROM THE GROUNDS" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE PENNSYLVANIA HOSPITAL FROM THE GROUNDS</span> +</div> + +<p>Or often, in spring and summer, I went by boat, from—so +false is memory—I cannot say what wharf, up the +Delaware. This was a pleasanter journey and every bit +as leisurely and as characteristic in its way of Philadelphia +life. For though I might catch the early afternoon +boat, it was sure to be full of business men returning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +from their offices to their houses on the river. Philadelphians +did not wait for the Main Line to be invented to +settle in the suburbs. They have always had a fancy for +the near country ever since Penn lived in state at Pennsbury, +and Logan at Stenton; ever since Bartram planted +his garden on the banks of the Schuylkill, and Arnold +brought Peggy Shippen as his bride to Mount Pleasant; +ever since all the Colonial country houses we are so proud +of were built. I have the haziest memory of the places +where the boat stopped between Philadelphia and Torresdale +and of the people who got out there. But I cannot +help remembering Torresdale for it was as prominent a +stopping-place in my journey through youth as it is in the +journey up the Delaware. The Convent was my home +for years, and I had many friends in the houses down by +the riverside and scattered over the near country. Their +names are among the most familiar in my youthful recollections: +the Macalisters, the Grants—one of my brothers +named after the father—the Hopkins—another of my +brothers marrying in the family—the Fishers, Keatings, +Steadmans, Kings, Bories, Whelans. It was not often I +could go or come without meeting somebody I knew on +board. I am a cockney myself, I love the town, but I can +understand that Philadelphians whose homes were in the +country, especially if that country lay along the shores +of the Delaware, liked to get back early enough to profit +by it; that, busy and full of affairs as they might be, they +not only liked but managed to, shows how far hustling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +was from the old Philadelphia scheme of things. +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'nowadays' and 'now-a-days' were used in this text. This was retained.">Nowadays</ins> +the motor brings the country into town and town into +the country. But the miles between town and country +were then lengthened into leagues by the leisurely boat and +the leisurely horse-car which, as I look back, seem to set the +pace of life in Philadelphia when I was young.</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>At first my holidays were spent mostly at the Convent. +My Father, with the young widower's embarrassment +when confronted by his motherless children, solved the +problem the existence of my Sister and myself was to him +by putting us where he knew we were safe and well out of +his way. I do not blame him. What is a man to do when +he finds himself with two little girls on his clumsy masculine +hands? But the result was he had no house of his +own to bring us to when the other girls hurried joyfully +home at Christmas and Easter and for the long summer +holiday. It hurt as I used to watch them walking briskly +down the long path on the way to the station. And yet, +I scored in the end, for Philadelphia was the more marvellous +to me, visiting it rarely, than it could have been to +children to whom it was an +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'everyday' and 'every-day' were used in this text. This was retained.">everyday</ins> affair.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 308px;"> +<img src="images/gs009.jpg" width="308" height="400" alt=""ELEVENTH AND SPRUCE"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"ELEVENTH AND SPRUCE"</span> +</div> + +<p>For years my Grandfather's house was the scene of +the occasional visit. He lived in Spruce Street above +Eleventh—the typical Philadelphia Street, straight and +narrow, on either side rows of red brick houses, each with +white marble steps, white shutters below and green<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +shutters above, and along the red brick pavement rows of +trees which made Philadelphia the green country town +of Penn's desire, but the Philadelphian's life a burden in +the springtime before the coming of the sparrows. Philadelphia, +as I think of it in the old days at the season when +the leaves were growing green, is always heavy with the +odour of the evil-smelling +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'ailantus' and 'ailanthus' were used in this text. This was retained.">ailantus</ins> +and full of measuring +worms falling upon me from every tree. My fear of +"Crazy Norah" is hardly less clear in my early memories +than the terror these worms were to the dear fragile little +Aunt who had cared for me in my first motherless years, +and who still, during my holidays, kept a watchful eye on +me to see that I put my "gums" on if I went out in the +rain and that I had the money in my pocket to stop at +Dexter's for a plate of ice-cream. I can recall as if it +were yesterday, her shrieks one Easter Sunday when she +came home from church and found a green horror on her +new spring bonnet and another on her petticoat, and her +miserable certainty all through the early Sunday dinner +that many more were crawling over her somewhere. But, +indeed, the Philadelphians of to-day can never know from +what loathsome creatures the sparrows have delivered +them.</p> + +<p>My Grandfather's house was as typical as the street—one +of the quite modest four-story brick houses that were +thought unseemly sky-scrapers and fire-traps when they +were first built in Philadelphia. I can never go by the old +house of many memories—for sale, alas! the last time I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +passed and still for sale according to the last news to +reach me even as I correct my proofs—without seeing +myself as I used to be, arriving from the Convent, small, +plain, unbecomingly dressed and conscious of it, with my +pretty, always-becomingly-dressed because nothing was +unbecoming to her, not-in-the-least-shy Sister, both standing +in the vestibule between the inevitable Philadelphia +two front doors, the outer one as inevitably open all day +long. And I see myself, when, in answer to our ring, the +servant had opened the inner one as well, entering in a +fresh access of shyness the wide lofty hall, with the front +and back parlours to the right; Philadelphians had no +drawing-rooms then but were content with parlours, as +Penn had been who knew them by no other name. Compared +to the rich Philadelphian's house to-day, my Grandfather's +looks very unpretending, but when houses like it, +with two big parlours separated by folding doors, first +became the fashion in Philadelphia, they passed for palaces +with Philadelphians who disapproved of display, and +the "tradesmen" living soberly in them were rebuked for +aspiring to the luxury of princes. I cannot imagine why, +for the old Colonial houses are, many of them, as lofty +and more spacious, though it was the simple spaciousness +of my Grandfather's and the loftiness of its ceilings that +gave it charm.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs010.jpg" width="400" height="315" alt="DRAWING ROOM AT CLIVEDEN" title="" /> +<span class="caption">DRAWING ROOM AT CLIVEDEN</span> +</div> + +<p>My Grandfather's two parlours, big as they were, +would strike nobody to-day as palatial. It needs the +glamour time throws over them for me to discover princely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +luxury in the rosewood and reps masterpieces of a deplorable +period with which they were furnished, or in +their decoration of beaded cushions and worsted-work +mats and tidies, the lavish gifts of a devoted family. But +I cannot remember the parlours and forget the respect +with which they once inspired me. I own to a lingering +affection for their crowning touch of ugliness, an ottoman +with a top of the fashionable Berlin work of the day—a +white arum lily, done by the superior talent of the fancy +store, on a red ground filled in by the industrious giver. +It stood between the two front windows, so that we might +have the additional rapture of seeing it a second time in the +mirror which hung behind it. Opposite, between the two +windows of the back parlour, was a "Rogers Group" on +a blue stand; and a replica, with variations, of both the +ottoman and the "Rogers Group" could have been found +in every other Philadelphia front and back parlour. I +recall also the three or four family portraits which I held +in tremendous awe, however I may feel about them now; +and the immensely high vases, unique creations that could +not possibly have been designed for any purpose save to +ornament the Philadelphia mantelpiece; and the transparent +lamp-shade, decorated with pictures of cats and +children and landscapes, that at night, when the gas was +lit, helped to keep me awake until I could escape to bed; +and the lustre chandeliers hanging from the ceiling—what +joy when one of the long prisms came loose and I could +capture it and, looking through it, walk across the parlours<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +and up the stairs straight into the splendid dangers of +Rainbow Land!</p> + +<p>I had no time for these +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'splendor' and 'splendour' were used in this text. This was retained.">splendours</ins> +on my arrival, nor, +fortunately for me, was I left long to the tortures of my +shyness. At the end of the hall, facing me, was the wide +flight of stairs leading to the upper stories, and on the first +landing, at their turning just where a few more steps +led beyond into the back-building dining-room, my Grandmother, +in her white cap and purple ribbons, stood waiting. +In my memory she and that landing are inseparable. +Whenever the door bell rang, she was out there at the first +sound, ready to say "Come right up, my dear!" to whichever +one of her innumerable progeny it might he. To her +right, filling an ample space in the windings of the back +stairs, was the inexhaustible pantry which I knew, as well +as she, we should presently visit together. Though there +could not have been in Philadelphia or anywhere quite +such another Grandmother, even if most Philadelphians +feel precisely the same way about theirs, she was typical +too, like the house and the street. She belonged to the +generation of Philadelphia women who took to old age +almost as soon as they were mothers, put on caps and large +easy shoes, invented an elderly dress from which they +never deviated for the rest of their lives, except to exchange +cashmere for silk, the +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'everyday' and 'every-day' were used in this text. This was retained.">everyday</ins> +cap for one of +fine lace and wider ribbons, on occasions of ceremony, and +who as promptly forgot the world outside of their household<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +and their family. I do not believe my Grandmother +had an interest in anybody except her children, or in anything +except their affairs; though this did not mean that +she gave up society when it was to their advantage that she +should not. In her stiff silks and costly caps, she presided +at every dinner, reception, and party given at home, +as conscientiously as, in her sables and demure velvet +bonnet, she made and returned calls in the season.</p> + +<p>My other memories are of comfortable, spacious rooms, +good, solid, old-fashioned furniture, a few more old and +some better-forgotten new family portraits on the walls, +the engraving of Gilbert Stuart's Washington over the +dining-room mantelpiece, the sofa or couch in almost every +room for the Philadelphia nap before dinner, the two +cheerful kitchens where, if the servants were amiable, I +sometimes played, and, above all, the most enchanting +back-yard that ever was or could be—we were not so +elegant in those days as to call it a garden.</p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>Since it has been the fashion to revive everything old +in Philadelphia, most Philadelphians are not happy until +they have their garden, as their +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'forefathers' and 'fore-fathers' were used in this text. This was retained.">forefathers</ins> +had, and very +charming they often make it in the suburbs. But in town +my admiration has been asked for gardens that would have +been lost in my Grandfather's back-yard, and for a few +meagre plants springing up about a cold paved square<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +that would have been condemned as weeds in his luxuriant +flower beds.</p> + +<p>The kindly magnifying glasses of memory cannot convert +the Spruce Street yard into a rival of Edward Shippen's +garden in Second Street where the old chronicles say +there were orchards and a herd of deer, or of Bartram's +with its trees and plants collected from far and wide, or +of any of the old Philadelphia gardens in the days when +in Philadelphia no house, no public building, almost no +church, could exist without a green space and great trees +and many flowers about it, and when Philadelphians loved +their gardens so well, and hated so to leave them, that there +is the story of one at least who came back after death to +haunt the shady walks and fragrant lawns that were fairer +to her than the fairest Elysian Fields in the land beyond +the grave. Much of the old beauty had gone before I was +born, much was going as I grew from childhood to youth. +My Uncle, Charles Godfrey Leland, has described the +Philadelphia garden of his early years, "with vines twined +over arbours, where the magnolia, honeysuckle and rose +spread rich perfume of summer nights, and where the +humming bird rested, and scarlet tanager, or oriole, with +the yellow and blue bird flitted in sunshine or in shade." +Though I go back to days before the sparrows had driven +away not only the worms but all others of their own race, +I recall no orioles and scarlet tanagers, no yellow and +blue birds. Philadelphia's one magnolia tree stood in +front of the old Dundas house at Broad and Walnut.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<p>All the same, my Grandfather's was a back-yard of +enchantment. A narrow brick-paved path led past the +kitchens; on one side, close to the wall dividing my Grandfather's +yard from the next door neighbour's, was a border +of roses and Johnny-jump-ups and shrubs—the shrubs +my Grandmother used to pick for me, crush a little in her +fingers, and tie up in a corner of my handkerchief, which +was the Philadelphia way—the most effective way that +ever was—to make them give out their sweetness. Beyond +the kitchens, where the yard broadened into a large +open space, the path enclosed, with a wider border of +roses, two big grass plots which were shaded by fruit +trees, all pink and white in the springtime. Wistaria +hung in purple showers over the high walls. I am sure +lilacs bloomed at the kitchen door, and a vine of Isabella +grapes—the very name has an old Philadelphia flavour +and fragrance—covered the verandah that ran across the +entire second story of the back-building. If sometimes +this delectable back-yard was cold and bare, in my +memory it is more apt to be sweet and gay with roses, +shrubs and Johnny-jump-ups,—summer and its pleasures +oftener waiting on me there: probably because my visits +to my Grandfather's were more frequent in the summer +time. But I have vague memories of winter days, when +the rose bushes were done up in straw, and wooden steps +covered the marble in front, and ashes were strewn over +the icy pavement, and snow was piled waist-high in the +gutter.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<p>From the verandah there was a pleasant vista, up and +down, of the same back-yards and the same back buildings, +just as from the front windows there was a pleasant vista, +up and down, of the same red-brick fronts, the same white +marble steps, the same white and green shutters,—only +one house daring upon originality, and this was Bennett's, +the ready-made clothes man, whose unusually large garden +filled the opposite corner of Eleventh and Spruce with +big country-like trees over to which I looked from my +bedroom window. As a child, instinctively I got to know +that inside every house, within sight and beyond, I would +find the same front and back parlours, the same back-building +dining-room, the same number of bedrooms, the +same engraving of George Washington over the dining-room +mantelpiece, the same big red cedar chest in the +third story hall and, in summer, the same parlours turned +into cool grey cellars with the same matting on the floor, +the same linen covers on the chairs, the same curtainless +windows and carefully closed shutters, the same white +gauze over mirrors and chandeliers—to light upon an item +for gauze "to cover pictures and glass" in Washington's +household accounts while he lived in Philadelphia is one +of the things it is worth searching the old archives for.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 312px;"> +<img src="images/gs011.jpg" width="312" height="400" alt="BACK-YARDS, ST. PETER'S SPIRE IN THE DISTANCE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">BACK-YARDS, ST. PETER'S SPIRE IN THE DISTANCE</span> +</div> + +<p>Instinctively, I got to know too that, in every one of +these well-regulated interiors where there was a little girl, +she must, like me, be striving to be neither seen nor heard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +all the long morning, and sitting primly at the front window +all the long afternoon, and that, if she ever played at +home it was, like me, with measured steps and modulated +voice: at all times cultivating the calm of manner expected +of her when she, in her turn, would have just such a +red brick house and just such a delectable back-yard of +her own. Thus, while the long months at the Convent +kept me busy cultivating every spiritual grace, during the +occasional holiday at Eleventh and Spruce I was well +drilled in the Philadelphia virtues.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III: A CHILD IN PHILADELPHIA—CONTINUED</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>Naturally, I could not live in Spruce Street +and not believe, as every Philadelphian should +and once did, that no other kind of a house except +the Spruce Street house was fit for a Philadelphian to +live in. The Philadelphian, from infancy, was convinced +by his surroundings and bringing-up that there was but +one way of doing things decently and respectably and that +was the Philadelphia way, nor can my prolonged exile +relieve me from the sense of crime at times when I catch +myself doing things not just as Philadelphians used to +do them.</p> + +<p>I was safe from any such crime in my Grandfather's +house. All Philadelphia might have been let in without +fear. Had skeletons been concealed in the capacious cupboards, +they would have been of the approved Philadelphia +pattern. My Grandfather was not at all of Montaigne's +opinion that order in the management of life is sottish, +but looked upon it rather as "Heaven's first law." His +day's programme was the same as in every red brick house +with white marble steps and a back-yard full of roses and +shrubs and Johnny-jump-ups. Everything at Eleventh +and Spruce was done according to the same Philadelphia<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +rules at the same hour, from the washing of the family linen +on Monday, when Sunday's beef was eaten cold for dinner, +to the washing of the front on Saturday morning, when +Philadelphia streets from end to end were all mops and +maids, rivers and lakes.</p> + +<p>When my Grandfather, with his family on their knees +around him, began the day by reading morning prayers +in the back-building dining-room, he could have had the +satisfaction of knowing that every other Philadelphia +head of a family was engaged in the same edifying duty, +but I hope, for every other Philadelphia family's sake, +with a trifle less awe-inspiring solemnity. After being +present once at my Grandfather's prayers, nobody needed +to be assured that life was earnest.</p> + +<p>He did not shed his solemnity when he rose from his +knees, nor when he had finished his breakfast of scrapple +and buckwheat cakes and left the breakfast table. He +was as solemn in his progress through the streets to the +Philadelphia Bank, at Fourth and Chestnut, of which +he was President, and having said so much perhaps I +might as well add his name, Thomas Robins, for in his +day he was widely known and it is a satisfaction to remember, +as widely appreciated both in and out of Philadelphia. +His clothes were always of the most admirable cut and +fit and of a fashion becoming to his years, he carried a substantial +cane with a gold top, his stock was never laid aside +for a frivolous modern cravat, his silk hat was as indispensable, +and his slow walk had a dignity royalty might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +have envied. He was a handsome old man and a noticeable +figure even in Philadelphia streets at the hour when +John Welsh from the corner, and Biddles and Cadwalladers +and Whartons and Peppers and Lewises and a +host of other handsome old Philadelphians with good +Philadelphia names from the near +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'neighborhood' and 'neighbourhood' were used in this text. This was retained.">neighborhood</ins>, were +starting downtown in clothes as irreproachable and with a +gait no less dignified. The foreigner's idea of the American +is of a slouchy, free-and-easy man for ever cracking +jokes. But slouchiness and jokes had no place in the +dictionary or the deportment of my Grandfather and his +contemporaries, at a period when Philadelphia supplied +men like John Welsh for its country to send as representatives +abroad and there carry on the traditions of Franklin +and John Adams and Jefferson. My Father—Edward +Robins—inherited more than his share of this old-fashioned +Philadelphia manner, making a ceremony of the morning +walk to his office and the Sunday walk to church. But it +has been lost by younger generations, more's the pity. In +memory I would not have my Grandfather a shade less +solemn, though at the time his solemnity put me on anything +but easy terms with him.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>The respectful bang of the front door upon my Grandfather's +dignified back after breakfast was the signal for +the family to relax. The cloth was at once cleared, my +Grandmother and my Aunts—like all Philadelphia<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +mothers and daughters—brought their work-baskets into +the dining-room and sat and gossiped there until it was +time for my Grandmother to go and see the butcher and +the provision dealer, or for my Aunts to make those +formal calls for which the morning then was the unpardonable +hour.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 308px;"> +<img src="images/gs012.jpg" width="308" height="400" alt="INDEPENDENCE SQUARE AND THE STATE HOUSE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">INDEPENDENCE SQUARE AND THE STATE HOUSE</span> +</div> + +<p>It seems to me, in looking back, as if my Grandmother +could never have gone out of the house except on +an errand to the provision man, such an important part +did it play in her daily round of duties. She never went +to market. That was not the Philadelphia woman's business, +it was the Philadelphia man's. My Grandfather, at +the time of which I write, must have grown too old for the +task, which was no light one, for it meant getting up at +unholy hours every Wednesday and every Saturday, leaving +the rest of the family in their comfortable beds, and +being back again in time for prayers and eight o'clock +breakfast. I cannot say how this division of daily labour +was brought about. The century before, a short time as +things go in Philadelphia, it was the other way round and +the young Philadelphia woman at her marketing was one +of the sights strangers in the town were taken to see. But +in my time it was so much the man's right that as a child +I believed there was something essentially masculine in +going to market, just as there was in making the mayonnaise +for the salad at dinner. A Philadelphia man valued +his salad too highly to trust its preparation to a woman. +It was almost a shock to me when my Father allowed my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +motherly little Aunt to relieve him of the responsibility in +the Spruce Street house. And later on, when he re-married +and again lived in a house of his own, and my Step-Mother +made a mayonnaise quite equal to his or to any +mere man's, not even to her would he shift the early marketing,—his +presence in the Twelfth Street Market as essential +on Wednesday and Saturday mornings as in the Stock +Exchange every day—and his conscientiousness was the +more astonishing as his genius was by no means for +domesticity. Philadelphia women respected man's duties +and rights in domestic, as in all, matters. I remember +an elderly Philadelphian, who was stopping at Blossom's +Hotel in Chester, where all Americans thirty years +ago began their English tour, telling me the many sauces +on the side table had looked so good she would have liked +to try them and, on my asking her why in the world she +had not, saying they had not been offered to her and she +thought perhaps they were for the gentlemen. Only a +Philadelphian among Americans could have given that +answer.</p> + +<p>Towards three o'clock in the Spruce Street house, my +Grandmother would be found, her cap carefully removed, +stretched full-length upon the sofa in the dining-room. +The picture would not be complete if I left out my +Father's rage because the dining-room was used for her +before-dinner nap as for almost every purpose of domestic +life by the women of the family. I have often wondered +where he got such an un-Philadelphia idea. In every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +house where there was a Grandmother, she was taking her +nap at the same hour on the same sofa in the same dining-room. +I could never see the harm. It was the most comfortable +room in the house, without the isolation of the bedroom +or the formality of the parlours.</p> + +<p>At four, my Grandfather returned from his day's +work, the family re-assembled, holding him in sufficient +awe never to be late, and dinner was served. The hour +was part of the leisurely life of Philadelphia as ordered +in Spruce Street. Philadelphians had dined at four during +a hundred years and more, and my Grandfather, who +rarely condescended to the frivolity of change, continued +to dine at four, as he continued to wear a stock, until the +end of his life. It was no doubt because of the contrast +with Convent fare that the dinner in my recollection remains +the most wonderful and elaborate I have ever eaten, +though I rack my brains in vain to recall any of its special +features except the figs and prunes on the high dessert +dishes, altogether the most luscious figs and prunes ever +grown and dried, and the decanter at my Grandfather's +place from which he dropped into his glass the few drops +of brandy he drank with his water while everybody else +drank their water undiluted. When friends came to +dinner, I recall also the Philadelphia decanter of Madeira, +though otherwise no greater ceremony. Dinner was always +as solemn an affair in my Grandfather's house as +morning prayers or any act of daily life over which he +presided, the whole house, at all times when he left it,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +relapsing into dressing-gown and slippered ease after the +full-dress decorum his presence required of it.</p> + +<p>The eight o'clock tea is a more definite function in my +memory, perhaps because the hours of waiting for it crept +by so slowly. After dinner, the Aunts, my Father, the one +Uncle who lived at home, vanished I never knew where, +though no doubt Philadelphia supplied some amusement +or occupation for the forlorn wreck four o'clock dinner +made of the afternoon. But the interval was spent by +my Grandfather and Grandmother at one of the front +parlour windows, the old-fashioned Philadelphia afghan +over their knees, their hands folded, while I, alone, my +Sister having had the independence to vanish with the +grown-ups, sat at the other, not daring to break the +silence in which they looked out into the drowsy street for +the people who seldom came and the events that never +happened; nothing disturbing the calm of Spruce Street +save the Sunday afternoon invasion of the +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'colored' and 'coloured' were used in this text. This was retained.">colored</ins> people +in their Sunday clothes from every near alley. It gives +me a pang now to pass and see the window empty that +once was always filled, in the hour before twilight, by +those two dear grey heads.</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>As I grew a little older, I had the courage to bring a +book to the window. It was there I read <i>The Lamplighter</i> +which I confuse now with the memory of our own lamplighter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +making his rounds; and <i>The Initials</i> with a haughty +Hilda for heroine—she must have been haughty for all +real heroines then were; and <i>Queechy</i> and <i>The Wide, Wide +World</i> and <i>Faith Gartney's Girlhood</i>, against whose sentiment +I am glad to say I revolted. And mixed up with +these were Mrs. Southworth's <i>Lost Heiress</i> and the anonymous +<i>Routledge</i>, light books for whose presence I cannot +account in my Grandfather's serious house. Does anybody +read <i>Routledge</i> now? Has anybody now ever heard +of it? What trash it was, but, after the improving romances +with a religious moral of the Convent Library, +after Wiseman's edifying <i>Fabiola</i> and Newman's scholarly—beyond +my years—<i>Callista</i>, how I revelled in it, with +what a choking throat I galloped through the lovesick +chapters! I could recite pages of it to myself to +relieve the dreariness of those long drives in the Third +Street car, or the long waiting in the dreary station. To +this day I remember the last sentence—"with his arm +around my waist and my face hidden on his shoulder, I +told him of the love, folly and pride that had so long kept +me from him." Could <i>Queechy</i>, could <i>Faith Gartney's +Girlhood</i> have been more sentimental than that? I dare +not look up the old books to see, lest their charm as well as +their sentiment should fade in the light of a more critical +age. Then Scott and Dickens, Miss Edgeworth, more +often <i>Holiday House</i>, filled the hours before tea. After +all, the old division of the day, the young generation +would be ashamed to go back to, had its uses.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 312px;"> +<img src="images/gs013.jpg" width="312" height="400" alt="CHRIST CHURCH INTERIOR" title="" /> +<span class="caption">CHRIST CHURCH INTERIOR</span> +</div><p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>The tea, when announced, was worth waiting, or putting +down the most entrancing book, for. Had I my way +I would make Philadelphia dine again at four o'clock for +the sake of the tea—of the frizzled beef that only Philadelphia +ever frizzled to a turn, the smoked salmon that +only Philadelphia ever smoked as an art, the Maryland +biscuits that ought to be called Philadelphia biscuits for +they were never half so good in their native land, the +home-made preserves put up in that sunshiny kitchen +where lilacs bloomed at the door. After all this long +quarter of a century, the smell of beef frizzling would take +me back to Eleventh and Spruce on a winter evening as +straight as the fragrance of the flowering bean carries me +to Pompeii in the early springtime, or of garlic to the little +sunlit towns of Provence at any season of the year. The +tea was a triumph of simplicity, but when there were guests +it became a feast. As a rule, it was the meal to which the +children and grandchildren who did not live in the Spruce +Street house were invited, and loved best to be invited. +For on these occasions my Grandmother could be relied +upon to provide stewed oysters, the masterpiece of +Margaret, her old grey-haired cook; and oyster croquettes +from Augustine's—my Grandfather would as soon +have begun the day without prayers as my Grandmother +have given a feast without the help of Augustine, that +caterer of colour who was for years supreme in Philadelphia;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +brandy peaches that, like the preserves, had been +put up at home, the brandy poured in with unexpected +lavishness for so temperate a household; and little round +cakes with white icing on top—what dear little ghosts +from out a far past they seemed when, after a quarter +of a century in a land where people know nothing of the +delights of little round cakes with white icing on top, I ate +them again at Philadelphia feasts. If the solemn, dignified +Grandfather at one end of the table kept our enjoyment +within the bounds of ceremony, we felt no restraint +with the little old Grandmother who beamed upon us from +the other, as she poured out the tea and coffee with hands +trembling so that, in her later years, the man servant,—usually +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'colored' and 'coloured' were used in this text. This was retained.">coloured</ins> +and not to Philadelphia as yet known as +butler or footman,—always stood close by to catch the tea +or coffee pot when it fell, which it never did.</p> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<p>I recall more formal family +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'reunion' and 're-union' were used in this text. This was retained.">reunions</ins>, +above all the +Golden Wedding, as impressive as a court function, the +two old people enthroned at the far end of the front parlour, +the sons and daughters and grandchildren approaching +in a solemn line—an embarrassed line when it came to +the youngest, always shy in the awful presence of the +Grandfather—and offering, each in turn, their gifts. We +were by no means a remarkable family, to the unprejudiced +we may have seemed a commonplace one, my +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'forefathers' and 'fore-fathers' were used in this text. This was retained.">forefathers</ins> +evidently having decided that leaving England<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +for America was a feat remarkable enough to satisfy +the ambitions of any one family and having then proceeded +to rest comfortably on their respectable laurels, but +we took each other with great seriousness. The oldest +Aunt, who was married and lived in New York, received +on her annual visit to Spruce Street the homage due to a +Princess Royal, and no King or Emperor could have +caused more of a flutter than my Grandfather when he +honoured one of his children with a visit. Family anniversaries +were scrupulously observed, the legend of family +affection was kept up as conscientiously, whatever it cost +us in discomfort, and there were times when we paid +heavily. I would have run many miles to escape one Uncle +who, when he met me in the street, would stop to ask how I +was, and how we all were at home, and then would stand +twisting his moustache in visible agony, trying to think +what the affectionate intimacy between us that did not +exist required him to say, while I thanked my stars that +we were in the street and not in a house where he would +have felt constrained to kiss me. We were horribly exact +in this matter of kissing. There was a family legend of +another Uncle from New York who once, when he came +over for some family meeting, was so eager to do his duty +by his nieces that he kissed not only all of them—no light +task—but two or three neighbours' little girls into the bargain. +I think, however, that every Philadelphia family +took itself as seriously and that our scruples were not a +monopoly brought with us from Virginia and Maryland.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +In a town where family names are handed down from +generation to generation, so that a family often will boast, +as ours did, not only a "Jr." but a "3d," and lose no +opportunity to let the world know it, family feeling is not +likely to be allowed to wilt and die.</p> + +<p>Every public holiday also was a family affair to be +observed with the rigours of the family feast. Christmas +for me, when I did not celebrate it at the Convent with +Midnight Mass and a <i>Crèche</i> in the chapel and kind nuns +trying to make me forget I had not gone home like other +little girls, took me to the Spruce Street house in time +to look on at the succession of Uncles and Aunts who +dropped in on Christmas Eve and went away laden with +bundles, and carrying in some safe pocket a collection of +envelopes with a crisp new greenback in each, the sum +varying from one hundred dollars to five according to the +age of the child or grandchild whose name was on the +envelope—my Grandfather gave with the fine patriarchal +air he maintained in all family relations. The family +appropriation of Thanksgiving Day and Washington's +Birthday I did not grasp until after I left school, for +while I was at the Convent they were both spent there, +where they dwindled into insignificance compared to +Reverend Mother's feast and its glories. As a rule, I +must have been at the Convent as well for the Fourth of +July, though I retain one jubilant vision of myself and a +bag of torpedoes in the back-yard, solemnizing a little +celebration among the roses. And I have larger visions<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +of military parades in broiling sunshine and of the City +Troop filling the quiet streets with their gorgeousness +which awed me long before the knowledge of their historic +origin and uniform inspired me with reverence.</p> + + +<h3>VI</h3> + +<p>Other duties and pleasures and observances that for +most Philadelphia children were scattered through the +interminable year, were crowded into my short holiday: +visits to the dentist, to Dr. Hopkins, Dr. White's assistant, +it being a test of Philadelphia respectability to have one's +teeth seen to by Dr. White or one of his assistants or students, +and the regular appointment was as much of obligation +for me as Mass on Sunday; visits to the Academy +of Fine Arts in the old Chestnut Street building, as I +remember set back at the end of a court that made of it a +place apart, a consecrated place which I entered with as +little anticipation of amusement as St. Joseph's Church +hidden in Willing's Alley, and was the more surprised +therefore to be entertained, as I must have been, by Benjamin +West, for of no other painter there have I the faintest +recollection; visits to the Academy of Natural Sciences, +where I liked the rows upon rows of stuffed birds, and the +strange things in bottles, and the colossal skeletons that +filled me with the same delicious shivers as the stories of +afreets and genii in <i>The Arabian Nights</i>; visits to Fairmount +Park, leagues away, houses left behind before it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +was reached, where the mysterious machinery of the +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: 'Waterworks,' 'Water Works,' and 'Water-Works' were used in this text. This was retained.">Waterworks</ins> +was as terrifying as the skeletons, and I +thought it much pleasanter outside under the blue sky; +visits to the theatre—the most wonderful visits of all, for +they took me out into the night that I knew only from +stolen vigils in the Convent dormitory, or glimpses from +the Spruce Street windows. Romance was in the dimly-lit +streets, in the stars above, in the town after dark, which +I was warned I was never to brave alone until I can laugh +now to think how terrified I was the first time I came home +late by myself, in my terror jumping into a street-car +and claiming the protection of a contemptuous young +woman whom work had not allowed to draw a conventional +line between day and night.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 312px;"> +<img src="images/gs014.jpg" width="312" height="400" alt="CLASSIC FAIRMOUNT" title="" /> +<span class="caption">CLASSIC FAIRMOUNT</span> +</div> + +<p>I have never got rid of that suggestion of romance, +not so much in the theatre itself as in the going to it, and, +to this day, a matinée in broad daylight will bring back a +little of the old thrill. But nothing can bring back to any +theatre the glitter, the brilliancy, the +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'splendor' and 'splendour' were used in this text. This was retained.">splendour</ins> +of the old +Chestnut, the old Walnut, the old Arch, then already +dingy with age I have no doubt, but transfigured by my +childhood's ecstasies in them. Nothing can persuade me +that any plays have been, or could be, written to surpass in +beauty, pathos and humour, <i>Solon Shingle</i>, and <i>Arrah-na-Pogue</i>, +and <i>Our American Cousin</i>, and <i>The Black Crook</i>, +and <i>Ours</i>, though I have forgotten all but their names; +that in opera Clara Louise Kellogg ever had a rival; that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +in gaiety and wit <i>La Grande Duchesse</i> and <i>La Belle +Hélène</i> could be eclipsed; or that any actors could compete +with Sothern and Booth and Mrs. Drew and the Davenports, +and Charlotte Cushman as <i>Meg Merrilies</i>—there +was a bit of good old melodramatic acting to make a small +Convent girl's flesh creep! Shakespeare was redeemed +by Booth from the dulness of the Convent reading-book +and entered gloriously into my Convent life. For one +happy winter, it was not I who led the long procession +down to the refectory, though nobody could have suspected +it, but the Ghost of Hamlet's Father, with, close +behind me, in gloom absorbed, the Prince of Denmark, +mistaken by the unknowing for the little girl, my friend, +whose father, with more than the usual father's amiable +endurance, had taken me with her and her sister to see +the play of <i>Hamlet</i> during the Christmas holidays.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 306px;"> +<img src="images/gs015.jpg" width="306" height="400" alt="DOWN PINE STREET" title="" /> +<span class="caption">DOWN PINE STREET</span> +</div> + +<p>The theatre has become part of the modern school +course. If an actor like Forbes-Robertson gives a farewell +performance of <i>Hamlet</i>, or a manager like Beerbohm +Tree produces a patriotic melodrama, or the company +from the Théâtre Français perform one of the rare +classics that the young person may be taken to, I have +seen a London theatre filled with school girls and boys. +From what I hear I might imagine the theatre and the +opera to be the most serious studies of every Philadelphia +school. At the Convent I should have envied the modern +students could I have foreseen their liberty, but they have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +more reason to envy me. The gilt has been rubbed too +soon off their gingerbread, too soon has the tinsel of their +theatre been tarnished. My Spartan training gave me a +theatre that can never cease to be a Wonderland, just as it +endowed me with a Philadelphia that will endure, until this +world knows me no more, as a beautiful, peaceful town +where roses bloom in the sunny back-yards, and people live +with dignity behind the plain red brick fronts of its long, +straight streets.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV: AT THE CONVENT</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>As the theatre, in my memory, still gives the crowning +glory to my holiday in Philadelphia, so, in +looking back, the brief holiday seems the spectacle, +the romance, the supreme moment, of my early years. +The scene of my +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'everyday' and 'every-day' were used in this text. This was retained.">every-day</ins> +life was that Convent of the +Sacred Heart at Torresdale which was the end of the interminable +ride in the Third Street horse-car and the shorter +ride in the Pennsylvania Railroad train.</p> + +<p>The Philadelphian who did not live in the Convent +would have seen it the other way round, for the Convent +was unlike enough to Philadelphia to suggest the romance +of the unusual. Only in one or two respects did it provide +me with facts that every proper Philadelphian was brought +up to know, and let me say again that because I had to +find out the others—the more characteristically Philadelphia +facts—for myself, I think they probably made a +stronger impression upon me than upon the Philadelphian +guiltless of ever straying, or of ever having been allowed +to stray, from the approved Philadelphia path.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>When the Ladies of the Sacred Heart decided to +open a Convent in Philadelphia, an uncertain enterprise +if it is considered how un-Catholic Philadelphia was, they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +began in a fairly modest way by taking a large house at +Torresdale, with lawns and gardens and woods and a great +old-fashioned barn, the country seat of a Philadelphian +whose name I have forgotten. It stood to the west of the +railroad, at a discreet distance from the little cluster of +houses by the riverside that alone meant Torresdale to the +Philadelphians who lived in them.</p> + +<p>The house, I can now see, was typical as I first knew +it, the sort the Philadelphian built for himself in the +suburbs at a period too removed from Colonial days for +it to have the beauty of detail and historic interest of the +Colonial house, and yet near enough to them for dignity +of proportion and spaciousness to be desirable, if not +essential to a Philadelphian's comfort. A wide, lofty hall +ran from the front door to the back, on either side were +two large airy rooms with space between for the broad +main stairway, a noble structure, and the carefully concealed +back stairway—<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'halfway' and 'half-way' were used in this text. This was retained.">half-way</ins> +up which in my time was +the little infirmary window where, at half past ten every +morning, Sister Odille dispensed pills and powders to +those in need of them. Along the entire front of the +house was a broad porch,—the indispensable Philadelphia +piazza—its roof supported by a row of substantial columns +over which roses and honeysuckle clambered fragrantly +and luxuriantly in the June sunshine. The house was +painted a cheerful yellow that went well with the white +of the woodwork about the windows and the porch: not +a very beautiful type of house, but pleasant, substantial,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +luxurious, and making as little outward show of its luxury +as the plain red brick town house of the wealthy Philadelphian.</p> + +<p>How comfortable a type of house it was to live in, +I know from experience of another, not a school, within +sight, a ten minutes' walk across the fields, and like it +in design and arrangement and even colour, in everything +except size,—which my Father took one summer: +to me a most memorable summer as it was the first I spent +outside the Convent limits from the beginning to the end +of the long holiday. The jerry-builder had had no part in +putting up the solid, well-constructed walls which stood +firm against winter storms and winds, and were no less a +protection from the torrid heat of a Philadelphia summer. +But fashion can leave architecture no more alone than +dress. Already, the newer group of houses down by the +Delaware were built of the brown stone which, to my +mind, dates the beginning of the Philadelphian's fall from +architectural grace, the beginning of his distrust in William +Penn's plans for his well-being and of his foolish +hankering after the fleshpots of New York.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 309px;"> +<img src="images/gs016.jpg" width="309" height="400" alt="LOUDOUN, MAIN STREET GERMANTOWN" title="" /> +<span class="caption"><ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'LOUDORN'">LOUDOUN</ins>, MAIN STREET GERMANTOWN</span> +</div> + +<p>The Convent, before I came to it, had been a victim +to the brown stone fashion. With success, the pleasant old +country house had grown too small for the school into +which it had been converted, and a southern wing had been +added: a long, low building with the Chapel at the far end, +all built in brown stone and in a style that passed for +Gothic and that a thousand times I could have wished<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +based upon any other model. For the upper room in the +wing, ambitiously christened by somebody Gothic Hall, +had a high pointed roof that made it an ice-house in winter +and, for our sins, it was used as the Dormitory of the +Sacred Heart where I slept. I can recall mornings when +the water was frozen in our pitchers while the big stove, +in the middle of the high-pitched room, burned red hot +as if to mock at us as, with numbed fingers, we struggled +to make our beds and wash ourselves and button and hook +on our clothes. And the builders had so contrived that +summer turned our fine Gothic Dormitory into a fiery +furnace. How many June nights, contrary to all the rules, +have I hung out of the little, horribly Gothic window at the +head of my alcove, gasping in the warm darkness that was +so sweet and stifling with the fragrance of the flowers in +Madame Huguet's garden just below.</p> + +<p>I had not been long at the Convent before another +brown stone wing extended to the north and two stories +were added to the main building which, for the sake of +harmony, was now painted brown from top to bottom. In +a niche on this new façade, a statue of the Sacred Heart +was set, and all semblance to the old country house was +gone, except for the broad porch without and the well-proportioned +rooms within. But these, and later improvements, +additions and alterations cannot make me forget +the Convent as it was when I first came to it, growing up +about the simple, solidly-built, spacious yellow house that +was once the Philadelphian's ideal of suburban comfort<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +and so like the house where I spent my most memorable +summer, so like, save for the size and the colour, my Great-Grandfather +Ambrose White's old house on the Turnpike +at Chestnut Hill, so like innumerable other country houses +of the same date where I visited.</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>The Convent rule and discipline could not alter the +changing of the seasons as Philadelphia ordered them. +They might appear to us mainly regulated by feasts and +fasts—All Saints and All Souls, the milestones on the +road to Christmas; Lent and the month of St. Joseph +heralding the approach of spring; the month of Mary +and the month of the Sacred Heart, Ascension and +Corpus-Christi, as ardent and splendid as the spring and +summer days they graced. But, all the same, each season +came laden with the pleasures held in common by all fortunate +Philadelphia children who had the freedom of the +country or the countrified suburbs.</p> + +<p>The school year began with the fall, when any night +might bring the first frost and the first tingle in the air—champagne +to quicken the blood in a school girl's veins, +and make the sitting still through the long study and class +hours a torture. The woods shone with gold; the Virginia +creeper flamed on the front porch; sickel pears fell, ripe +and luscious, from the tree close to the Chapel where it was +against the law to go and pick them up but where no law +in the world could have barred the way; chestnuts and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +hickory nuts and the walnuts that stained my fingers black +to open offered a substantial dessert after as substantial +a dinner as ever children were served with. But those +were the joyful years when hunger never could be satisfied +and digestion was equal to any surfeit of raw chestnuts—or +raw turnips for that matter, if the season supplied no +lighter dainties, or of next to anything that could be +picked up and eaten. I know I drew the line only at the +huge, white, oversweet mulberries strewing the grass by +the swings in Mulberry Lane, that favourite scene of the +war to the knife we waged under the name of Old Man and +Bands, primitive games not to be outdone by the Tennis +and Hockey of the more sophisticated modern school girl.</p> + +<p>The minute the Refectory was left for the noonday +hour of recreation on a brisk autumn day, there was a wild +scamper to the woods where, just beyond the gate that led +into them, the hoary old chestnut trees spread their shade +and dropped their fruit on either side the hill between the +Poisonous Valley, a thrill in its deadly name, and the +graveyard, few crosses then in the green enclosure which +now, alas! is too well filled. The shadow of death lay so +lightly upon us that I recall to-day only the delicious rustle +of eager feet through the fallen leaves, and the banging of +stone upon stone as hickory nuts cracked between them, +I feel only the delicious pricking of the chestnut burrs +in the happy, hardened fingers of the school girl. And +these, anyway, are memories I share with every Philadelphian +who, as a child, wandered in the suburbs or the near<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +country when the woods were gold and scarlet, and the way +through them was carpeted with leaves hiding rich stores +of nuts for the seeker after treasure.</p> + +<p>But no Philadelphia child in the shelter of her own +house could know the meaning of the Philadelphia winter +as I knew it in the Convent, half frozen in that airy dormitory +of the Sacred Heart, shivering in shawl and hood +through early Mass in the icy Chapel, still huddled in my +shawl at my desk or scurrying as fast as discipline would +wink at through the windy passages. The heating arrangements, +somehow, never succeeded in coping with the +extreme cold of a severe winter in the large rooms and +halls of the new wings, and I must confess that we were +often most miserably uncomfortable. I cannot but wonder +what the pampered school girls of the present generation +in the same Convent would say to such discomfort. But it +did us no harm. Indeed, though I shiver at the memory, +I am sure it did us good. We came out the healthier and +hardier for it, much as the Englishman does from his cold +house, the coldest in the world. The old conditions of a +hardier life, that either killed or cured, did far more to +make a vigorous people than all the new-fangled eugenics +ever can.</p> + +<p>If I had little of the comfort of the Philadelphia child +in the Philadelphia house, I shared with him the outdoor +pleasures which winter provided by way of compensation—the +country white under snow for weeks and weeks, +snowballs to be made and snow houses built, sliding to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +had on the frozen lake, and coasting down the long hill +just beyond the gate into the woods, when there were sleds +to coast on. And what excitement in the marvellous snow-storms +that have vanished with other marvels of my youth—the +storms that put the new blizzard to shame, when the +snow drifts were mountains high, and it took all the men +on the farm, with Big John at their head, to clear a way +through the near paths and roads. I recall one storm in +particular when my Father, who had been making his +periodical visit to my Sister and myself, left the Convent +at six, was snowed up in his train, and never reached the +dingy Depot in Frankford until three the next morning, +and when for days we got out of the house only for a +solemn ten minutes' walk each noon on the wide front +porch, where it was a shocking breach of discipline to be +seen at all other times except on Thursday and Sunday, +the Convent visiting days. Of the inspiriting rigours of +a Philadelphia winter I was never in ignorance.</p> + +<p>In the snow drifts and storms of winter Big John and +his men were not more helpless than in the floods and +slush that began with the first soft breath of the Philadelphia +spring. Wearing our big shapeless overshoes, we +waded through the puddles and jumped over the streams +in the Convent paths and roads as, in town, Philadelphia +children, with their "gums" on, jumped over the streams +and waded through the puddles in the abominably paved +streets. But then hope too began when the first spaces of +green were uncovered by the melting snow. The first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +spring-beauty in the sunny spaces of the woods, the first +flowery frost in the orchard, the first blooming of the tulip +trees, were among the great events of the year. And what +joy now in the new hunt!—what treasure of spring-beauties +everywhere in the woods as the sun grew warmer, +of shyer, retired hepaticas, of white violets running wild +in the swampy fields beyond the lake, of sweet trailing +arbutus, of Jacks-in-the-pulpit flourishing best in the +damp thickets of the Poisonous Valley into which I never +wandered without a tremor not merely because it was a +forbidden adventure, but because, though I passed through +it unscathed, I had seen so often the horrible and unsightly +red rash one whiff from over its bushes and trees +could bring out on the faces and hands of my schoolmates +with a skin more sensitive than mine. Games lost their +charm in the spring sunshine and our one pleasure was in +the hunt, no longer for chestnuts and walnuts and hickory +nuts, but solely for flowers, bringing back great bunches +wilting in our hot little hands, to place before the shrine +that aroused the warmest fervours of our devotion or was +tended by the nun of our special adoration.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 306px;"> +<img src="images/gs017.jpg" width="306" height="400" alt="ENTRANCE TO FAIRMOUNT AND THE WASHINGTON STATUE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ENTRANCE TO FAIRMOUNT AND THE WASHINGTON STATUE</span> +</div> + +<p>And before we knew it, the spring-beauties and hepaticas +and white violets and Jacks-in-the-pulpit disappeared +from the woods, and the flowery frost from the orchard, +and the great blossoms from the tulip trees, and summer +was upon us—blazing summer when we lay perspiring on +our little beds up there in Gothic Hall where a few months +before we shivered and shook, perspiration streamed from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +our faces on our school books at the study hour, more a +burden than ever as we drooped and drowsed in the heat;—blazing +summer when the fragrance of the roses hung +heavy over Madame Huguet's garden and mingled with +the too sweet fragrance of the honeysuckle about the +columns of the porch and over every door;—blazing summer +when all day long meadows and gardens and lawns +swooned under the pitiless sunshine and we, who had +braved the winter cold undismayed, never put as much as +our noses out of doors until the hour of sunset;—blazing +summer when for many years I saw the other girls going +home, the gaiety of sea and mountain and change awaiting +them, while my Sister and I stayed on, desolate at heart +despite the efforts of the nuns to help us forget, feeling +forlornly forsaken as we watched the green burnt up into +brown and the summer flowers wilt and die, and the +drought turn the roads to dust, and all Nature parched as +we parched with it. The holiday dragged terribly and, +reversing the usual order of things, I counted the days +until school would begin again. However, at least I can +say that I saw the Philadelphia summer in its full terrors +as every Philadelphia child ever born, for whom wealth or +chance opens no gate of escape, must see it and did see it +of old.</p> + +<p>And so for me in the Convent the seasons were the +same as for the child in Philadelphia and its suburbs. And +I <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learnt</ins> +how cold Philadelphia can be, and how hot—if +Penn, safe in England, was grateful for the greater nearness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +of his town to the sun, not a Philadelphian on the +spot, sweltering through its midsummer heat, has ever yet +shared his gratitude. And I +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learnt</ins> +how beautiful Philadelphia +is as it grows mild again after winter has done its +worst, or as it cools off in the friendlier autumn sun. And +not to know these facts is not to know Philadelphia.</p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>In the Convent regulation of daily life lay the unconquerable +difference. Philadelphia has its laws and +traditions that guide the Philadelphian through every hour +and duty of the day, and the Philadelphian, who from the +cradle does not obey these traditions and laws, can never be +quite as other Philadelphians. The Sacred Heart is a +French order, and the nuns imported their laws and traditions +from France, qualified, modified, perhaps, on the +way, but still with an unmistakable foreign flavour and +tendency that could not pass unquestioned in a town where +the first article of faith is that everybody should do precisely +what everybody else does.</p> + +<p>I remember when the Rhodes scholars were first sent +from America to Oxford a friend of mine professed serious +concern for the future of the University should they introduce +buckwheat cakes on Oxford breakfast tables. And, +really, he was not as funny as he thought. A man is a good +deal what his food makes him. The macaroni-fed Italian +is not as the sausage-and-sauerkraut-fed German, nor the +Hindu who thrives on rice as the Irishman bred upon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +potatoes. Never was a town more concerned with the +Question of Food than Philadelphia and I now see quite +plainly that I, beginning my day at the Convent on coffee +and rolls, could not have been as the correct Philadelphia +child beginning the day in Philadelphia or the suburbs on +scrapple and buckwheat cakes and maple syrup. Thus, +the line of separation was drawn while I was still in short +skirts with my hair cropped close.</p> + +<p>The Convent day continued, as it began, with differences. +I sat down at noon to the substantial French +breakfast which at the Convent, as a partial concession to +American ideals, became dinner. At half past three, like +a little French girl, I had my <i>goûter</i>, for which even the +French name was retained—how well I remember the big, +napkin-lined basket, full of hunks of good gingerbread, +or big crackers, or sweet rolls, passed round by Sister +Duffy, probably the most generous of all generous Irishwomen, +who would have slipped an extra piece into every +little hand if she could, but who was so shockingly cross-eyed +that we got an idea of her as a disagreeable old thing, +an ogress, always watching to see if we took more than our +appointed share. Quite recently I argued it all out again +with the few old Sisters left to greet me on my first and +only visit to the Convent during thirty years and, purely +for the sake of the sentiment of other days. I refused to +believe them when they insisted that Sister Duffy, who now +lies at peace in the little graveyard on the hillside in the +woods, wasn't cross at all, but as tender as any Sister who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +ever waited on hungry little girls! I would have given a +great deal could she have come back, cross-eyes and all, +with her big basket of gingerbread to make me feel at +home again, as I could not in the Visitors' dining-room +where my <i>goûter</i> was set out on a neatly spread table, +even though on one side of me was "Marie" of <i>Our Convent +Days</i>, my friend who had been Prince of Denmark +in our Booth-stricken period, and on the other Miss Repplier, +the chronicler of our childish adventures. It was the +first time we three had sat there together since more years +than I am willing to count, and I think we were too conscious +that youth now was no longer of the company not to +feel the sadness as keenly as the pleasure of the +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'reunion' and 're-union' were used in this text. This was retained.">reunion</ins> in +our old home.</p> + +<p><i>Goûter</i>, with its associations, has sent me wandering +far from the daily routine which ended, in the matter of +meals, with a supper of meat and potatoes and I hardly +know what, at half past six, when little Philadelphia girls +were probably just finishing their cambric tea and bread-and-butter, +and even the buns from Dexter's when these +had been added as a special treat or reward. How could +we, upon so much heavier fare, have seen things, how could +we have looked upon life, just as those other little girls +did?</p> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<p>We did not play, any more than we ate, like the child +in Philadelphia or its suburbs. One memory of our playtime +I have common to all Philadelphia children of my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +generation: the memory of Signor Blitz, on a more than +usually blissful Reverend Mother's Feast, taking rabbits +out of our hats and bowls of gold-fish out of his sleeve, and +holding a long conversation with the immortal Bobby, the +most prodigious puppet that ever conversed with any professional +ventriloquist. But this was a rare ecstasy never +repeated.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs018.jpg" width="400" height="314" alt="MAIN STREET, GERMANTOWN" title="" /> +<span class="caption">MAIN STREET, GERMANTOWN</span> +</div> + +<p>What games the children in Rittenhouse Square and +the Lanes of Germantown had, I cannot record, but of +one thing I am sure: they did not go to the tune and the +words of "<i>Sur le pont d'Avignon</i>," or "<i>Qu' est-ce qui +passe ici si tard</i>," or "<i>Il était un avocat</i>." Nor, I fancy, +were "<i>Malbrough s'en va-t'en guerre</i>" and "<i>Au clair de la +lune, mon ami Pierrot</i>," the songs heard in the Philadelphia +nursery. Nor is it likely that "<i>C'est le mois de +Marie</i>," which we sang as lustily all through May as the +devout in France sing it in every church and every cathedral +from one end of their land to the other, was the +canticle of pious little Catholic children celebrating the +month of Mary at St. Joseph's or St. Patrick's. Nor +outside the Convent could the Bishop on his pastoral +rounds have been welcomed with the "<i>Vive! Vive! Vive! +Monseigneur au Sacré Coeur, Quel Bonheur!</i>" which, the +title appropriately changed, was our form of welcome to +every distinguished visitor. And, singing these songs and +canticles, how could the associations and memories we were +laying up for ourselves be the same as those of Philadelphia +children whose ears and voices were trained on "Juanita"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +and "Listen to the Mocking Bird," or, it may be, "Marching +through Georgia" and "Way down upon the Swanee +River"? These things may make subtle distinctions, but +they are distinctions that can never be overcome or outgrown.</p> + +<p>In study hours, as in playtime and at meals, we were +seldom long out of this French atmosphere. French class +was only shorter than English. If we were permitted to +talk at breakfast, it was not at all that we might amuse +ourselves, but that we might practise our French which +did not amuse us in the least. Many of the nuns were +French, often, it is true, French from Louisiana or Canada, +but their English was not one bit more fluent on that +account. Altogether, there was less of Philadelphia than +of France in the discipline, the devotions, and the relaxations +of the Convent.</p> + + +<h3>VI</h3> + +<p>But, of all the differences, the most fundamental, I +think, came from the fact that the Convent was a Convent +and taught us to accept the conventual, the monastic interpretation +of life. We were there in, not only a French, but +a cloistered atmosphere—the atmosphere that Philadelphia +least of all towns could understand. The Friends had +attained to peace and unworldliness by staying in their own +homes and fulfilling their duty as fathers and mothers of +families, as men and women of business. But the nuns<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +saw no way to achieve this end except by shutting themselves +out of the world and avoiding its temptations. The +Ladies of the Sacred Heart are cloistered. They leave the +Convent grounds only to journey from one of their houses +to another, for care is taken that they do not, by staying +over long in one school, form too strong an attachment to +place or person. Where would be the use of being a nun +if you were not made to understand the value of sacrifice? +Their pupils are, for the time, as strictly cloistered. Not +for us were the walks abroad by which most girls at boarding +school keep up with the times—or get ahead of them. +We were as closely confined to the Convent grounds as the +nuns, except during the holidays or when a friend or relation +begged for us a special outing. It was not a confinement +depending on high stone walls and big gates with +clanging iron chains and bars. But the wood fences running +with the board walk above the railroad and about the +woods and the fields and the gardens made us no less +prisoners—willing and happy prisoners as we might be, +and were. This gave us, or gave me at any rate, a curious +idea of the Convent as a place entirely apart, a place that +had nothing to do with the near town or the suburb in +which it stood—a blessed oasis in the sad wilderness of the +world.</p> + +<p>There is no question that, as a result, I felt myself +in anticipation a stranger in the wilderness into which I +knew I must one day go from the oasis, and in which I used<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +to imagine I should be as much of an exile as the Children +of Israel in the desert. Of course I was not quite that +when the time came, but that for an interval I was convinced +I must be explains how unlike in atmosphere the +Convent was to Eleventh and Spruce.</p> + +<p>In all sorts of little ways I was confirmed in this belief +by life and its duties at the Convent. For all that concerned +me nearly, for all that was essential to existence +here below, Philadelphia seemed to me as remote as Timbuctoo. +I got insensibly to think of myself first not as +a Philadelphian, not as an American, but as a "Child of +the Sacred Heart,"—the first question under all circumstances +was what I should do, not as a Philadelphian, but +as a Child of the Sacred Heart.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs019.jpg" width="400" height="308" alt="ARCH STREET MEETING" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ARCH STREET MEETING</span> +</div> + +<p>I cannot say how much the mere name of the thing +represented—the honour and the privilege—and there was +not a girl who had been for any time a pupil who did not +prize it as I did. And we were not given the chance to +forget or belittle it. We were impressed with the importance +of showing our appreciation of the distinction Providence +had reserved for us—of showing it not merely by +our increased faith and devotion, but by our bearing and +conduct. We might be slack about our lessons. That +was all right at a period when slackness prevailed in girls' +schools and it was unfeminine, if not unladylike, to be too learned. +But we were not let off from the diligent cultivation +of our manners. Our faith and devotion were +attended to in a daily half hour of religious instruction.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +But Sunday was not too holy a day for the Politeness +Class that was held every week as surely as Sunday came +round, in which we were taught all the mysteries of a +Deportment that might have given tips to the great Turveydrop +himself,—how to sit, how to walk, how to carry +ourselves under all circumstances, how to pick up a handkerchief +a passer-by might drop—an unspeakable martyrdom +of a class when each unfortunate student, in turn, went +through her paces with the eyes of all the school upon her +and to the sound of the stifled giggles of the boldest. We +never met one of our mistresses in the corridors that we +did not drop a laboured curtsey—a shy, deplorably awkward +curtsey when I met the Reverend Mother, Mother +Boudreau, a large, portly, dignified nun from Louisiana +and a model of deportment, who inspired me with a respectful +fear I never have had for any other mortal. We +could not answer a plain "Yes" or "No" to our mistresses, +but the "Madam" must always politely follow. +"Remember" was a frequent warning, "remember that +wherever, or with whom, you may be, to behave like children +of the Sacred Heart!" A Child of the Sacred Heart, +we were often told, should be known by her manners. And +so impressed were we with this precept that I remember a +half-witted, but harmless, elderly woman whom the nuns, +in their goodness, had kept on as a "parlour boarder" +after her school days were over, telling us solemnly that +when she was in New York and went out shopping with +her sister, the young men behind the counter at Stewart's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +would all look at her with admiring eyes and whisper to +each other, "Is it not easy to see that Miss C. is a Child +of the Sacred Heart?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs020.jpg" width="400" height="309" alt="THE TRAIN SHED, BROAD STREET STATION" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE TRAIN SHED, BROAD STREET STATION</span> +</div> + +<p>Seriously, the training did give something that nothing +else could, and an admirable training it was for which girls +to-day might exchange more than one brain-bewildering +course at College and be none the worse for it. In my own +case, I admit, I should not mind having had more of the +other training, as it has turned out that my work in life +is of the sort where a quick intelligence counts for more +than an elegant deportment. But I can find no fault with +the Convent for neglect. Girls then were not educated +to work. If you had asked any girl anywhere what was +woman's mission, she would have answered promptly—had +she been truthful—"to find a husband as soon as +possible;" if she were a Convent girl,—a Child of the +Sacred Heart—she would have added, "or else to become +a nun." Her own struggles to fit herself for any other +career the inconsiderate Fates might drive her into, so +far from doing her any harm, were the healthiest and most +bracing of tonics. Granted an average mind, she could +teach herself through necessity just the important things +school could not teach her through a routine she didn't see +the use of. She emerged from the ordeal not only heroically +but successfully, which was more to the point. A +young graduate from Bryn Mawr said to me some few days +ago that when she looked at her mother and the women<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +of her mother's generation and +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realize</ins>d +all they had accomplished +without what is now called education, she wondered +whether the girls of her generation, who had the benefit of +all the excess of education going, would or could accomplish +more, or as much. To tell the truth, I wonder myself. +But then it may be said that I, belonging to that +older generation, am naturally prejudiced.</p> + + +<h3>VII</h3> + +<p>There are moments when, reflecting on all I lost as a +Philadelphian, I am half tempted to regret my long years +of seclusion, busy about my soul and my manners, at the +Convent. A year or so would not have much mattered one +way or the other. I led, however, no other life save the +Convent life until I was seventeen. I knew no other +standpoint save the Convent standpoint.</p> + +<p>But the temptation to regret flies as quickly as it +comes. I loved the life too well at the time, I love it too +well in the retrospect, to have wanted then, or to want now, +to do without it. It was a happy life to live, though I +would not have been a school girl had I not, with the school +girl's joy in the morbid, liked nothing better than to pose +as the unhappiest of mortals—to be a school girl was to +be misunderstood I would have vowed, had I, in my safe +oasis, ever heard the expression or had the knowledge to +guess at its meaning. I loved every stone in the house, +brown and ugly as every stone might be, I loved every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +tree in the woods whether or no it dropped pleasant things +to devour, I loved every hour of the day whatever might +be its task. I had a quick memory, study was no great +trouble to me, and I enjoyed every class and recitation. +I enjoyed getting into mischief—I wore once only the +Ribbon for Good Conduct—and I enjoyed being punished +for it. In a word, I got a good deal out of my life, +if it was not exactly what a girl was sent to school to get. +And it is as happy a life to remember, with many picturesque +graces and absurdities, joys and sorrows, that an +uninterrupted existence at Eleventh and Spruce could not +have given.</p> + +<p>I have no desire to talk sentimental nonsense about +my school days having been my happiest. That sort of +talk is usually twaddle. It was not as school that I loved +the Convent, though as school it had its unrivalled attractions; +it was as home. When the time came to go from it +I suffered that sharp pang felt by most girls on leaving +home for school. I remember how I, who affected a sublime +scorn for the cry-baby, blubbered like one myself +when I was faced with the immediate prospect of life in +Philadelphia. How well I recall my despair—how vividly +I see the foolish scene I made in the empty Refectory, +shadowy in the dusk of the June evening, where I was +rehearsing the valedictory of the Graduating Class which +I had been chosen to recite, and where, after the first few +lines I broke down to my shame, and sniffled and gurgled +and sobbed in the lap of the beloved mistress who was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +doing her best to comfort me, and also to keep me from +disgracing her, as I should have done by any such scene on +the great day itself.</p> + +<p>If the Convent stands for so much in my memory, it +would be ungrateful to regret the years I spent in it. The +sole reason would be my loss, not as a student, but as a +Philadelphian, for this loss was the price I paid. But the +older I grow, the better I +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realize</ins> +that to the loss I owe an +immeasurable gain. For as a child I never got so accustomed +to Philadelphia as not to see it at all. The thing +we know too well is often the thing we see least clearly, or +we should not need the philosopher to remind us that that +is best which nearest lieth. All through my childhood and +early youth I saw Philadelphia chiefly from the outside, +and so saw it with more awe and wonder and lasting delight +than those Philadelphians who, in childhood and +early youth, saw it only from the inside,—too near for +it to come together into the picture that tells.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V: TRANSITIONAL</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>And so it was with a great fear in my heart that, +in the course of time and after I had +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> as +little as it was decent for Philadelphia girls to +learn in the days before Bryn Mawr, I left the Convent +altogether for Philadelphia. I can smile now in recalling +the old fear, but it was no smiling matter at seventeen: a +weeping matter rather, and many were the tears I shed in +secret over the prospect before me. My holidays had not +revealed Philadelphia to me as a place of evil and many +dangers. But as I was to live there, it represented the +world,—the sinful world, worse, the unknown world, to +battle with whose temptations my life and training at the +Convent had been the preparation.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 313px;"> +<img src="images/gs021.jpg" width="313" height="400" alt="ST PETER'S, INTERIOR" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ST PETER'S, INTERIOR</span> +</div> + +<p>It added to the danger that sin could wear so peaceful +an aspect and temptation keep so comfortably out of +sight. During an interval, longer than I cared to have it, +for I did not "come out" at once as a Philadelphia girl +should and at the Convent I had made few Philadelphia +friends, my personal knowledge of Philadelphia did not +go much deeper than its house fronts. For the most part +they bore the closest family resemblance to those of +Eleventh and Spruce, with the same suggestion of order +and repose in their well-washed marble steps and neatly-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>drawn +blinds. My Father had then moved to Third +Street near Spruce, and there rented a red brick house, one-half, +or one-third, the size of my Grandfather's, but very +like it in every other way, to the roses in the tiny back-yard +and to the daily family routine except that, with a +courageous defiance of tradition I do not know how we +came by, we dined at the new dinner hour of six and said +our prayers in the privacy of our bedrooms. The Stock +Exchange was only a minute away, and yet, at our end, +Third Street had not lost its character as a respectable +residential street. We had for neighbours old Miss Grelaud +and the Bullitts and, round the corner in Fourth Street, +the Wisters and Bories and Schaumbergs,—with what +bated breath Philadelphia talked of the beauty and talents +of Miss Emily Schaumberg, as she still was!—and many +other Philadelphia families who had never lived anywhere +else. Life went on as silently and placidly and +regularly as at the Convent. I seemed merely to have +exchanged one sort of monastic peace for another and the +loudest sound I ever heard, the jingling of my old friend +the horse-car, was not so loud as to disturb it.</p> + +<p>If I walked up Spruce Street, or as far as Pine and up +Pine, silence and peace enfolded me. Peace breathed, +exuded from the red brick houses with their white marble +steps, their white shutters below and green above, their +pleasant line of trees shading the red brick pavement. +The occasional brown stone front broke the uniformity +with such brutal discord that I might have imagined the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +devil I knew was waiting for me somewhere lurked behind +it, and have seen in its pretentious aping of New York +fashion the sin in which Philadelphia, as the Sinful World, +must abound. I cannot say why it seemed to me, and still +seems, so odious, for there were other interruptions to the +monotony I delighted in—the beautiful open spaces and +great trees about the Pennsylvania Hospital and St. +Peter's; the old Mint which, with its severe classical façade, +seemed to reproach the frivolity of the Chestnut Street +store windows on every side of it; General Paterson's +square grey house with long high-walled garden at Thirteenth +and Locust; the big yellow Dundas house at Broad +and Walnut, with its green enclosure and the magnolia +for whose blossoming I +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learnt</ins> +to watch with the coming +of spring; that other garden with wide-spreading trees +opposite my Grandfather's at Eleventh and Spruce: old +friends these quickly grew to be, kindly landmarks on the +way when I took the walks that were so solitary in those +early days, through streets where it was seldom I met +anybody I knew, for the Convent had made me a good +deal of a stranger in my native town,—where it was seldom, +indeed, I met anybody at all.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>When I went out, I usually turned in the direction of +Spruce and Pine, for to turn in the other, towards Walnut, +was to be at once in the business part of the town where +Philadelphia women preferred not to be seen, having no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +desire to bridge over the wide gulf of propriety that then +yawned between the sex and business. Except for the +character of the buildings and the signs at the doors, I +might not have been conscious of the embarrassing difference +between this and my more familiar haunts. Bankers' +and stock-brokers' offices were on every side, but the +Third Street car did not jingle any louder as it passed, +my way was not more crowded, peace still enveloped me. +I gathered from my Father, who was a broker, that the +Stock Exchange, when buying and selling had to be done +on the spot and not by telephone as in our degenerate days, +was now and then a scene of animation, and it might be of +noise and disorder, more especially at Christmas, when a +brisker business was done in penny whistles and trumpets +than in stocks and shares. But the animation overflowed +into Third Street only at moments of panic, to us welcome +as moments of prosperity for they kept my Father busy—we +thrived on panics—and then, once or twice, I saw staid +Philadelphians come as near running as I ever knew them +to in the open street.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs022.jpg" width="400" height="316" alt="THE PENNSYLVANIA HOSPITAL FROM PINE STREET" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE PENNSYLVANIA HOSPITAL FROM PINE STREET</span> +</div> + +<p>Now and then youth got the better of me and I sought +adventure in the unadventurous monotony of Walnut +Street where the lawyers had their offices, the courts not +having as yet migrated up to Broad Street. It was usually +lost in heavy legal slumber and if my intrusion was bold, +at least nobody was about to resent it. Nor could there +be a doubt of the eminent respectability into which I intruded. +The recommendation to Philadelphia of its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +lawyers was not the high esteem in which they were held +throughout the country, but their social standing at home—family +gave distinction to the law, not the law to family. +Approved Philadelphia names adorned the signs at almost +every office door and not for some years was the evil day +to dawn when the well-known Philadelphia families who +inherited the right of the law would be forced to fight +for it with the alien and the Jew. For me, I think I am at +an age when I may own that the irreproachable names on +the signs were not the principal attraction. Sometimes, +from one of the somnolent offices, a friendly figure would +step into the somnolent street to lighten me on my way, +and it was pleasanter to walk up Walnut in company than +alone. When I went back the other day, after many years +and many changes for Philadelphia and myself, I found +most of the familiar signs gone, but at one door I was met +by a welcome ghost—but, was it the ghost of that friendly +figure or of my lonely youth grasping at romance or its +shadow? How many years must pass, how many experiences +be gone through, before a question like that can be +asked!</p> + +<p>If I followed Third Street beyond Walnut to Chestnut, +I was in the region of great banks and trust companies +and newspaper offices and the old State House and the +courts. I had not had the experience, or the training, to +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realize</ins> +what architectural monstrosities most of the new, big, +heavy stone buildings were, nor the curiosity to investigate +what went on inside of them, but after the quiet red brick<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +houses they seemed to have business written all over them +and the street, compared to Spruce and Walnut, appeared +to my unsophisticated eyes so thronged that I did not have +to be told it was no place for me. It was plain that most +women felt as I did, so careful were they to efface themselves. +I remember meeting but few on Chestnut Street +below Eighth until Mr. Childs began to devote his leisure +moments and loose change to the innocent amusement of +presenting a cup and saucer to every woman who would +come to get it, and as most women in Philadelphia, or out +of it, are eager to grab anything they do not have to pay +for, many visited him in the <i>Ledger</i> office at Sixth and +Chestnut.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 322px;"> +<img src="images/gs023.jpg" width="322" height="400" alt="SECOND STREET MARKET" title="" /> +<span class="caption">SECOND STREET MARKET</span> +</div> + +<p>As I shrank from doing what no other woman did, and, +as the business end of Chestnut Street did not offer me the +same temptation as Walnut, I never got to know it well,—in +fact I got to know it so little that my ignorance would +seem extraordinary in anybody save a Philadelphian, and +it remained as strange to me as the street of a foreign town. +I could not have said just where my Grandfather's Bank +was, not once during that period did I set my foot across +the threshold of the State House, unwilling as I am to confess +it. But perhaps I might as well make a full confession +while I am about it, for the truth will have to come out +sooner or later. Let me say then, disgraceful as I feel it +to be, that though I spent two years at least in the Third +Street house, with so much of the beauty of Philadelphia's +beautiful past at my door, it was not until some time afterwards,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +when we had gone to live up at Thirteenth and +Spruce, that I began to appreciate the beauty as well as +my folly in not having appreciated it sooner. St. Peter's +Church and the Pennsylvania Hospital I could not ignore, +many of my walks leading me past them. But I was +several years older before I saw Christ Church, inside or +out. The existence of the old Second Street Market was +unknown to me; had I been asked I no doubt would have +said that the Old Swedes Church was miles off; I was +unconscious that I was surrounded by houses of Colonial +date; I was blind to the meaning and dignity of great +gables turned to the street, and stately Eighteenth Century +doorways, and dormer windows, and old ironwork, +and a patchwork of red and black brick; I was indifferent +to the interest these things might have given to every step +I took at a time when, too often, every step seemed forlornly +barren of interest or its possibility. Into the old +Philadelphia Library on Fifth Street I did penetrate once +or twice, and once or twice sat in its quiet secluded alcoves +dipping into musty volumes: a mere accident it must have +been, my daily reading being provided for at the easy-going, +friendly, pleasantly dingy, much more modern +Mercantile Library in Tenth Street. But the memory +of these visits, few as they were, is one of the strongest +my Third Street days have left with me, and I think, or +I hope, I must have felt the charm of the old town if I +may not have +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realize</ins>d +that I did, for I can never look back<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +to myself as I was then without seeing it as the background +to all my comings and goings—a background that lends +colour to my colourless life.</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>I can understand my ignorance and blindness and indifference, +if I cannot forgive them. All my long eleven +years at the Convent I had had the virtue of obedience duly +impressed upon me, and, though there custom led me easily +into the temptation of disobedience, when I returned to +Philadelphia I was at first too frightened and bewildered +to defy Philadelphia's laws written and especially unwritten, +for in these I was immediately concerned. I was +the more bewildered because I had come away from the +Convent comfortably convinced of my own importance, +and it was disconcerting to discover that Philadelphia, so +far from sharing the conviction, dismissed me as a person of +no importance whatever. I had also my natural indolence +and moral cowardice to reckon with. I have never been +given to taking the initiative when I can avoid it and it is +one of my great grievances that, good and thorough American +as I am, I should have been denied my rightful share +of American go. Anyway, I did not have to stay long in +Philadelphia to learn for myself that the Philadelphia +law of laws obliged every Philadelphian to do as every +other Philadelphian did, and that every Philadelphian +was too much occupied in evading what was not the thing +in the present to bother to cultivate a sentiment for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +past. Moreover, I had to contend against what the Philadelphians +love to call the Philadelphia inertia, while all the +time they talk about it they keep giving substantial proofs +of how little reason there is for the talk. The Philadelphia +inertia only means that it is not good form in Philadelphia +to betray emotion on any occasion or under any circumstance. +The coolness, or indifference, of Philadelphians +at moments and crises of great passion and excitement has +always astonished the outsider. If you do not understand +the Philadelphia way, as I did not then, you take the Philadelphian's +talk literally and believe the beautiful Philadelphia +calm to be more than surface deep, as I did who had +not the sense as yet to see that, even if this inertia was +real, it was my business to get the better of it and to develop +for myself the energy I imagined my town and its +people to be without. I have often thought that the Philadelphia +calm is a little like the London climate that either +conquers you or leaves you the stronger for having conquered +it.</p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>If one of Philadelphia's unwritten laws closed my eyes +to what was most worth looking at when I took my walks +abroad, another, no less stringent, limited those walks to a +small section of the town. On the map Philadelphia might +stretch over a vast area with the possibility of spreading +indefinitely, but for social purposes it was shut in to the +East and the West by the Delaware and the Schuylkill,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +to the North and the South by a single line of the old +rhyming list of the streets: "Chestnut, Walnut, Spruce +and Pine." I have not the antiquarian knowledge to say +who drew that rigid line, or when what had been all right +for Washington and Provosts of the University and no +end of distinguished people became all wrong for ordinary +mortals—I have heard the line ridiculed, but never explained. +No geographical boundary has been, or could be, +more arbitrary, but there it was, there it is, and the +Philadelphian who crosses it risks his good name. Nor can the +stranger, though unwarned, disregard it with impunity. +I remember when I met Mrs. Alexander Gilchrist, the +first friend I made in London, and she told me the number +of the house away out North Twenty-second Street where +she lived for two years in Philadelphia, I had a moment of +Philadelphia uncertainty as to whether her literary distinction +could outbalance her social indiscretion. Philadelphia +never had a doubt, but was serenely unconscious of +her presence during her two years there. And yet she had +then edited and published, with the help of the Rossettis, +her husband's <i>Life of Blake</i> which had brought her fame +in England, and her +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'uptown' and 'up-town' were used in this text. This was retained.">up-town</ins> +house must have been one +of the most interesting to visit. Walt Whitman was a +daily guest and few American men of letters passed +through Philadelphia without finding their way to it. +Philadelphia, however, would scruple going to Heaven +were Heaven north of Market Street.</p> + +<p>It is an absurd prejudice, but I am not sure if I have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +got rid of it now or if I ever shall get rid of it, and when +I was too young to see its absurdity I would as soon have +questioned the infallibility of the Pope. It was decreed +that nobody should go north of Market or south of Pine; +therefore I must not go; the reason, probably, why I never +went to Christ Church—a pew had not been in my family +for generations to excuse my presence in North Second +Street—why I never, even by accident, passed the Old +Swedes or the Second Street Market. It was bad enough +to cross the line when I could not help myself. I am +amused now—though my sensitive youth found no amusement +in it—when I think of my annoyance because my +Great-Grandfather, on my Mother's side, old Ambrose +White whose summer home was in Chestnut Hill, lived not +many blocks from the Meeting House and the Christ +Church Burial Ground where Franklin lies, in one of those +fine old Arch Street houses in which Friends had lived for +generations since there had been Arch Street houses to live +in. Besides, Mass and Vespers in the Cathedral led me to +Logan Square, to my dismay that religion should lead +where it was as much as my reputation was worth to be +met. I have wondered since if it was as compromising +for the Philadelphian from north of Market Street to be +found in Rittenhouse Square.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs024.jpg" width="400" height="308" alt="FOURTH AND ARCH STREETS MEETING HOUSE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">FOURTH AND ARCH STREETS MEETING HOUSE</span> +</div> + +<p>Outwardly I could see no startling difference between +the forbidden Philadelphia and my Philadelphia—"there +is not such great odds, Brother Toby, betwixt good and +evil as the world imagines," I might have said with Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +Shandy had I known that Mr. Shandy said it or that there +was a Mr. Shandy to say anything so wise. The Philadelphia +rows of red brick houses, white marble steps, white +shutters below and green above, rows of trees shading +them, were much the same north of Market Street and +south of Pine, except that south of Pine the red brick +houses shrank and the white marble and white shutters +grew shabby, and north of Market their uniformity was +more often broken by brown stone fronts which, together +with the greater width of many of the streets, gave a +richer and more prosperous air than we could boast down +our way. But it was not for Philadelphians, of all people, +to question why, and it must have been two or three years +later, when I was less awed by Philadelphia, that I went +up town of my own free will and out of sheer defiance. +I can remember the time when an innocent visit to so harmless +a place as Girard College appeared to me in the light +of outrageous daring. That is the way in my generation +we were taught and +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +our duty in Philadelphia.</p> + +<p>My excursions to the suburbs, except to Torresdale, +were few, which was my loss for no other town's suburbs +are more beautiful, and they were not on Philadelphia's +Index. Time and the alien had not yet driven the Philadelphian +out to the Main Line as an alternative to "Chestnut, +Walnut, Spruce and Pine," but many had country +houses there; Germantown was popular, Chestnut Hill +and Torresdale were beyond reproach. My Father, however, +who cultivated most of Philadelphia's prejudices,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +was unexpectedly heterodox in this particular. He could +not stand the suburbs—poor man, he came to spending +suburban summers in the end—and of them all he held +Germantown most sweepingly in disfavour. I cannot +remember that he gave a reason for his dislike. It may be +that its grey-stone houses offended him as an infidelity to +Philadelphia's red brick austerity. But he could never +speak of it with patience and from him I got the idea that +it was the abyss of the undesirable. One of the biggest +surprises of my life was, when I came to look at it with +my own eyes, to find it as desirable a place as beauty and +history can make.</p> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<p>The shopping I had not the money to do would have +kept me within a more exclusive radius, for a shopping +expedition restricted the Philadelphian who had any respect +for herself to Chestnut Street between Eighth and +Fifteenth. Probably I was almost the only Philadelphian +who knew there were plenty of cheap stores in Second +Street, but that I bought the first silk dress I ever possessed +there was one of the little indiscretions I had the sense to +keep to myself. A bargain in Eighth Street might be disclosed +as a clever achievement, if not repeated too often. +The old Philadelphia name and the historic record of +Lippincott's, for generations among the most successful +Philadelphia publishers, would have permitted a periodical +excursion into Market Street, even if unlimited latitude,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +anyway, had not been granted to wholesale houses in the +choice of a street. The well-known reliability of Strawbridge +and Clothier might warrant certain purchases +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'uptown' and 'up-town' were used in this text. This was retained.">up-town</ins> +and a furniture dealer as reliable, whose name and +address I regret have escaped me, sanction the housekeeper's +penetrating still further north. But it was safer, +everything considered, to keep to Chestnut Street, and on +Chestnut Street to stores approved by long patronage—you +were hall-marked "common" if you did not, and the +wrong name on the inside of your hat or under the flap of +your envelope might be your social undoing. The self-respecting +Philadelphian would not have bought her +needles and cotton anywhere save at Mustin's, her ribbons +anywhere save at Allen's. She would have scorned the +visiting card not engraved by Dreka. She would have +gone exclusively to Bailey's or Caldwell's for her jewels +and silver; to Darlington's or Homer and Colladay's for +her gloves and dresses; to Sheppard's for her linen; to +Porter and Coates, after Lippincott's, for her books; to +Earle's for her pictures;—prints were such an exotic taste +that Gebbie and Barrie could afford to hide in Walnut +Street, and the collector of books such a rarity that Tenth, +or was it Ninth? was as good as any other street for the old +book store where I had so unpleasant an experience that I +could not well forget it though I have forgotten its proprietor's +name. A sign in the window said that old books +were bought, and one day, my purse as usual empty but +my heart full of hope, I carried there two black-bound,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +gilt-edged French books of the kind nobody dreams of +reading that I had brought home triumphantly as prizes +from the Convent: but I and my poor treasures were dismissed +with such contempt and ridicule that my spirit was +broken and I could not summon up pluck to carry them +to Leary's, in Ninth Street, who were more liberal even +than Charles Lamb in their definition, and to whom anything +printed and bound was a book to be bought and sold.</p> + +<p>If hunger overtook the shopper, she would have eaten +her oyster stew only at Jones's on Eleventh Street or +Burns's on Fifteenth; or if the heat exhausted her, she +would have cooled off on ice-cream only at Sautter's or +Dexter's, on soda-water only at Wyeth's or Hubbell's. +The hours for shopping were as circumscribed as the district. +To be seen on Chestnut Street late in the afternoon, +if not unpardonable, was certainly not quite the thing.</p> + + +<h3>VI</h3> + +<p>Shopping without money had no charm and could never +help to dispose of my interminable hours. The placid +beauty of the shopless streets was of a kind to appeal more +to age than youth. I wonder to this day at the time I +allowed to pass before I shook off my respect for Philadelphia +conventions sufficiently to relieve the dulness of +my life by straying from the Philadelphia beaten track. +The most daring break at first was a stroll on Sunday +afternoon over to West Philadelphia and to Woodland's. +Later, when, with a friend, I went on long tramps through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> +the Park, by the Wissahickon, to Chestnut Hill, it was +looked upon as no less unladylike on our part than the +new generation's cigarette and demand for the vote on +theirs. But if I did my duty, I was sadly bored by it. +Often I turned homeward with that cruel aching of the +heart the young know so well, longing for something, anything, +to happen on the way to interrupt, to disorganize, +to shatter to pieces the daily routine of life. I still shrink +from the sharp pain of those cool, splendid October days +when Philadelphia was aglow and quiveringly alive, and +with every breath of the brisk air came the desire to be up +and away and doing—but away where in Philadelphia?—doing +what in Philadelphia? I still shrink from the sharp +pain of the first langourous days of spring when every +Philadelphia back-yard was full of perfume and every +Philadelphia street a golden green avenue leading direct +to happiness could I have found the way along its bewildering +straightness.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs025.jpg" width="400" height="307" alt="JOHNSON HOUSE, GERMANTOWN" title="" /> +<span class="caption">JOHNSON HOUSE, GERMANTOWN</span> +</div> + +<p>If youth only knew! There was everywhere to go, +everything to do, every happiness to claim. Philadelphia +waited, the Promised Land of action and romance, had I +not been hide-bound by Philadelphia conventions, absorbed +in Philadelphia ideals, disdaining all others with the +intolerance of my years. According to these conventions +and ideals, there was but one adventure for the Philadelphia +girl who had finished her education and arrived at the +appointed age—the social adventure of coming out.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI: THE SOCIAL ADVENTURE</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>Let me say at once that I know no adventure is more +important for the Philadelphian, and that mine +was scarcely worth the name as these things go +in Philadelphia.</p> + +<p>It is the one adventure that should be roses all the way, +but for me it was next to no roses at all. To begin with, +I was poor. My Father had lost his money in the years of +upheaval following the Civil War and had never got it +back again. <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'nowadays' and 'now-a-days' were used in this text. This was retained.">Nowadays</ins> +this would not matter. A girl +of seventeen, when she comes home from school, can turn +round, find something to do, and support herself. She +could in the old days too, if she was thrown on her own +resources. I had friends no older than myself who taught, +or were in the Mint—that harbour of refuge for the young +or old Philadelphia lady in reduced circumstances. But +my trouble was that I was not supposed to be thrown on +my own resources. A Philadelphia father would have felt +the social structure totter had he permitted his daughter +to work as long as he was alive to work for her. When he +had many daughters and luck went against him, the advantage +of this attitude was less obvious to them than to +him. Exemplary as was the theory, which I applaud my +Father for acting up to since it happened to be his, it had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +its inconvenience when put into practice. To be guarded +from the hardship of labour by the devoted father did not +always put money into the daughter's pocket.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 310px;"> +<img src="images/gs026.jpg" width="310" height="400" alt="THE CUSTOMS HOUSE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE CUSTOMS HOUSE</span> +</div> + +<p>Had I been more at home in Philadelphia, my poverty +might not have stood so much in my light. A hundred +years before Gouverneur Morris had praised Philadelphia, +which in its respect for "virtuous poverty" he thought so +much more generous than other capitals where social +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'splendor' and 'splendour' were used in this text. This was retained.">splendour</ins> +was indispensable, and in this the town had not +changed. It was to Philadelphia's credit that a girl's social +success did not depend on the length of her dressmaker's +bill or the scale of her entertaining. More than one as poor +as I would have a different story to tell. But I suffered +from having had no social training or apprenticeship. The +Convent had been concerned in preparing me for society +in the next world, not in this, and I had stayed in the +Convent too long to make the many friendships that do +more than most things to launch a girl on her social career—too +long, for that matter, to know what society meant.</p> + +<p>It was a good thing that I did not know, did not +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realize</ins> +what was ahead of me, that I allowed myself to be led +like a Philadelphian to the slaughter, for a little experience +of society is good for everybody. Unless men are to live +like brutes—or like monks—they must establish some sort +of social relations, and if the social game is played at all, +it should be according to the rules. Nowhere are the rules +so rigorous as in Philadelphia, nowhere in America based +upon more inexorable, as well as dignified, traditions, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +I do not doubt that because of the stumbling blocks in +my path, I +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +more about them than the Philadelphia +girl whose path was rose-strewn. Were history my +mission, it would be amusing to trace these traditions to +their source—first through the social life of the Friends +who, however, are so exclusive that should this part of the +story ever be told, whether as romance or history, it must +come from the inside; and then, through the gaieties of the +World's People who flatter themselves they are as exclusive, +and who have the name for it, and whose exclusiveness +is wholesale license compared to that of the Friends:—through +the two distinct societies that have lived and +flourished side by side ever since Philadelphia was. But +my concern is solely with the gaieties as I, individually, +shared in them. Now that I have outlived the discomforts +of the experience, I can flatter myself that, in my small, +insignificant fashion, I was helping to carry on old and +fine traditions.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>The most serious of these discomforts arose from the +question of clothes, a terrifying question under the existing +conditions in the Third Street house, involving more +industrious dress-making upstairs in the third story front +bedroom than I cared about, and a waste of energies that +should have been directed into more profitable channels. +I sewed badly and was conscious of it. At the Convent, +except for the necessity of darning my stockings, I had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +been as free from this sort of toiling as a lily of the field, +and yet I too had gone arrayed, if hardly with the same +conspicuous success, and, in my awkward hands, the white +tarlatan—who wears tarlatan now?—and the cheap silk +from Second Street, which composed my coming out trousseau, +were not growing into such things of beauty as to +reconcile me to my new task.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 317px;"> +<img src="images/gs027.jpg" width="317" height="400" alt="UNDER BROAD STREET STATION AT FIFTEENTH STREET" title="" /> +<span class="caption">UNDER BROAD STREET STATION AT FIFTEENTH STREET</span> +</div> + +<p>As unpleasant were the preliminary lessons in dancing +forced upon me by my family when, in my pride of recent +graduation with honours, it offended me to be thought +by anybody in need of learning anything. One evening +every week during a few months, two or three friends +and cousins joined me in the Third Street parlour to be +drilled into dancing shape for coming out by Madame +Martin, the large, portly Frenchwoman who, in the same +crinoline and heelless, sidelaced shoes, taught generations +of Philadelphia children to dance. Even the Convent +could not do without her, though there, to avoid the sinfulness +of "round dances," we had, under her tuition, +waltzed and polkaed hand in hand, a method which my +family feared, if not corrected, might lead to my disgrace.</p> + +<p>I seem rather a pathetic figure as I see myself +obediently stitching and practising my steps without an +idea of the true meaning and magnitude of the adventure +I was getting ready for, or a chance of being set about it +in the right way. That right way would have been for +somebody to give a party or a dance or a reception especially +for me to come out at. But nobody among my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +friends and relations was obliging enough to accept the +responsibility, and at home my Father could not get so +far as to think of it. He would have needed too disastrous +a panic in Third Street to provide the money. Madame +Martin's lessons were already an extravagance and when, +on top of them, he had gone so far as to pay for my subscription +to the Dancing Class, and, in a cabless town, +for the carriage, fortunately shared with friends, to go to +it in, he had done all his bank account allowed him to do +to start me in life.</p> + +<p>It would be as useful to explain that the sun rises in +the east and sets in the west as to tell a Philadelphian that +the Dancing Class to which I refer was not of the variety +presided over by Madame Martin, but one to which Philadelphians +went to make use of just such lessons as I had +been struggling with for weeks. The origin of its name +I never knew, I never asked, the Dancing Class being one +of the Philadelphia institutions the Philadelphian took +for granted: then, as it always had been and still is, I believe, +a distinguished social function of the year. To +belong to it was indispensable to the Philadelphian with +social pretensions. It was held every other Monday, if I +remember—to think I should have a doubt on a subject +of such importance!-and the first of the series was given +so early in the winter that with it the season may be said +to have opened. Perhaps this fact helped my family to +decide that it was at the Dancing Class I had best make +my first appearance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>Youth is brave out of sheer ignorance. When the +moment came, it never occurred to me to hesitate or to +consider the manner of my introduction to the world. I +was content that my Brother should be my sole chaperon. +I rather liked myself in my home-made white tarlatan, feeling +very much dressed in my first low neck. I entertained +no misgivings as to the fate awaiting me, imagining it +as inevitable for a girl who was "out" to dance and have +a good time as for a bird to fly once its wings were spread. +If there were men to dance with, what more was needed?—it +never having entered into my silly head that it was +the girl's sad fate to have to wait for the man to ask her, +and that sometimes the brute didn't.</p> + +<p>I had to go no further than the dressing-room at the +Natatorium, where the Dancing Class then met, to learn +that society was not so simple as I thought. I have since +been to many strange lands among many strange people, +but never have I felt so much of a stranger as when I, a +Philadelphian born, doing conscientiously what Philadelphia +expected of me, was suddenly dropped down into +the midst of a lot of Philadelphia girls engaged in the +same duty. There was a freemasonry among them I could +not help feeling right away—the freemasonry that went +deeper than the chance of birth and the companionship of +duty—the freemasonry that came from their all having +grown up together since their perambulator days in Rittenhouse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +Square, having <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +to dance together, gone to +children's parties together, studied at Miss Irwin's school +together, spent the summer by the sea and in the mountains +together, in a word, from their having done everything +together until they were united by close bonds, the +closer for being undefinable, that I, Convent bred, with not +an idea, not a habit, not a point of view, in common with +them, could not break through. I never have got quite +over the feeling, though time has modified it. There is no +loneliness like the loneliness in a crowd, doubly so if all the +others in the crowd know each other. In the dressing-room +that first evening it was so overwhelming to discover myself +entirely out of it where I should have been entirely in, +that, without the stay and support of my friend, of old the +Prince of Denmark to my Ghost of Hamlet's Father, and +her sister, who had come out under more favourable conditions, +I do not think I could have gone a step further +in the great social adventure.</p> + +<p>As it was, with my heart in my boots, my hand trembling +on my Brother's arm, to the music of Hassler's band, +I entered the big bare hall of the Natatorium, and was out +with no more fuss and with nobody particularly excited +about it save myself.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/gs028.jpg" width="306" height="400" alt="THE PHILADELPHIA CLUB, THIRTEENTH AND WALNUT STREETS" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption">THE PHILADELPHIA CLUB<br /> +<span style="font-size: smaller;">THIRTEENTH AND WALNUT STREETS</span></span> +</div> + +<p>Things were a little better once away from the dressing-room. +My Brother was gay, had been out for two or +three years, knew everybody. If he could not introduce +me to the women he could introduce the men to me, and +the freemasonry existing among them from their all having<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +gone to the Episcopal Academy and the University of +Pennsylvania together, from their all having played cricket +and baseball and +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'football' and 'foot-ball' were used in this text. This was retained.">football</ins>, +or gone hunting together, from +their all belonging to the same clubs, was not the kind from +which I need suffer. Besides, those were the days when it +was easy for the Philadelphia girl to get to know men, to +make friends of them, without the Philadelphia gossip +pouncing upon her and the Philadelphia father asking +them their intentions—they could call upon her as often +as they liked and the Philadelphia father would retreat +from the front and back parlours, she could go out alone +with them and the Philadelphia father would not interfere, +knowing they had been brought up to see in themselves +her protectors, especially appointed to look out for her. +Some signs of change I might have discerned had I been +observant. More than the five o'clock tea affectation was +to come of the new coquetting with English fashions. +Enough had already come for me to know that if my +Brother now and then asked me to go to the theatre, it was +not for the pleasure of my company, but because a girl +he wanted to take would not accept if he did not provide a +companion for the sake of the proprieties. I am sure the +old Philadelphia way was the most sensible. Certainly +it was the most helpful if you happened to be a girl coming +out with next to no friends among the women in what +ought to have been your own set, with no chaperon to see +that you made them, and, at the Dancing Class, with no +hostess to keep a protecting eye on you but, instead,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +patronesses too absorbed in their triumphs to notice the +less fortunate straggling far behind.</p> + +<p>Well, anyway, if honesty forbids me to call myself a +success, it is a satisfaction to remember that I did not have +to play the wall-flower, which I would have thought the +most terrible disaster that could befall me. To have to +sit out the German alone would have been to sink to such +depths of shame that I never afterwards could have held +up my head. It was astonishing what mountains of despair +we made of these social molehills! I can still see the +sad faces of the girls in a row against the wall, with their +air of announcing to all whom it might concern: "Here +we are, at your service, come and rescue us!" But there +was another dreadful custom that did give me away only +too often. When a man asked a girl beforehand to dance +the German, Philadelphia expected him to send her a bunch +of roses: always the same roses—Boston buds, weren't they +called?—and from Pennock's on Chestnut Street if he +knew what was what. To take your place roseless was to +proclaim that you had not been asked until the eleventh +hour. It was not pleasant. However, if I went sometimes +without the roses, I always had the partner. I had even +moments of triumph as when, one dizzy evening before the +assembled Dancing Class, I danced with Willie White.</p> + +<p>It is not indiscreet to mention so great a person by +name and, in doing so, not presuming to use it so familiarly—he +was the Dancing Class, as far as I know, he had no +other occupation; and his name was <i>Willie</i>, not <i>William</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> +not <i>Mr.</i> White. Willie, as Philadelphians said it, was +a title of honour, like the Cœur de Lion or the Petit +Caporal bestowed upon other great men—the measure +of the estimate in which social Philadelphia held him. +Bean Nash in the Pump Room at Bath was no mightier +power than Willie White in the Dancing Class at the +Natatorium. He ruled it, and ruled it magnificently: an +autocrat, a tyrant, under whose yoke social Philadelphia +was eager to thrust its neck. What he said was law, whom +he approved could enter, whom he objected to was without +redress, his recognition of the Philadelphian's claims to +admission was a social passport. He saw to everything, +he led the German, and I do not suppose there was a girl +who, at her first Dancing Class her first winter, did not, +at her first chance, take him out in the German as her +solemn initiation. That is how I came to enjoy my +triumph, and I do not remember repeating it for he never +condescended to take me out in return. But still, I can +say that once I danced with Willie White at the Dancing +Class—And did I once see Shelley plain?</p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>There were other powers, as I was made quickly to +understand—not only the powers that all Biddles, Cadwalladers, +Rushes, Ingersolls, Whartons, in a word all +members of approved Philadelphia families were by Philadelphia +right, but a few who had risen even higher than +that splendid throng and were accepted as their leaders.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +It was not one of the most brilliant periods in the social +history of Philadelphia. Mrs. Rush had had no successor, +no woman presided over what could have been given the +name of Salon as she had. Even the Wistar parties, exclusively +for men, discontinued during the upheaval of +the Civil War, had not yet been revived. But, notwithstanding +the comparative quiet and depression, there were +a few shining social lights.</p> + +<p>Had I been asked in the year of my coming out who +was the greatest woman in the world, I should have +answered, without hesitation, Mrs. Bowie. She, too, may be +mentioned by name without indiscretion for she, too, has +become historical. She was far from beautiful at the date +to which I refer, she was no longer in her first youth, was +inclined to stoutness and I fear had not +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +how to fight +it as women who would be in the fashion must learn to-day. +She was not rich and the fact is worth recording, so characteristic +is it of Philadelphia. The names of leaders +of society in near New York usually had millions attached +to them, those there allowed to lead paid a solid price for +it in their entertaining. But Mrs. Bowie's power depended +upon her personal fascination—with family of course to +back it—which was said to be irresistible. And yet not to +know her was to be unknown. Intimacy with her was to +have arrived. At least a bowing acquaintance, an occasional +invitation to her house, was essential to success or +its dawning. She entertained modestly as far as I could +gather from my experience,—as far as I can now depend<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +on my memory—gave no balls, no big dinners; if there +were select little dinners, I was too young and insignificant +to hear of them. I never got farther than the afternoon +tea to which everybody was invited once every +winter, a comfortless crush in her small house, with +next to nothing to eat and drink as things to eat and drink +go according to the lavish Philadelphia standard. But that +did not matter. Nothing mattered except to be there, to +be seen there. I was tremendously pleased with myself +the first time the distinction was mine, though of my +presence in her house Mrs. Bowie was no doubt amiably +unconscious. I never knew her to recognize me out of it, +though I sometimes met her when she came informally to +see one of my Aunts who was her friend, or to give me the +smile at the Dancing Class that would have raised my +drooping spirits. The only notice she ever spared me +there was to express to my Brother—who naturally, +brother-like, made me uncomfortable by reporting it to +me—her opinion of my poor, unpretentious, home-made, +Second Street silk as an example of the absurdity of a +long train to dance in, which shows how completely she +had forgotten who I was.</p> + +<p>Her chief rival, if so exalted a personage could have a +rival, was Mrs. Connor, from whom also a smile, a recognition, +was equivalent to social promotion. Her fascination +did not have to be explained. She was an unqualified +beauty, though the vision I have retained is of beauty in +high-necked blue velvet and chinchilla, which I could not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> +have enjoyed at the Dancing Class or any evening party. +I <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realise</ins> +as I write that in the details of Philadelphia's +social history I would come out badly from too rigid an +examination.</p> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<p>To Mrs. Connor's I was never asked with or without +the crowd. But other houses were opened to me, other +invitations came, for, if I had not friends, my family had. +My white tarlatan and my Second Street silk had grown +shabby before the winter was half over. At many parties +I got to know what a delightful thing a Philadelphia party +was, and if I had gone to one instead of many I should +have known as well. Philadelphia had a standard for its +parties as for everything, and to deviate from this +standard, to attempt originality, to invent the "freak" +entertainments of New York, would have been excessively +bad form. The same card printed by Dreka requested the +pleasure of your company to the same Philadelphia house—the +Philadelphia hostess would not have stooped to invite +you to the Continental or the Girard, the LaPierre House +or the Colonnade, which were the Bellevue and the Ritz +of my day—where you danced in the same spacious front +and back parlours, with the same crash on the floor, to the +same music by Hassler's band: where you ate the same +Terrapin, Croquettes, Chicken Salad, Oysters, Boned +Turkey, Ice cream, little round Cakes with white icing on +top, and drank the same Fish-House Punch provided by +the same Augustine; where the same Cotillon began at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +the same hour with the same figures and the same favours +and the same partners; where there was the same dressing-room +in the second story front and the same Philadelphia +girls who froze me on my arrival and on my departure. +There was no getting away from the same people in Philadelphia. +That was the worst of it. The town was big +enough for a chance to meet different people in different +houses every evening in the week, but by that arbitrary +boundary of "Chestnut, Walnut, Spruce and Pine," it +has made itself socially into a village with the pettiness and +limitations of village life. I have never wondered that +Philadelphians are as cordial to strangers as everybody +who ever came to Philadelphia knows them to be—that +Philadelphia doors are as hospitable as Thackeray once described +them. Philadelphians have reason to rejoice and +make the most of it when occasionally they see a face they +have not been seeing regularly at every party they have +been to, and hear talk they have not listened to all their +lives.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/gs029.jpg" width="313" height="400" alt="THE NEW RITZ-CARLTON; THE FINISHING TOUCHES; THE +WALNUT STREET ADDITION HAS SINCE BEEN MADE" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption">THE NEW RITZ-CARLTON; THE FINISHING TOUCHES<br /> +<span style="font-size: smaller;">THE WALNUT STREET ADDITION HAS SINCE BEEN MADE</span></span> +</div> + +<p>Sometimes it was to the afternoon reception the card +engraved by Dreka invited me, and then again it was to +meet the same people and—in the barbarous mode of the +day—to eat the same Croquettes, Chicken Salad, Terrapin, +Boned Turkey, Ice-cream, and little round Cakes +with white icing on top, and to drink the same Punch from +Augustine's at five o'clock in the afternoon, and at least +risk digestion in a good cause. But rarely did the card +engraved by Dreka invite me to dinner, and I could not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +have been invited to anything I liked better. I have +always thought dinner the most civilized form of entertainment. +It may have been an entertainment Philadelphia +preferred to reserve for my elders, and, if I +am not mistaken, the most formal dinners, or dinners +with any pretence to being public, were then usually men's +affairs, just as the Saturday Club, and the Wistar parties +had been, and the Clover Club, and the Fish-House Club +were: from them women being as religiously excluded as +from the dinners of the City Companies in London, or +from certain monasteries in Italy and the +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Fast'">East</ins>. Indeed, +as I look back, it seems to me that woman's social presence +was correct only in private houses and at private gatherings. +Nothing took away my breath so completely on +going back to Philadelphia after my long absence as the +Country Clubs where men and women now meet and share +their amusements, if it was not the concession of a dining-room +to women by a Club like the Union League that, of +old, was in my esteem as essentially masculine as the Philadelphia +Lady thought the sauces at Blossom's Hotel in +Chester.</p> + +<p>But there were plenty of other things to do which I did +with less rather than more thoroughness. I paid midday +visits, wondering why duty should have set me so irksome +a task. I received with friends on New Year's Day—an +amazing day when men paid off their social debts and +made, at some houses, their one call of the year, joining +together by twos and threes and fours to charter a carriage,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> +or they would never have got through their round, +armed with all their courage either to refuse positively or +to accept everywhere the glass of Madeira or Punch and +the usual masterpiece from Augustine's. It was another +barbarous custom, but an old Philadelphia custom, and +Philadelphia has lost so many old customs that I could +have wished this one spared. I went to the concerts of +the Orpheus Club. I went to the Opera and the Theatre +when I was asked, which was not often. I passed with the +proper degree of self-consciousness the Philadelphia Club +at Thirteenth and Walnut, the same row of faces always +looking out over newspapers and magazines from the +same row of windows. And I did a great many things +that were pleasant and a great many more that were unpleasant, +conscientiously rejecting nothing social I was +told to do when the opportunity to do it came my way. +But it all counted for nothing weighed in the balance with +the one thing I did not do—I never went to the Assembly.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII: THE SOCIAL ADVENTURE: THE ASSEMBLY</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>I am too good a Philadelphian to begin to talk about +the Assembly in the middle of a chapter. It holds +a place apart in the social life of Philadelphia of +which annually it is the supreme moment, and in my record +of my experiences of this life, however imperfect, I can +treat it with no less consideration. It must have a chapter +apart.</p> + +<p>To go to the Assembly was the one thing of all others +I wanted to do, not only on the general principle that the +thing one wants most is the thing one cannot have, but +because to go to the Assembly was the thing of all others +I ought to have done. There could be no question of that. +You were not really out in Philadelphia if you did not +go; only the Friends could afford not to. And Americans +from other towns felt much the same way about +it, they felt they were not anybody if they were not invited, +and they moved heaven and earth for an invitation, +and prized it, when received, as highly as a pedigree. A +few honoured guests were always at the Assembly.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 323px;"> +<img src="images/gs030.jpg" width="323" height="400" alt="THE HALL, STENTON" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE HALL, STENTON</span> +</div> + +<p>Philadelphians who are not on the Assembly list may +pretend to laugh at it, to despise it, to sneer at the snobbishness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> +of people who endeavour to draw a social line +in a country where everybody is as good as everybody else +and where those on the right side may look down but those +on the wrong will not be induced to look up. And not one +among those who laugh and sneer would not jump at the +chance to get in, were it given them, at the risk of being +transformed into snobs themselves. For the Assembly +places the Philadelphian as nothing else can. It gives him +what the German gets from his quarterings or the Briton +from an invitation to Court. The Dancing Class had its +high social standard, it required grandfathers as credentials +before admission could be granted, the archives +of the Historical Society of +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Pensylvania'">Pennsylvania</ins> +supplied no more +authoritative assurance of Philadelphia respectability than +its subscription list, but the Dancing Class was lax in +its standard compared to the Assembly. I am not sure +what was the number, what the quality, of ancestors the +Assembly exacted, but I know that it was as inexorable in +its exactions as the Council of Ten. It would have been +easier for troops of camels to pass through the eye of a +needle than for one Philadelphian north of Market Street +to get through the Assembly door. I am told that matters +are worse to-day when Philadelphia society has increased +in numbers until new limits must be set to the Assembly +lest it perish of its own unwieldiness. The applicants must +produce not only +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'forefathers' and 'fore-fathers' were used in this text. This was retained.">forefathers</ins> +but fathers and mothers on +the list, and the Philadelphian whose name was there more +than a century and a half ago cannot make good his rights<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> +if his parents neglected to establish theirs. And to be refused +is not merely humiliation, but humiliation with Philadelphia +for witness, and the misery and shame that are the +burden of the humiliated.</p> + +<p>It is foolish, I admit, society is too light a matter to +suffer for; it is cruel, for the social wound goes deep. But +were it ten times more foolish, ten times more cruel, I +would not have it otherwise. Philadelphians preserve their +State House, their Colonial mansions and churches; why +should they not be as careful of their Assembly, since it +has as historic a background and as fine Colonial and +Revolutionary traditions? They are proud of having their +names among those who signed the Declaration of Independence; +why should they not take equal—or greater—pride +in figuring among the McCalls and Willings and +Shippens and Sims and any number of others on the first +Assembly lists, since these are earlier in date? Besides, +to such an extremity have the changes of the last quarter +of a century driven the Philadelphian that he must make +a good fight for survival in his own town. When I think +of how mere wealth is taking possession of "Chestnut, +Walnut, Spruce and Pine," how +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'uptown' and 'up-town' were used in this text. This was retained.">uptown</ins> +is marrying into +it, how the Jew and the alien are forcing their way in, I +see in loyalty to the traditions of the Assembly of Philadelphian's +strongest defence of the social rights which are +his by inheritance. Should he let go, what would there be +for him to catch on to again?</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 304px;"> +<img src="images/gs031.jpg" width="304" height="400" alt=""PROCLAIM LIBERTY THROUGHOUT ALL THE LAND UNTO ALL THE INHABITANTS THEREOF"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"PROCLAIM LIBERTY THROUGHOUT ALL THE LAND UNTO ALL THE INHABITANTS THEREOF"</span> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + +<p>It would be different if what Philadelphia was getting +in exchange were finer, or as fine. But it is not. The +old exclusiveness, with its follies, was better, more amusing, +than the new tendency to do away with everything +that gave Philadelphia society its character. It was the +charm and the strength of Philadelphia society that it had +a character of its own and was not just like Boston or New +York or Baltimore society. Nobody, however remote was +their mission from social matters, could visit Philadelphia +without being impressed by this difference, whether it was +to discover, with John Adams, that Philadelphians had +their particular way of being a happy, elegant, tranquil, +polite people, or, with so unlikely an observer as Matthew +Arnold, that "the leading families in Philadelphia were +much thought of," and that Philadelphia names saying +nothing to an Englishman said everything to every American. +Who you were counted in Philadelphia, as what +you knew in Boston, or what you were worth in New +York, and there was not an American of old who did not +accept the fact and respect it. Philadelphia society clung +to the Philadelphia surface of tranquillity, of untroubled +repose whatever might be going on beneath it, and in my +time I would not like to say how disturbing and agitating +were the scandals and intrigues that were said to be going +on. They were rarely made public. It was not in Philadelphia +as in London where next to everybody you meet +has been or is about to be divorced, though it might be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> +that next to everybody you met was not making it a +practice to keep to the straight and narrow path, to be +as innocent as everybody looked. Logan Square could +have told tales, if the Divorce Court could not.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs032.jpg" width="400" height="318" alt="BED ROOM, STENTON, THE HOME OF JAMES LOGAN" title="" /> +<span class="caption">BED ROOM, STENTON, THE HOME OF JAMES LOGAN</span> +</div> + +<p>But now Philadelphia has strayed from its characteristic +exclusiveness; gone far to get rid of even the air of tranquillity. +With the modern "Peggy Shippen" and "Sally +Wister" alert to give away its affairs in the columns of the +daily paper, it could not keep its secrets to itself if it +wanted to. And it does not seem to want to—that is the +saddest part of the whole sad transformation. It rather +likes the world outside to know what it is doing and, worse, +it takes that world as its model. Its aim apparently is to +show that it can be as like every other town as two peas, +so that, drinking tea to music at the Bellevue, dancing at +the Ritz, lunching and dining and playing golf and polo +at the Country Clubs, the visitor can comfortably forget +he is not at home but in Philadelphia. The youth +of Philadelphia have become eager to desert the Episcopal +Academy and the University for Groton or St. Paul's, +Harvard or Yale, in order that they may be trained to be +not Philadelphians but, as they imagine, men of the world, +forgetting the distinction there has hitherto been in being +plain Philadelphians. At the moment when in far older +towns of Europe people are striving to recover their +character by reviving local costumes, language, and customs, +Philadelphians are deliberately throwing theirs away +with their old traditions. The Assembly is one of their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> +few rare possessions left, and strict as they are with it in +one way, in another they are playing fast and loose with +it, holding it, as if it were a mere modern dance, at a +fashionable hotel.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>If I now regret, as I do, never having gone to the +Assembly, it is because of all that it represents, all that +makes it a classic. But at the time, my regret, though as +keen, was because of more personal reasons. I could have +borne the historic side of my loss with equanimity, it was +the social side of it that broke my heart. I have had many +bad quarters of an hour in my life, but few as poignant as +that which followed the appearance at our front door of +the <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'colored' and 'coloured' were used in this text. This was retained.">coloured</ins> +man who distributed the cards for the Assembly—far +too precious to be trusted to the post—and +who came to leave one for my Brother. It was an injustice +that oppressed me with a sense of my wrongs as a woman +and might have set me window-smashing had window-smashing +as a protest been invented. Why should the +Assembly be so much easier for men? My Brother had +but to put on the dress suit he had worn it did not matter +how many years, and as he was, like every other American +young man, at work and an independent person altogether—a +millionaire I saw in him—the price of the card in an +annual subscription was his affair and nobody else's. But, +in my case the price was not my affair. I had not a cent +to call my own, I was not at work, I was denied the right<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> +to work, and, the Assembly coming fairly late in the season, +my white tarlatan and Second Street silk showed wear +and tear that unfitted them for the most important social +function of the winter. Philadelphia women dressed +simply, it is true; that used to be one of the ways the +Quaker influence showed itself; they boasted then that +their restraint in dress distinguished them from other +American women. But simplicity does not mean cheapness +or indifference. The Friends took infinite pains with +their soft brown and silvery grey silks, with their delicate +fichus and Canton shawls. The well-dressed Philadelphia +woman knows what she has to pay for the elegance +of her simplicity. And the Assembly has always called for +the finest she could achieve, from the day when Franklin +was made to feel the cost to him if his daughter was to have +what she needed to go out "in decency" with the Washingtons +in Philadelphia.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs033.jpg" width="400" height="304" alt="THE TUNNEL IN THE PARK" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE TUNNEL IN THE PARK</span> +</div> + +<p>I had the common sense to understand my position and +not to be misled by the poverty-stricken, but irresistible +Nancies and Dollies who were enjoying a vogue in the +novels of the day and who encircled empty bank accounts +and big families with the halo of romance. To read about +the struggles with poverty of the irresistible young heroine +might be amusing, but I had no special use for them as a +personal experience. It would have been preposterous for +me to think for a moment that, without a decent gown, +I could go to the Assembly and, to do myself justice, I did +not think it. But by this time I knew what coming out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> +and being out meant and, therefore, I appreciated the +social drawback it must be for me not to be able to go. It +explained, as nothing hitherto had, how far I was from +being caught up in the whirl, and it is only the whirl that +keeps one going in society—that makes society a delightful +profession, and I think I +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realize</ins>d +this truth better than the +people so extravagantly in the Philadelphia whirl as to have +no time to think about it. All that winter I never got +to the point of being less concerned as to where the next +invitation was to come from than as to how I was to accept +all that did come. There is no use denying that I was disappointed +and suffered from the disappointment. One +pays a heavier price for the first foolish illusion lost than +for all the others put together, no matter how serious they +are.</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>When the season was over, I had as little hope of keeping +up in other essential ways. If society then adjourned +from Philadelphia because the heat made it impossible to +stay at home, it was only to start a new Philadelphia on +the porch of Howland's Hotel at Long Branch or, as it +was just then beginning to do, at Bar Harbor and in the +camps of the Adirondacks, or, above all, at Narragansett. +"It may be accepted as an incontrovertible truth," +Janvier says in one of his Philadelphia stories, "that a +Philadelphian of a certain class who missed coming to the +Pier for August would refuse to believe, for that year at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +least, in the alternation of the four seasons; while an enforced +absence from that damply delightful watering-place +for two successive summers very probably would +lead to a rejection of the entire Copernican system." If +Philadelphians went abroad, which was much more exceptional +then than now, it was to meet each other. I know +hotels in London to-day where, if you go in the afternoon, +it is just like an afternoon reception in +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Philadephia'">Philadelphia</ins>, and +hotels in Paris where at certain seasons you find nobody +but Philadelphians talking Philadelphia, though the Philadelphian +has not disappeared who does not want to travel +because he finds Philadelphia good enough for him. And +it has always been like that.</p> + +<p>But I could not follow Philadelphia society in the +summer time any more than I could go with it to the +Assembly in the winter. I had reason to consider myself +fortunate if I travelled as far as Mount Airy or Chestnut +Hill out of the red brick oven Philadelphia used to be—is +now and ever shall be!—from June to September. It was +an event if I got off with the crowd—the linen-dustered, +wilting-collared crowds; surely we are not so demoralized +by the heat +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'nowadays' and 'now-a-days' were used in this text. This was retained.">nowadays</ins>?—to +Cape May or Atlantic City, to +enjoy the land breeze blowing, from over the Jersey +swamps, clouds of mosquitoes before it so that nobody +could stir out of doors without gloves and a veil. These, +however, were not the summer joys society demanded of +me. The further I went into the social game, the less I +got from it, and I had decided that for the poor it was not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> +worth the candle at the end of the first year, or was it the +second? That I should be uncertain shows how little my +heart was in the business of going out.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs034.jpg" width="400" height="301" alt="THE BOAT HOUSES ON THE SCHUYLKILL" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE BOAT HOUSES ON THE SCHUYLKILL</span> +</div> + +<p>I did not necessarily give up every amusement because +I did not go out. In fact, I cannot recall a dance that +amused me as much as many a boating party on the Schuylkill +in the gold of the June afternoon, or many a walking +party through the Park in the starlit summer night. There +also remained, had I chosen, the staid entertainment of the +women who, for one reason or other, had retired from the +gayer round, and whose amusements consisted of more +intimate receptions, teas, without number, sewing societies. +And it was the period when Philadelphia was waking up +to the charms of the higher education for women,—to the +dissipations of "culture." I had friends who filled their +time by studying for the examinations Harvard had at last +condescended to allow them to pass, or try to pass; others +found their sober recreation by qualifying themselves as +teachers and teaching in a large society formed to impart +learning by correspondence: all these women keeping their +occupation to themselves as much as possible, not wishing +to make a public scandal in Philadelphia which had not +accustomed itself to the spectacle of women working unless +compelled to;—all this quite outside of the University +set, which must have existed, if I did not know it, as the +Bryn Mawr set exists to-day, but which, as far as my +experience went, was then never heard of except by the +fortunate and privileged few who belonged to it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> + +<p>But this new amusement required effort, and experience +had not made me in love with the amusement that had +to be striven for, that had to be paid for by exertion of any +kind. There was an interval when Philadelphia would +have been searched in vain for another idler as confirmed +as I. Having found nothing to do, I proceeded to do it +with all my might. I stood in no need of the poet's command +to lean and loaf at my ease, though I am afraid +I leaned and loafed so well as to neglect the other half +of his precept and to forget to invite my soul. To those +years I now look back as to so much good time lost in a +working life all +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'to'">too</ins> +short at the best.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII: A QUESTION OF CREED</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>I may not have understood at the time, but I must +have been vaguely conscious that if so often I felt +myself a stranger in my native town, it was not only +because of the long years I had been shut up in boarding-school, +but because that boarding-school happened to be a +Convent.</p> + +<p>There were schools in Philadelphia and schools out of +it as useful as Rittenhouse Square in laying the foundation +for profitable friendships. Miss Irwin's furnished +almost as good social credentials as a Colonial Governor in +the family. But a Philadelphia Convent did the other +thing as successfully. It was not the Convent as a Convent +that was objected to. In Paris, it could lend distinction: +the fact that, at the mature age of six, I spent a year +at Conflans, might have served me as a social asset. In +Louisiana, or Maryland, a Philadelphia girl could see its +door close upon her, and not despair of social salvation. +Everything depended upon where the Convent was. In +some places, it had a social standing, in others it had none, +and Philadelphia was one of the others. In France, in +Louisiana, in Maryland, to be a Catholic was to be at the +top of the social scale, approved by society; in Pennsylvania, +it was to be at the bottom, despised by society.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> + +<p>This was another Philadelphia fact I accepted on faith. +It was not until I began to think about Philadelphia that +I saw how consistent Philadelphians were in their inconsistency. +Their position in the matter was what their past +had made it, and the inconsistency is in their greater liberality +to-day. For Pennsylvania has never been Catholic, +has never had an aristocratic Catholic tradition like England: +to the Friends there, all the aristocracy of the traditional +kind belongs. The people—the World's People—who +rushed to Pennsylvania to secure for themselves the +religious liberty William Penn offered indiscriminately to +everybody, found they could not enjoy it if Catholics were +to profit by it with them. They had not been there any time +when, as one of the early Friends had the wit to see and to +say, they "were surfeited with liberty," and the Friends, +who refused to all sects alike the privilege of expressing +their religious fervour in wood piles for witches and prison +cells for heretics, could not succeed in depriving them of +their healthy religious prejudice which, they might not +have been able to explain why, concentrated itself upon the +Catholic. Episcopalians approved of a doctrine of freedom +that meant they could build their own churches where +they would. Presbyterians and Baptists objected so little +to each other that, for a while, they could share the same +pulpit. Moravians put up their monasteries where it +suited them best. Mennonites took possession of Germantown. +German mystics were allowed to search in peace +for the Woman in White and wait hopefully for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> +Millennium on the banks of the Wissahickon. Later on +Whitefield set the whole town of Philadelphia to singing +psalms, and Philadelphia refrained from interfering with +what must have been an intolerable nuisance. Even Jews +were welcome—their names are among early legislators +and on early Assembly lists. Catholics, alone, they all +agreed, had no right to any portion of Penn's gift, and +popular opinion is often stronger than the law. Whatever +ill will they had to spare from the Catholics, they reserved +for the Friends to whom they owed everything—if Pennsylvania +was "a dear Pennsylvania" to Penn, a good part +of the blame lay with the "drunken crew of priests" and +the "turbulent churchmen" whom he denounced in one +of those letters to Logan, which are among the saddest +ever written and published to the world.</p> + +<p>After religious passions had run their course, the +religious prejudice against the Catholic was handed down +as social prejudice, which was all it was in my day when +Philadelphians, who would question the social standing of +a Catholic in Philadelphia simply because he was a Catholic, +could accept him without question in the Catholic town +of Baltimore or New Orleans simply because he was one. +The Catholic continued to pay a heavy price socially for his +religion in Philadelphia where it was not the thing to be a +Catholic, where it never had been the thing, where it got to +be less the thing as successive Irish emigrations crowded +the Catholic churches. I fancy at the period of which I +am writing Philadelphians, if asked, would have said that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> +Catholicism was for Irish servants—for the illiterate. I +remember a book called <i>Kate Vincent</i> I used to read at a +Protestant Uncle's, where it may purposely have been +placed in my way. Does anybody else remember it?—a +story of school life with a heroine of a school girl who, in +the serene confidence of her sixteen or seventeen summers, +refuted all the learned Doctors of the Church by convicting +a poor little Irish slavey of ignorance for praying to the +Blessed Virgin and the Saints. I think I must have forgotten +it with many foolish books for children read in my +childhood had not Kate Vincent been so like Philadelphians +in her calm superiority, though, fortunately, Philadelphians +did not share her proselytising fervour. They +went to the other extreme of lofty indifference and for +them the Catholic churches in their town did not exist any +more than the streets of little two-story houses south of +Pine, a region into which they would not have thought of +penetrating except to look up somebody who worked for +them.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>I might have +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +as much during my holidays at +my Grandfather's had I been given to reflection during my +early years. My Father was a convert with the convert's +proverbial ardour. He had been +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'baptised' and 'baptized' were used in this text. This was retained.">baptised</ins> +in the Convent +chapel with my Sister and myself—I was eight years old +at the time—and many who were present declared it the +most touching ceremony they had ever seen. However, to +the family, who had not seen it, it was anything but touching.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> +They were all good members of the Episcopal +Church and had been since they landed in Virginia; moreover, +one of my Father's brothers was an Episcopal clergyman +and Head Master of the Episcopal Academy, Philadelphia's +bed-rock of religious respectability. The baptism +was only conditional, for the Catholic Church baptizes +conditionally those who have been +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'baptised' and 'baptized' were used in this text. This was retained.">baptized</ins> +in any church +before, but even so it must have been trying to them as a +precaution insolently superfluous. I do not remember that +anything was ever said, or suggested, or hinted. But there +was an undercurrent of disapproval that, child as I was, I +felt, though I could not have put it into words. One thing +plain was that when we children went off to our church +with my Father, we were going where nobody else in my +Grandfather's house went, except the servants, and that, +for some incomprehensible reason, it was rather an odd +sort of thing for us to do, making us different from most +people we knew in Philadelphia.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 310px;"> +<img src="images/gs035.jpg" width="310" height="400" alt="THE PULPIT, ST. PETER'S" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE PULPIT, ST. PETER'S</span> +</div> + +<p>Nor had I the chance to lose sight of this difference +at the Convent. The education I was getting there, when +not devoted to launching my soul into Paradise, was preparing +me for the struggle against the temptations of the +world which, from all I heard about it, I pictured as a +horrible gulf of evil yawning at the Convent gate, ready +to swallow me up the minute that gate shut behind me. +To face it was an ordeal so alarming in anticipation that +there was an interval when I convinced myself it would be +infinitely safer, by becoming a nun, not to face it at all.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> +If I stopped to give the world a name, it was bound to +be Philadelphia, the place in which I was destined to live +upon leaving the Convent. I knew that it was Protestant, +as we often prayed for the conversion of its people, I the +harder because they included my relations who if not converted +could, my catechism taught me, be saved only so +as by the invincible ignorance with which I hardly felt it +polite to credit them. To what other conclusion could I +come, arguing logically, than that Philadelphia was the +horrible gulf of evil yawning for me, and that in this gulf +Protestants swarmed, scattering temptation along the path +of the Catholic who walked alone among them?—an idea +of Philadelphia that probably would have surprised nobody +more than the nuns who were training me for my +life of struggle in it.</p> + +<p>The gulf of the world did not seem so evil once it +swallowed me up, but that socially the Catholic walked in +it alone, there could be no mistake. When eventually I +left school and began going out on my modest scale, I +could not fail to see that the people I met in church were +not, as a rule, the people I met at the Dancing Class, or +at parties, or at receptions, or on that abominable round of +morning calls, and this was the more surprising because +Philadelphians of the "Chestnut, Walnut, Spruce and +Pine" set were accustomed to meeting each other wherever +they went. Except for the small group of those +Philadelphia families of French descent with French +names who were not descendants of the Huguenots, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +here and there a convert like my Father, and an occasional +native Philadelphian who, unaccountably, had always been +a Catholic, the congregation, whether I went to the +Cathedral or St. John's, to St. Joseph's or St. Patrick's, +was chiefly Irish, as also were the priests when they were +not Italians.</p> + +<p>Fashion sent the Philadelphian to the Episcopal +Church. It could not have been otherwise in a town as +true to tradition as Philadelphia had not ceased to be in +my young days. No sooner had Episcopalians settled in +Philadelphia than, by their greater grandeur of dress and +manner, they showed the greater social aspirations they +had brought with them from the other side—the Englishman's +confidence in the social superiority of the Church of +England to all religion outside of it. Presbyterians are +said to have had a pretty fancy in matters of wigs and +powdered and frizzled hair, which may also have been +symbolic, for they followed a close fashionable second. +Baptists and Methodists, on the contrary, affected to +despise dress and, while I cannot say if the one fact has +anything to do with the other, I knew fewer Baptists and +Methodists than Catholics. By my time the belief that no +one could be "a gentleman" outside the Church of England, +or its American offshoot, was stronger than ever, and +fashion required a pew at St. Mark's or Holy Trinity or +St. James's, if ancient lineage did not claim one at St. +Peter's or Christ Church; though old-fashioned people +like my Grandfather and Grandmother might cling blamelessly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> +to St. Andrew's which was highly respectable, if not +fashionable, and new-fashioned people might brave criticism +with the Ritualists at St. Clement's. As for Catholics, +a pew down at St. Joseph's in Willing's Alley or, worse +still, up town at the Cathedral in Logan Square, put them +out of the reckoning, at a hopeless disadvantage socially, +however better off they might be for it spiritually. That +the Cathedral was in Logan Square was in itself a social +offence of a kind that society could not tolerate. At the +correct churches every function, every meeting, every +Sunday-school, every pious +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'reunion' and 're-union' were used in this text. This was retained.">re-union</ins>, +as well as every service, +became a fashionable duty; and at the church door +after service on Sunday, a man with whom one had danced +the night before might be picked up to walk on Walnut +Street with, which was a social observance only less indispensable +than attendance at the Assembly and the Dancing +Class.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 311px;"> +<img src="images/gs036.jpg" width="311" height="400" alt="THE CATHEDRAL, LOGAN SQUARE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE CATHEDRAL, LOGAN SQUARE</span> +</div> + +<p>I recall the excitement of girls of my age, their feeling +that they had got to the top of everything, the first time +they took this sacramental walk, if not with a man which +was the crowning glory, at least with a woman who was +prominent, or successful, in society. But I believe I could +count the times I joined in the Walnut Street procession +on Sunday morning. As long as I lived in Third Street, +my usual choice of a church lay between St. Joseph's, the +Jesuit church in Willing's Alley with its air of retirement, +and St. Mary's on Fourth Street, where the orphans used +to come from Seventh and Spruce and sometimes sing an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +anthem that, for any save musical reasons, I delighted in, +and where we had a pew. After we moved from Third +Street, our pew was at the Cathedral, more distinguished +from the clerical standpoint, for there we sat under the +Bishop. No matter which our church, High Mass was +long: I could not have got to the appointed part of Walnut +Street in time, had I found at the door the companion to +go there with me. There was nothing to do but to walk +home alone or sedately at my Father's side, and one's +Father, however correct he might be under other circumstances, +was not the right person for these occasions. On +Sundays I could not conceal from myself that I was +socially at a discount. The reflection that this was where +I, as a Catholic, scored, should have consoled me, for if the +Episcopalian was performing a social duty when he went +to church, I, as a Catholic, was making a social sacrifice, +and sacrifice of some sort is of the essence of religion.</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>If I could but have taken the trouble to be interested, +it must also have occurred to me to wonder why St. Joseph's, +where I went so often, was hidden in an obscure +alley. In Philadelphia, the town of straight streets +crossing each other at right angles, it is not easy for a +building of the kind to keep out of sight. But not one man +in a hundred, not one in a thousand, who, passing along +Third Street, looked up Willing's Alley, +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'dreamt' and 'dreamed' were used in this text. This was retained.">dreamt</ins> for a +minute that somewhere in that alley, embedded in a network<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> +of brokers' and railroad offices, carefully concealing +every trace of itself, was a church with a large congregation. +Most churches in Philadelphia, as everywhere, like +to display themselves prominently with an elaborate +façade, or a lofty steeple, or a green enclosure, or a graveyard +full of monuments. St. Peter's, close by, fills a +whole block. Christ Church stands flush with the pavement. +The simplest Meeting-House, by the beautiful +trees that overshadow it or the high walls that enclose it +or the bit of green at its door, will not let the passer-by +forget it. But St. Joseph's, evidently, did not want to be +seen, did not want to be remembered; evidently hesitated to +show that its doors were wide and hospitably open to all +the world in the beautiful fashion of the Catholic Church. +There was something furtive about it, an air of mystery, +it was almost as if one were keeping a clandestine appointment +with religion when one turned from the street into +the humble alley, and from the alley into the silence of the +sanctuary.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 302px;"> +<img src="images/gs037.jpg" width="302" height="400" alt="CHRIST CHURCH, FROM SECOND STREET" title="" /> +<span class="caption">CHRIST CHURCH, FROM SECOND STREET</span> +</div> + +<p>Perhaps I thought less about this mysterious aloofness +because, once in the church, I felt so much at home. I do +not mind owning now, though I would not have owned it +then for a good deal, that after my return from the Convent, +I had the uncomfortable feeling of being a stranger +not only in my town, but in my family. I had been in the +Convent eleven years and until this day when I look back +to my childhood, it is the Convent I remember as home. +St. Joseph's seemed a part of the Convent, therefore of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> +home, that had strayed into the town by mistake. In some +ways it was not like the Convent, greatly to my discomfort. +The chapel there was dainty in detail, exquisitely kept, +the altars fresh with flowers from the Convent garden, and +for congregation the nuns and the girls modestly and demurely +veiled. But nothing was dainty about St. Joseph's,—men +are as untidy in running a church as in keeping a +house—it was not well kept, the flowers were artificial and +tawdry, and the congregation was largely made up of +shabby old Irishwomen. The priests—Jesuits—were +mostly Italian, with those unpleasant habits of Italian +priests that are a shock to the convent-bred American when +she first goes to Italy. They had, however, the virtue of +old friends, their faces were familiar, I had known them +for years at the Convent which they had frequently visited +and where, by special grace, they had refrained from some +of the unpleasant habits that offended me at St. Joseph's.</p> + +<p>There was Father de Maria, tall, thin, with a wonderful +shock of white hair, a fine ascetic face and a kindly +smile, not adapted to shine in children's society—too much +of a scholar I fancied though I may have been wrong—and +with an effect of severity which I do not think he +meant, but which had kept me at a safe distance when he +came to see us at Torresdale. But he had come, I could +not remember the time when I had not known him, and +that was in his favour.</p> + +<p>There was Father Ardea, a small, shrinking, dark +man, from whom also it was more comfortable to keep at a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> +safe distance, so little had he to say and such a trick of +looking at you with an "Eh? Eh?" of expectation, as if +he relied upon you to supply the talk he had not at his own +command. But I could have forgiven him worse, so +pleasant a duty did he make of confession. His penances +were light and his only comment was "Eh? Eh? my +child? But you didn't mean it! You didn't mean it!" +until I longed to accuse myself of the Seven Deadly Sins +with the Unpardonable Sin thrown in, just to see if he +would still assure me that I didn't mean it.</p> + +<p>There was Father Bobbelin—our corruption I fancy of +Barbelin—a Frenchman, short and fat, sandy-haired, with +a round smiling face: the most welcome of all. He was +always very snuffy, and always ready to hand round his +snuff-box if talk languished when he went out to walk +with us, which I liked better than Father Ardea's embarrassing +"Eh? Eh?" It was to Father Bobbelin an +inexhaustible joke, and the only other I knew him to +venture upon resulted in so unheard-of a breach of discipline +that ever after we saw less of him and his snuff-box. +He was walking with us down Mulberry Avenue +one afternoon, the little girls clustered about him as they +were always sure to be, and the nun in charge a little +behind with the bigger, more sedate girls. When we got +to the end of the Avenue, the carriage gate leading straight +out into the World was open as it had never been before, +as it never was again. Father Bobbelin's fat shoulders +shook with laughter. He opened the gate wider. "Now,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> +children," he said, "here's your chance. Run for it!" +And we did, we ran as if for our lives, though no children +could have loved their school better or wanted less to get +away from it. One or two ran as far as the railroad, the +most adventurous crossed it, and were making full tilt +for the river before all were caught and brought back and +sent to bed in disgrace. After that Father Bobbelin +visited us only in our class-room.</p> + +<p>And there were other priests whose names escape me, +but not their home-like faces. Now and then Jesuits who +gave Missions and who had conducted the retreats at the +Convent, appeared at St. Joseph's,—Father Smarius, the +huge Dutchman, so enormous they used to tell us at the +Convent that he had never seen his feet for twenty years, +who had <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'baptised' and 'baptized' were used in this text. This was retained.">baptized</ins> +my Father and his family in the Convent +chapel; and Father Boudreau, the silent, shy little +Louisianian, whom I remember so well coming with Father +Smarius one June day to bless, and sprinkle Holy Water +over that big yellow and white house close to the Convent +which my Father had taken for the summer; and Father +Glackmeyer, and Father Coghlan, and with them others +whose presence helped the more to fill St. Joseph's with the +intimate convent atmosphere.</p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>These old friends and old associations took away from +the uneasiness it might otherwise have given me to find the +church, for which I had exchanged the Convent chapel,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> +hidden up an alley as if its existence were a sin. But overlook +it as I might, this was the one important fact about +St. Joseph's which, otherwise, had no particular interest. +It did not count as architecture, it boasted of no beauty of +decoration: an inconspicuous, commonplace building from +every point of view, of which I consequently retain but the +vaguest memory. As I write, I can see, as if it were before +me, the Convent chapel, its every nook and corner, +almost its every stone, this altar here, that picture there, +the confessional in the screened-off space where visitors sat, +the dark step close to the altar railing where I carried my +wrongs and my sorrows. But try as I may, I cannot see +St. Joseph's as it was, cannot see any detail, nothing save +the general shabbiness and untidiness that shocked my +convent-bred eyes. Could it have appealed by its beauty, +like the old Cathedrals of Europe, or, for that matter, like +the old churches of Philadelphia, no doubt I should be able +to recall it as vividly as the Convent chapel. Because I +cannot, because it impressed me so superficially, I regret +the more that I had not the sense to appreciate the interest +it borrowed from the romance of history and the beauty +of suffering—the history of the Catholic religion in Philadelphia +which I might have read in this careful hiding of +its temple; the suffering of the scapegoat among churches, +obliged to keep out of sight, atoning for their intolerance +in a desert of secrecy, letting no man know where its +prayers were said or its services held. Catholics had to +practise their religion like criminals skulking from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> +law. Members of a Protestant church might dispute +among themselves to the point of blows, but they never +thought of interfering with the members of any other +church, except the Catholic, against which they could all +cheerfully join. There were times when the Friends, most +tolerant of men, were influenced by this general hostility, +and I rather think the worst moment in Penn's life was +when he was forced to protest against the scandal of the +Mass in his town of Brotherly Love.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs038.jpg" width="400" height="313" alt="FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, SEVENTH STREET AND WASHINGTON SQUARE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, SEVENTH STREET AND WASHINGTON SQUARE</span> +</div> + +<p>The marvel is that Catholics ventured out of their +hiding-places as soon as they did. They had emerged so +successfully by Revolutionary times that the stranger in +Philadelphia could find his way to "the Romish chapel" +and enjoy the luxury of knowing that he was not as these +poor wretches who fingered their beads and chanted Latin +not a word of which they understood. The Jesuits have +the wisdom of their reputation. When they built their +church the Colonies had for some years been the United +States, and hatred was less outspoken, and persecution +was more intermittent, but they believed discretion to be +the better part of valour and the truest security in not +challenging attack. That is why they built St. Joseph's +in Willing's Alley where the visitor with a dramatic sense +must be as thrilled by it as by the secret chapels and underground +passages in old Elizabethan mansions and Scott's +novels. Philadelphia gave the Jesuits a proof of their +wisdom when, within a quarter of a century, Young<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +America, in a playful moment, burnt down as much as it +could of St. Michael's and St. Augustine's; churches which +had been built bravely and hopefully in open places. +Young America believed in a healthy reminder to Catholics, +that, if they had not been disturbed for some time, it +was not because they did not deserve to be.</p> + +<p>Philadelphia had got beyond the exciting stage of intolerance +before I was born. There were no delicious +tremors to be had when I heard Mass at St. Joseph's or +went to Vespers at St. Mary's. There was no ear alert +for a warning of the approach of the enemy, no eye +strained for the first wisp of smoke or burst of flame. With +churches and convents everywhere—convents intruding +even upon Walnut Street and Rittenhouse Square—with a +big Cathedral in town and a big Seminary at Villanova, +Catholics were in a fair way to forget it had ever been as +dangerous for them as for the early Christians to venture +from their catacombs. Their religion had become a tame +affair, holding out no prospect of the martyr's crown. Only +the social prejudice survived, but it was the more bitter to +fight because, whether the end was victory or defeat, it +appeared so inglorious a struggle to be engaged in.</p> + +<p>One good result there was of this social ostracism. I +leave myself out of the argument. Religion, I have often +heard it said, is a matter of temperament. As this story +of my relations to Philadelphia seems to be resolving itself +into a general confession, I must at least confess my certainty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> +that I have not and never had the necessary temperament, +that, moreover, the necessary temperament is not to +be had by any effort of will power, depending rather upon +"the influence of the unknown powers." But I am not +totally blind, nor was I in the old days when, many as were +the things I did not see, my eyes were still open to the +effect of social opposition on Catholics with the temperament. +It made them more devout, at times more defiant. +I know churches that are in themselves alone a reward for +faith and fidelity—who would not be a Catholic in the dim +religious light of Chartres Cathedral, or in the sombre +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'splendor' and 'splendour' were used in this text. This was retained.">splendours</ins> +of Seville and Barcelona? But St. Joseph's +and St. Mary's, St. Patrick's and St. John's gave no such +reward, nor did the Cathedral in its far-away imitation of +the Jesuit churches of Italy and France. In these arid, +unemotional interiors, emotion could not kindle piety +which, if not fed by more spiritual stuff, was bound to +flicker and go out. This is why the Philadelphian who, +in those unattractive churches and in spite of the social +price paid, remained faithful, was the most devout Catholic +I have ever met at home or in my wanderings.</p> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<p>For his spiritual welfare, it might have been better had +the conditions remained as I knew them. But even at +that period, the signs of weakening in the social barrier +must have jumped to my eyes had I had eyes for the fine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> +shades. Catholics among themselves had begun to put up +social barriers, so much further had Philadelphia travelled +on the road to liberty.</p> + +<p>Religiously, one of their churches was as good as another, +but not socially. St. Mark's, from its superior +Episcopal heights, might look down equally upon St. +Patrick's and St. John's, but the Catholic with a pew at +St. John's did not at all look upon the Catholic with a seat +at St. Patrick's as on the same social level as himself. St. +Patrick's name alone was sufficient to attract an Irish +congregation, and the Irish who then flocked to Philadelphia +were not the flower of Ireland's aristocracy. St. +John's, by some unnamed right, claimed the Catholics of +social pretensions—the excellence of its music may have +strengthened its claim. I know that my Father, who was a +religious man, did not object to having the comfort of +religion strengthened by the charms of Gounod's Mass +well sung, and, at the last, he drifted from the Cathedral +to St. John's.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 306px;"> +<img src="images/gs039.jpg" width="306" height="400" alt="OLD SWEDES' CHURCH" title="" /> +<span class="caption">OLD SWEDES' CHURCH</span> +</div> + +<p>The Cathedral necessarily was above such distinctions, +as a Cathedral should be, and it harboured an overflow +from St. Patrick's and St. John's both. But it was the +Cathedral, rather than St. John's, that did most to weaken +the foundations of the social prejudice against the Catholic. +The Bishop there was Bishop Wood, and Bishop Wood, +like my Father a convert, was no Irish emigrant, no Italian +missionary, but came from the same old family of Philadelphia<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +Friends as J. Some people think that +Quakerism and Catholicism are more in sympathy with +each other than with other creeds because neither recognizes +any half way, each going to a logical extreme. +Whether Bishop Wood thought so, I am far from sure, +but he had himself gone from one extreme to the other +when he became a Catholic, and the religious step had its +social bearing. With his splendid presence and splendid +voice, he must have added dignity to every service at the +Cathedral, but he did more than that: in Philadelphia eyes +he gave it the sanction of Philadelphia respectability. The +Catholic was no longer quite without Philadelphia's social +pale.</p> + +<p>I had no opportunity, because of my long absence, to +watch the gradual breakdown, but I saw that the barrier +had fallen when I got back to Philadelphia. Never again +will Philadelphia children think they are doing an odd +thing when they go to Mass, never again need the Philadelphia +girl fresh from the Convent fancy herself alone +in the yawning gulf of evil that opens at the Convent gate. +I should not be surprised if an eligible man from the Dancing +Class or Assembly list can to-day be picked up at the +door of more than one Catholic church for the Sunday +Walk on Walnut Street. St. John's has risen, new and +resplendent, if ugly, from its ashes; St. Patrick's has +blossomed forth from its architectural insignificance into +an imposing Romanesque structure. The Cathedral has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> +been new swept and garnished—not so large perhaps as I +once saw it, for I have been to St. Paul's and St. Peter's +and many a Jesuit church in the meanwhile, but more +ornate, with altars and decorations that I knew not, and +with Mr. Henry Thouron's design on one wall as a promise +of further beauty to come. The difference confronted me +at every step—and saddened me, though I could not deny +that it meant improvement. But the change, as change, +displeased me in a Philadelphia that ceases to be my Philadelphia +when it ceases to preserve its old standards and +prejudices as jealously as its old monuments. For the +sake of the character I loved, I could wish Philadelphia +as far as ever from hope of salvation by anything save its +own invincible ignorance.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX: THE FIRST AWAKENING</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>I had been out, I do not remember how long, but +long enough to confirm my belief in the Philadelphia +way of doing things as the only way, when I +found that Philadelphia was involved in an enterprise +for which its history might give the reason but could +furnish no precedent. To Philadelphians who were older +than I, or who had been in Philadelphia while I was getting +through the business of education at the Convent, the +Centennial Exposition probably did not come as so great +a surprise. Having since had experience of how these +matters are ordered, I can understand that there must have +been some years of leading up to it. But I seem to have +heard of it first within no time of its opening, and just as +I had got used to the idea that Philadelphia must go on +for ever doing things as it always had done them, because +to do them otherwise would not be right or proper.</p> + +<p>The result was that, at the moment, I saw in the Centennial +chiefly a violent upheaval shaking the universe to +the foundations, with Philadelphia emerging, changed, +transformed, unrecognizable, plunging head-foremost into +new-fangled amusements, adding new duties to the Philadelphian's +once all-sufficing duty of being a Philadelphian, +inventing new attractions to draw to its drowsy streets<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> +people from the four quarters of the globe, and, more +astounding, giving itself up to these innovations with zest.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/gs040.jpg" width="307" height="400" alt="INDEPENDENCE HALL: THE ORIGINAL DESK ON WHICH THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE WAS SIGNED +AND THE CHAIR USED BY THE PRESIDENT OF CONGRESS, JOHN HANCOCK, IN 1776 +(BOTH ON PLATFORM)" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption">INDEPENDENCE HALL: THE ORIGINAL DESK ON WHICH THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE WAS SIGNED +AND THE CHAIR USED BY THE PRESIDENT OF CONGRESS, JOHN HANCOCK, IN 1776<br /> +<span style="font-size: smaller;">(BOTH ON PLATFORM)</span></span> +</div> + +<p>I looked on at the preparations,—as at most things, to +my infinite boredom,—from outside: a perspective from +which they appeared to me little more than a new form of +social diversion. For they kept my gayer friends, who +were well on the inside, busy going to Centennial balls at +the Academy of Music in the Colonial dress which was as +essential for admission as a Colonial name or a Colonial +family tree, while I stayed at home and, seeing what lovely +creatures powder and patches and paniers made of Philadelphia +girls with no more pretence to good looks than I, +felt a little as I did when the +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'colored' and 'coloured' were used in this text. This was retained.">coloured</ins> +dignitary rang at +our front door with the Assembly card that was not for +me. And between the balls, the same friends were immersed +in Centennial Societies and Centennial Committees +and Centennial Meetings and Centennial Subscriptions +and Centennial Petitions, Philadelphia women for the first +time admitted, and pining for admission, into public +affairs; while I was so far apart from it all that I remember +but one incident in connection with the Centennial +orgy of work, and this as trivial as could be. When we +moved into the Third Street house we had found in possession +a cat who left us in no doubt of her disapproval of our +intrusion, but who tolerated us because of the convenience +of the ground floor windows from which to watch for her +enemies among the dogs of the +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'neighborhood' and 'neighbourhood' were used in this text. This was retained.">neighbourhood</ins>, +and for the +comfort of certain cupboards upstairs during the infancy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> +of her kittens. She kept us at a respectful distance and +we never ventured upon any liberties with her. Those of +our friends who did, heedless of her growls, were sure to +regret it. Our family doctor carried the marks of her +teeth on his hand for many a day. It happened that once, +when two Centennial canvassers called, she was the first +to greet them and was unfavourably impressed by the +voluminous furs in which they were wrapped. When I +came downstairs she was holding the hall, her eyes flaming, +her tail five times its natural size, and I understood +the prudence of non-interference. The canvassers had retreated +to the vestibule between the two front doors and, +as I opened the inner door, another glance at the flaming +eyes and indignant tail completed their defeat and they +fled without explaining the object of their visit. I must +indeed have been removed from the Centennial delirium +and turmoil to have retained this absurd encounter as one +of my most vivid memories.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>Upon the Centennial itself I looked at closer quarters. +I was as removed from it officially, but not quite so penniless +less and friendless as never to have the chance to visit it. +Inexperienced and untravelled as I was, it opened for me +vistas hitherto undreamed of and stirred my interest as +nothing in Philadelphia had until then. As I recall it, +that long summer is, as it was at the time, a bewildering +jumble of first impressions and revelations—Philadelphia<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> +all chaos and confusion, functions and formalities, spectacles +and sensations—buildings Philadelphia could not +have conceived of in its sanity covering acres of its beautiful +Park, a whole shanty town of huge hotels and cheap +restaurants and side-shows sprung up on its outskirts—marvels +in the buildings, amazing, foreign, unbelievable +marvels, the Arabian Nights rolled into one—interminable +drives in horribly crowded street-cars to reach them—lunches +of Vienna rolls and Vienna coffee in Vienna cafés, +as unlike Jones's on Eleventh Street or Burns's on Fifteenth +as I could imagine—dinners in French restaurants +that, after Belmont and Strawberry Mansion, struck me +as typically Parisian though I do not suppose they were +Parisian in the least—the flaring and glaring of millions +of gas lamps under Philadelphia's tranquil skies—a delightful +feeling of triumph that Philadelphia was the first +American town to do what London had done, what Paris +had done, and to do it so splendidly—burning heat, Philadelphia +apparently bent on proving to the unhappy visitor +what the native knew too well, that, when it has a mind to, +it can be the most intolerably hot place in the world—sweltering, +demoralized crowds—unexpected descents +upon a household as quiet as ours of friends not seen for +years and relations never heard of—brilliant autumn days—an +atmosphere of activity, excitement and exultation +that made it good to be alive and in the midst of Centennial +celebrations without bothering to seek in them a more +serious end than a season's amusement.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs041.jpg" width="400" height="313" alt="PHILADELPHIA FROM BELMONT" title="" /> +<span class="caption">PHILADELPHIA FROM BELMONT</span> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>But, without bothering, I could not escape a dim perception +that Philadelphia had not turned itself topsy-turvy +to amuse me and the world. Things were in the air I +could not get away from. The very words Centennial and +Colonial were too new in my vocabulary not to start me +thinking, little given as I was to thinking when I could +save myself the trouble. And however lightly I might be +inclined to take the whole affair, the rest of Philadelphia +was so far from underestimating it that probably the +younger generation, used to big International Expositions +and having seen the wonders of the Centennial eclipsed in +Paris and Chicago and St. Louis and its pleasures rivalled +in an ordinary summer playground like Coney Island or +Willow Grove, must wonder at the innocence of Philadelphia +in making such a fuss over such an +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'everyday' and 'every-day' were used in this text. This was retained.">everyday</ins> +affair. But in the Eighteen-Seventies the big International +Exposition was not an +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'everyday' and 'every-day' were used in this text. This was retained.">everyday</ins> affair. Europe +had held only one or two, America had held none, Philadelphia +had to find out the way for itself, with the whole +country watching, ready to jeer at the sleepy old town +if it went wrong. As I look back, though I +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realize</ins> that +the Centennial buildings were not architectural masterpieces—how +could I help <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realis</ins>ing +it with Memorial Hall +still out there in the Park as reminder?—though I +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realise</ins> +that Philadelphia prosperity did not date from the Centennial, +that Philadelphians had not lived in a slough of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> +inertia and ignorance until the Centennial pulled them +out of it: all the same, I can see how fine an achievement +it was, and how successful in jerking Philadelphians from +their comfortable rut of indifference to everything going +on outside of Philadelphia, or to whether there was an outside +for things to go on in.</p> + +<p>I know that I was conscious of the jerk in my little +corner of the rut. The Centennial, for one thing, gave me +my first object lesson in patriotism. There was no special +training for the patriot when I was young—no school +drilling, with flags, to national music. An American was +an American, not a Russian Jew, a Slovak, or a Pole, and +patriotism was supposed to follow as a matter of course. +It did, but I fancy with many, as with me, after a passive, +unintelligent sort of fashion. I knew about the Declaration +of Independence, but had anybody asked for my +opinion of it, I doubtless should have dismissed it as a dull +page in a dull history book, a difficult passage to get by +heart. But I could not go on thinking of it in that way +when so remote an occasion as its hundredth birthday was +sending Philadelphia off its head in this mad carnival +of excitement. In little, as in big, matters I was constantly +brought up against the fact that things did not +exist simply because they were, but because something +had been. An old time-worn story that amused the Philadelphian +in its day is of the American from another town, +who, after listening to much Philadelphia talk, interrupted +to ask: "But what is a Biddle?" I am afraid I should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> +have been puzzled to answer. For a Biddle was a Biddle, +just as Spruce Street was Spruce Street, just as Philadelphia +was Philadelphia. That had been enough in all +conscience for the Philadelphian, but the Centennial would +not let it be enough for me any longer.</p> + +<p>My first hint that Philadelphia and Spruce Street and +a Biddle needed a past to justify the esteem in which we +held them, came from the spectacle of Mrs. Gillespie +towering supreme above Philadelphians with far more +familiar names than hers at every Centennial ball and in +every Centennial Society, the central figure in the Centennial +preparations and in the Centennial itself. I did +not know her personally, but that made no difference. +There was no blotting out her powerful presence, she +pervaded the Centennial atmosphere. She remains in the +foreground of my Centennial memories, a tall, gaunt +woman, not especially gracious, apparently without a +doubt of her right to her conspicuous position, ready to +resent the effrontery of the sceptic who challenged it had +there been a sceptic so daring, anything but popular, and +yet her rule accepted unquestioningly for no better reason +than because she was the descendant of Benjamin Franklin, +and I could not help knowing that she was his descendant, +for nobody could mention her without dragging +in his name. It revolutionized my ideas of school and +school books, no less than of Philadelphia. I had +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +the story of Benjamin Franklin and the kite, just as I had +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +the story of George Washington and the cherry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +tree, and of General Marion and the sweet potatoes, and +other anecdotes of heroes invented to torment the young. +And now here was Franklin turning out to be not merely +the hero of an anecdote that bored every right-minded +school-girl to death, but a person of such consequence +that his descendant in the third or fourth generation had +the right to lord it over Philadelphia. There was no +getting away from that any more than there was from +Mrs. Gillespie herself and, incidentally, it suggested a +new reason for Biddles and Cadwalladers and Whartons +and Morrises and Norrises and Logans and Philadelphia +families with their names on the Assembly list. That they +were the resplendent creatures Philadelphia thought them +was not so elementary a fact as the shining of the sun in +the heavens; they owed it to their ancestors just as Mrs. +Gillespie owed her +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'splendor' and 'splendour' were used in this text. This was retained.">splendour</ins> +to Franklin; and an ancestor +immediately became the first necessity in Philadelphia.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs042.jpg" width="400" height="314" alt="THE DINING ROOM, STENTON" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE DINING ROOM, STENTON</span> +</div> + +<p>The man who is preoccupied with his ancestors has a +terrible faculty of becoming a snob, and Philadelphians for +a while concerned themselves with little else. They devoted +every hour of leisure to the study of genealogy, they +besieged the Historical Society in search of inconsiderate +ancestors who had neglected to make conspicuous figures +of themselves and so had to be hunted up, they left no +stone unturned to prove their Colonial descent. It must +have been this period that my Brother, Grant Robins, irritated +with our <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'forefathers' and 'fore-fathers' were used in this text. This was retained.">forefathers</ins> +for their mistake in settling in +Virginia half a century before there was a Philadelphia<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> +to settle in and then making a +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'halfway' and 'half-way' were used in this text. This was retained.">half-way</ins> +halt in Maryland, +hurried down to the Eastern Shore to get together what +material he could to keep us in countenance in the town +of my Grandfather's adoption. It was soothing to find +more than one Robins among the earliest settlers of Virginia +and mixed up with Virginia affairs at an agreeably +early date. But what wouldn't I have given to see our +name in a little square on one of the early maps of the +City of Philadelphia as I have since seen J.'s? And the +interest in ancestors spread, and no Englishman could ever +have been so eager to prove that he came over with the +Conqueror as every American was to show that he dated +back to William Penn, or the first Virginia Company, or +the Dutch, or the Mayflower; no Order of Merit or Legion +of Honour could have conferred more glory on an American +than a Colonial Governor in the family; no aristocracy +was more exclusive than the American founded on the new +societies of Colonial Dames and Sons and Daughters of +Pennsylvania and of every other State.</p> + +<p>It was preposterous, I grant, in a country whose first +article of faith is that all men are born equal, but Americans +could have stood a more severe attack of snobbishness +in those days, the prevailing attitude of Americans at +home being not much less irreverent than that of the Innocents +Abroad. In Philadelphia it was not so much irreverence +as indifference. The habit of Philadelphians to +depreciate their town and themselves, inordinate as, +actually, was their pride in both, had not been thrown off.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> +Why they ever got into the habit remains to me and to +every Philadelphian a problem. Some think it was because +the rest of the country depreciated them; some +attribute it to Quaker influence, though how and why +they cannot say; and some see in it the result of the Philadelphia +exclusiveness that reduces the social life of Philadelphia +to one small group in one small section of the +town so that it is as small as village life, and has the village +love of scandal, the village preoccupation with petty +gossip, the little things at the front door blotting out the +big things beyond. A more plausible reason is that Philadelphians +were so innately sure of themselves—so sure that +Philadelphia was <i>the</i> town and Philadelphians <i>the</i> aristocracy +of the world—that they could afford to be indifferent. +But whatever the cause, this indifference, this depreciation, +was worse than a blunder, it was a loss in a town with +a past so well worth looking into and being proud of and +taking care of.</p> + +<p>A few Philadelphians had interested themselves in +their past, otherwise the Historical Society would not have +existed, but they were distressingly few. I can honestly +say that up to the time of the Centennial it had never +entered into my mind that the past in Philadelphia had a +value for every Philadelphian and that it was every Philadelphian's +duty to help preserve any record that might +survive of it—that the State House, the old churches, the +old streets where I took my daily walks were a possession +Philadelphia should do its best not to part with—and I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> +was such a mere re-echo of Philadelphia ideas and prejudices +that I know most Philadelphians were as ignorant +and as heedless. But almost the first effort of the new +Dames and Sons and Daughters was to protect the old +architecture, the outward sign and symbol of age and the +aristocracy of age, and they made so much noise in doing +so that even I heard it, even I became conscious of a research +as keen for a past, or a genealogy in the familiar +streets and the familiar buildings as in the archives of Historical +Societies.</p> + +<p>If the Centennial had done no more for Philadelphia +than to put Philadelphians to this work, it would have +done enough. But it did do more. The pride of family, +dismissed by many as pure snobbishness, awoke the sort +of patriotism that Philadelphia, with all America, was +most in need of if the real American was not to be swept +away before the hordes of aliens beginning then to invade +his country. In my opinion, the Colonial Dames, for all +their follies, are doing far more to keep up the right +American spirit than the flaunting of the stars and stripes +in the alien's face and the lavishing upon him of the +Government's paternal attention. The question is how +long they can avoid the pitfall of exaggeration.</p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>If there was one thing in those days I knew less of than +the past in Philadelphia, it was the present outside of it. +Of my own country my knowledge was limited to an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> +occasional trip to New York, an occasional visit to Richmond +and Annapolis, an occasional summer month in +Cape May and Atlantic City. Travelling is not for the +poor. Rich Philadelphians travelled more, but from no +keen desire to see their native land. The end of the +journey was usually a social function in Washington or +Baltimore, in New York or Boston, upon which their +presence conferred distinction, though they would rather +have dispensed with it than let it interfere with the always +more important social functions at home. Or else the heat +of summer drove them to those seashore and mountain +resorts where they could count upon being with other +Philadelphians, and the winter cold sent them in Lent +to Florida, when it began to be possible to carry all Philadelphia +there with them.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 312px;"> +<img src="images/gs043.jpg" width="312" height="400" alt="DOWN THE AISLE AT CHRIST CHURCH" title="" /> +<span class="caption">DOWN THE AISLE AT CHRIST CHURCH</span> +</div> + +<p>My knowledge of the rest of the world was more +limited. I had been in France, but when I was such a +child that I remembered little of it except the nuns in the +Convent at Paris where I went to school, and the Garden +of the Tuileries I looked across to from the Hotel Meurice. +Nor had going abroad as yet been made a habit in Philadelphia. +There was nothing against the Philadelphian +going who chose to and who had the money. It defied no +social law. On the contrary, it was to his social credit, +though not indispensable as the Grand Tour was to the +Englishman in the Eighteenth Century. I remember +when my Grandfather followed the correct tourist route +through England, France, and Switzerland, his children<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> +considered it an event of sufficient importance to be commemorated +by printing, for family circulation, an elaborately +got up volume of the eminently commonplace letters +he had written home—a tribute, it is due to him to add, +that met with his great astonishment and complete disapproval. +I can recall my admiration for those of my +friends who made the journey and my regret that I had +made it when I was too young to get any glory out of it; +also, my delight in the trumpery little alabaster figures +from Naples and carved wood from Geneva and filigree +jewellery from the Rue de Rivoli they brought me back +from their journey: the wholesale distribution of presents +on his return being the heavy tax the traveller abroad paid +for the distinction of having crossed the Atlantic—a tax, +I believe, that has sensibly been done away with since the +Philadelphian's discovery of the German Bath, the London +season, and the economy of Europe as reasons for +going abroad every summer.</p> + +<p>I was scarcely more familiar with the foreigner than +with his country. Philadelphia had Irish in plenty, as +many Germans as beer saloons, or so I gathered from the +names over the saloon doors, and enough Italians to sell +it fruit and black its boots at street corners. But otherwise, +beyond a rare Chinaman with a pigtail and a rarer +Englishman on tour, the foreigner was seldom seen in +Philadelphia streets or in Philadelphia parlours. In early +days Philadelphia had been the first place the distinguished +foreigner in the country made for. It was the most important<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> +town and, for a time, the capital. But after Washington +claimed the diplomat and New York strode ahead +in commerce and size and shipping, Philadelphia was too +near each for the traveller to stop on his way between +them, unless he was an actor, a lecturer, or somebody who +could make money out of Philadelphia.</p> + +<p>I feel sorry for the sophisticated young Philadelphian +of to-day who cannot know the emotion that was mine when, +of a sudden, the Centennial dumped down "abroad" right +into Philadelphia, and the foreigner was rampant. The +modern youth saunters into a World's Fair as casually +as into a Market Street or Sixth Avenue Department +Store, but never had the monotony of my life been +broken by an experience so extraordinary as when the +easy-going street-car carried me out of my world of red +brick into the heart of England, and France, and Germany, +and Italy, and Spain, and China, and Japan, where +I rubbed elbows with yellow Orientals in brilliant silks, +and with soldiers in amazing uniforms—I who had seen +our sober United States soldiers only on parade—and with +people who, if they wore ordinary clothes, spoke all the +languages under the sun. It was extraordinary even to +meet so many Americans who were not Philadelphians, +all talking American with to me a foreign accent, extraordinary +to see such familiar things as china, glass, silks, +stuffs, furniture, carpets, transformed into the unfamiliar, +unlike anything I had ever seen in Chestnut Street windows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +or on Chestnut Street counters, so extraordinary that +the most insignificant details magnified themselves into +miracles, to the mere froth on top of the cup of Vienna +coffee, to the fatuous song of a little Frenchman in a +side-show, so that to this day, if I could turn a tune, I +could still sing the "Ah! Ah! Nicolas!" of its foolish +refrain.</p> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<p>Travelling, I should have seen all the Centennial had +to show and a thousand times more, but slowly and by +degrees, losing the sense of the miraculous with each new +marvel. The Centennial came as one comprehensive +revelation—overwhelming evidence that the Philadelphia +way was not the only way. And this I think was a good +thing for me, just as for Philadelphia it was a healthy +stimulus. But the Centennial did not give me a new belief +in exchange for the old; it did nothing to alter my life, +nothing to turn my sluggish ambition into active channels. +And big as it was, it was not as big as Philadelphia +thought. I do believe that Philadelphians who had helped +to make it the splendid success it proved, looked upon it +as no less epoch-making than the Declaration of Independence +which it commemorated. But epoch-making as +it unquestionably was, it was not so epoch-making as all +that. For some years Philadelphians had a way of saying +"before" and "after" the Centennial, much as Southerners +used to talk of "before" and "after" the War:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> +with the difference that for Philadelphians all the good +dated from "after." But manufacturing and commerce +had been heard of "before." Cramp's shipyard did not +wait for its first commission until the Centennial, neither +did Baldwin's Locomotive Works, nor the factories in +Kensington; Philadelphia was not so dead commercially +that it was out of mere compliment important railroads +made it the chief centre on their route. All large International +Expositions are bound to do good by the increased +knowledge that comes with them of what the world is producing +and by the incentive this knowledge is to competition, +and as the Centennial was the first held in America +it probably accomplished more for the country than those +that followed. But I do not have to be an authority on +manufacture and commerce to see that they flourished +before the Centennial; I have +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +enough about art +since to know that its existence was not first revealed +to Philadelphia by the Centennial. The Exhibition had +an influence on art which I am far from undervaluing. Its +galleries of paintings and prints, drawings and sculptures, +were an aid in innumerable ways to artists and students +who previously had had no facilities for seeing a representative +collection. It threw light on the arts of design +for the manufacturer. But we knew a thing or two about +beauty down in Philadelphia before 1876, though beauty +was a subject to which we had ceased to pay much attention, +and from the Centennial we borrowed too many +tastes and standards that did not belong to us. It set<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> +Philadelphia talking an appalling lot of rubbish about art, +and the new affectation of interest was more deplorable +than the old frank indifference.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 312px;"> +<img src="images/gs044.jpg" width="312" height="400" alt="THE BRIDGE ACROSS MARKET STREET FROM BROAD STREET STATION" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE BRIDGE ACROSS MARKET STREET FROM BROAD STREET STATION</span> +</div> + +<p>I was as ignorant of art as the child unborn, but not +more ignorant than the average Philadelphian. The old +obligatory visits to the Academy had made but a fleeting +impression and I never repeated them when the obligation +rested solely with me. I had never met an artist, never +been in a studio. The result was that the Art Galleries +at the Centennial left me as blank and bewildered as the +Hall of Machinery. Of all the paintings, the one I remembered +was Luke Fildes's picture of a milkmaid which +I could not forget because, in a glaring, plush-framed +chromo-lithograph, it reappeared promptly in Philadelphia +dining-and bedrooms, the most popular picture of +the Centennial—a popularity in which I can discern no +signs of grace. Nor can I discern them in the Eastlake +craze, in the sacrifice of reps and rosewood to Morris and +of Berlin work to crewels, in the outbreak of spinning-wheels +and milking-stools and cat's tails and Japanese +fans in the old simple, dignified Philadelphia parlour; in +the nightmare of wall-papers with dadoes going +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'halfway' and 'half-way' were used in this text. This was retained.">half-way</ins> +up the wall and friezes coming +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'halfway' and 'half-way' were used in this text. This was retained.">halfway</ins> down, and +every square inch crammed full of pattern; in the pretence +and excess of decoration that made the early Victorian +ornament, we had all begun to abuse, a delight to the eye +in its innocent unpretentiousness. And if to the Centennial +we owe the multiplication of our art schools, how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +many more artists have come out of them, how much more +work that counts?</p> + +<p>However, the good done by the Centennial is not to be +sought in the solid profits and losses that can be weighed +in a practical balance. It went deeper. Philadelphia +was the better for being impressed with the reason of its +own importance which it had taken on faith, and for being +reminded that the world outside of Philadelphia was not +a howling wilderness. I, individually, gained by the +widening of my horizon and the stirring of my interest. +But the Centennial did not teach me how to think about, +or use, what I had +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +from it. When it was at an end, +I returned placidly to my occupation of doing nothing.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER X: THE MIRACLE OF WORK</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>In the story of my life in Philadelphia, and my love +for the town which grew with my knowledge of it, my +beginning to work was more than an awakening: +it was an important crisis. For work first made me know +Philadelphia as it is under the surface of calm and the +beauty of age, first made me +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realize</ins> +how much it offers besides the social adventure.</p> + +<p>Personally, the Centennial had left me where it found +me. It had amused me vastly, but it had inspired me with +no desire to make active use of the information and hints +of which it had been so prodigal. My interest had been +stimulated, awakened, but I did not know Philadelphia +any the better for it, I did not love Philadelphia any the +better. I had got no further than I was in my scheme +of existence, into which work, or research, or interest, on +my part had not yet entered, but I had reached a point +where that aimless scheme was an insufferable bore. From +the moment I began to work, I began to see everything +from the standpoint of work, and it is wonderful what a +fresh and invigorating standpoint it is. I began to see that +everything was not all of course and matter of fact, that +everything was worth thinking about. Work is sometimes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> +said to help people to put things out of their minds, but it +helps them more when it puts things into their minds, and +this is what it did for me. Through work I discovered +Philadelphia and myself together.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>It strikes me as one of the little ironies of life that for +the first inducement to work, and therefore the first incentive +to my knowledge and love of Philadelphia, I should +have been indebted to my Uncle, Charles Godfrey Leland, +who, in 1880, when the Centennial excitement was subsiding, +settled again in Philadelphia after ten years abroad, +chiefly in England. Philadelphia welcomed him with its +usual serenity, betrayed into no expression of emotion by +the home-coming of one of its most distinguished citizens +who, in London, had been received with the open arms +London, in expansive moments, extends to the lion from +America. The contrast, no doubt, was annoying, and my +Uncle, of whom patience could not be said to be the predominating +virtue, was accordingly annoyed and, on his +side, betrayed into anything but a serene expression of +his annoyance. Many smaller slights irritated him further +until he worked himself up into the belief that he detested +Philadelphia, and he was apt to be so outspoken in criticism +that he succeeded in convincing me, anyway, that he +did. Later, when I read his <i>Memoirs</i>, I found in them +passages that suggest the charm of Philadelphia as it has +not been suggested by any other writer I know of, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> +that he could not have written had he not felt for the town +an affection strong enough to withstand that town's easy +indifference. But during the few years he spent in Philadelphia +after his return he was uncommonly successful in +hiding his affection, a fact which did not add to his +popularity.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 305px;"> +<img src="images/gs045.jpg" width="305" height="400" alt="STATE HOUSE YARD" title="" /> +<span class="caption">STATE HOUSE YARD</span> +</div> + +<p>From his talk, I might have been expected to borrow +nothing save dislike for Philadelphia. But his influence +did not begin and end with his talk. There never was a +man—except J.—who had such a contempt for idleness +and such a talent for work. He could not endure +people about him who did not work and, as I was anxious +to enjoy as much of his company as I could, for I had +found nobody in Philadelphia so entertaining, and as by +work I might earn the money to pay for the independence +I wanted above all things, I found myself working before +I knew it.</p> + +<p>I had my doubts when he set me to drawing but, my +time being wholly my own and frequently hanging drearily +on my hands, my ineffectual attempts to make spirals and +curves with a pencil on a piece of paper, attempts that +could not by the wildest stretch of imagination be supposed +to have either an artistic or a financial value, did not strike +me as a disproportionate price for the pleasure and +stimulus of his companionship. Besides, he held the comfortable +belief that anybody who willed to do it, could do +anything—accomplishment, talent, genius reduced by him +to a question of will. His will and mine combined, however,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> +could not make a decorative artist of me, but he was +so kind as not to throw me over for ruthlessly shattering +his favourite theory. He insisted that I should write if I +could not draw.</p> + +<p>I had my doubts about writing too. I have confessed +that I was not given to thinking and therefore I had nothing +in particular to say, nor were words to say it in at my +ready disposal, for, there being one or two masters of talk +in the immediate home circle, I had cultivated to the utmost +my natural gift of silence. Nor could I forget two +literary ventures made immediately upon my leaving the +Convent, before the blatant conceit of the prize scholar +had been knocked out of me—one, an essay on François +Villon, my choice of a maiden theme giving the measure +of my intelligence, the second a short story re-echoing the +last love tale I had read—both MSS., neatly tied with +brown ribbon to vouch for a masculine mind above feminine +pinks and blues, confidently sent to <i>Harper's</i> and as confidently +sent back with the Editor's thanks and no delay. +But my Uncle would not let me off. I must stick at my +task of writing or cease to be his companion, and so relapse +into my old Desert of Sahara, thrown back into the colourless +life of a Philadelphia girl who did not go out and who +had waited to marry longer than her parents thought considerate +or correct. Of all my sins, of none was I more +guiltily conscious than my failure to oblige my family in +this respect, for of none was I more frequently and uncomfortably +reminded by my family. I scarcely ever went<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> +to see my Grandmother at this period that from her +favourite perch on the landing outside the dining-room, +she did not look at me anxiously and reproachfully and +ask, "Any news for me, my dear?" and she did not have +to tell me there was but one piece of news she cared to +hear.</p> + +<p>Luckily, writing, my substitute for marriage, was an +occupation I was free to take up if I chose, as the work it +involved met with no objection from my Father. It was +only when work took a girl where the world could not help +seeing her at it, that the Philadelphia father objected. To +write in the privacy of a third-story front bedroom, or of a +back parlour, seemed a ladylike way of wasting hours that +might more profitably have been spent in paying calls and +going to receptions. If this waste met with financial +return, it could be hushed up and the world be none the +wiser. The way in which my friends used to greet me +after I was fairly launched is characteristic of the Philadelphia +attitude in the matter—"always scribbling away, +I suppose?" they would say with amiable condescension.</p> + +<p>I could not dismiss my scribbling so jauntily. The +record of my struggles day by day might help to keep out +of the profession of journalism and book-making many a +young aspirant as ardent as I was, and with as little to +say and as few words to say it in. Experience has taught +me to feel, much as Gissing felt, about the "heavy-laden +who sit down to the cursed travail of the pen," but nobody +could have made me feel that way then, and I am not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> +sure I should care to have missed my struggles, exhausting +and heart-rending as they were. During my apprenticeship +when nothing, not so much as a newspaper paragraph, +came from my mountain of labour, the Philadelphia surface +of calm told gloomily on my nerves. Ready to lay +the blame anywhere save on my sluggish brain, and moved +by my Uncle's vehement denunciations, I vowed to myself +a hundred times that a sleepy place, a dead place, like +Philadelphia did not give anybody the chance to do anything. +I changed my point of view when at last my +"scribbling away" got into print.</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>My first appearance was with a chapter out of a larger +work upon which I had been engaged for months. My +Uncle, whose ideas were big, had insisted that I must begin +straight off with a book, something monumental, a +<i>magnum opus</i>; no writer was known who had not written a +book; and to be known was half the battle. I was in the +state of mind when I would have agreed to publish a +masterpiece in hieroglyphics had he suggested it, and I +arranged with him to set to work upon my book then and +there, though I was decidedly puzzled to know with what +it was to deal. I think he was too, my literary resources +and tendencies not being of the kind that revealed themselves +at a glance. But he declared that there was not +a subject upon which a book could not be written if one +only went about it in the right way, and in a moment of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> +inspiration, seeking the particular subject suitable to my +particular needs, he suddenly, and to me to this day altogether +incomprehensibly, hit upon Mischief. There, now, +was a subject to make one's reputation on, none could be +more original, no author had touched it—what did I think +of Mischief?</p> + +<p>What did I think? Had I been truthful, I should have +said that I thought Mischief was the special attribute of +the naughty child who was spanked well for it if he got his +deserts. But I was not truthful. I said it was the subject +of subjects, as I inclined to believe it was before I was +done with it, by which time I had persuaded myself to see +in it the one force that made the world go round—the incentive +to evolution, the root of the philosophies of the +ages, the clue to the mystery of life.</p> + +<p>My days were devoted to the study of Mischief and, +for the purpose, more carefully divided up and regulated +than they ever had been at the Convent. Hours were set +aside for research—I see myself and my sympathetic +Uncle overhauling dusty dictionaries and +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'encyclopædia' and 'encyclopedia' were used in this text. This was retained.">encyclopædias</ins> +at the long table in the balcony of the dusty Mercantile +Library where nobody +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'dreamt' and 'dreamed' were used in this text. This was retained.">dreamed</ins> +of disturbing us; I see +him at my side during shorter visits to the Philadelphia +Library where we were forever running up against people +we knew who did disturb us most unconscionably; I see +him tramping with me down South Broad Street to the +Ridgway Library, that fine mausoleum of the great collections +of James Logan and Dr. Rush, where our coming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> +awoke the attendants and exposed their awkwardness in +waiting upon unexpected readers, and brought Mr. Lloyd +Smith out of his private room, excited and delighted +actually to see somebody in the huge and well-appointed +building besides himself and his staff. Hours were reserved +for reading at home, for it turned out that I could +not possibly arrive at the definition of Mischief without +a stupendous amount of reading in a stupendous variety +of books of any and all kinds from Mother Goose to the +Vedas and the Koran, from Darwin to Eliphas Levi. +Hours, and they were the longest, were consecrated to my +writing-table, putting the results of research and reading +into words, defining Mischief in its all-embracing, universe-covering +aspect, hewing the phrases from my unwilling +brain as the blocks of marble are hewn out of the quarry. +As I write, my old MSS. rises before me like a ghost, a disorderly +ghost, erased, rewritten, pieces added in, pieces +cut out, every scratched and blotted line bearing testimony +to the toil that produced it. I can see now that I would +have done better to begin with a more obvious theme, coming +more within my limited knowledge and vocabulary. +My task was too laborious for the fine frenzy, or the inspired +flights, reputed to be the reward of the literary life. +It was all downright hard labour, and so +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'colored' and 'coloured' were used in this text. This was retained.">coloured</ins> my +whole idea of the business of writing, that I have never +yet managed to sit down to my day's work without the +feeling which I imagine must be the navvy's as he starts +out for his day's digging in the streets.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> + +<p>In the course of time order grew out of the chaos. A +chapter of my monumental work on Mischief was finished. +It was made ready in a neat copy with hardly an erasure +and, having an air of completeness in itself, was sent as a +separate article to <i>Lippincott's Magazine</i>, for I decided +magnanimously that, as I was a Philadelphian, Philadelphia +should have the first chance. I had no doubts of it as +a prophetic utterance, as a world-convulsing message, but +the Editor of <i>Lippincott's</i> had. He refused it.</p> + +<p>How it hurt, that prompt refusal! All my literary +hopes came toppling over and I saw myself condemned to +the old idleness and dependence. But our spirits when we +are young go up as quickly as they go down. I recalled +stories I had heard of great men hawking about their MSS. +from publisher to publisher. Carlyle, I said to myself, had +suffered and almost every writer of note—it was a sign of +genius to be refused. Therefore,—the logic of it was +clear and convincing—the refusal proved me a genius! +A more substantial reassurance was the publication of the +same article, done over and patched up and with the fine +title of <i>Mischief in the Middle Ages</i>, in the <i>Atlantic +Monthly</i> a very few months later. And when, on top of +this, Thomas Bailey Aldrich, the Editor of the <i>Atlantic</i>, +wrote and told me he would be pleased to have further +articles from me; when, in answer to a letter my Uncle +had insisted on my writing. Oliver Wendell Holmes +promised me his interest in Mischief as I proposed to define +it. I saw the world at my feet where, to my sorrow,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> +I have never seen it since that first fine moment of elation.</p> + +<p>The spectacle of myself in print set Philadelphia dancing +before my eyes and turned the world a bit unsteady. +But it did not relieve the labour of writing. Within the +next year or two seven or eight chapters did get done and +were published as articles in the <i>Atlantic</i>, but the world is +still the poorer for the <i>magnum opus</i> that was to bring me +fame. The fact was that in the making, it brought me +mighty little money. My first cheque only whetted my +appetite, but, in fairness to myself I must explain, through +no more sordid motive than my desire to become my own +bread-winner. The newspapers offered a wider scope at +less expense of time and labour, and my Uncle not only +relaxed so far as to allow me intervals from the bigger +undertaking for simpler tasks, but gave me the benefit of +his experience as a newspaper man. In the old days, +before he had gone to live in London, he had had the run +of almost every newspaper office in town, and he opened +their doors for me. Thanks to his introduction, Philadelphia, +at this stage of my progress, conspired to put work +into my hands, and writing for Philadelphia papers taught +me in a winter more about Philadelphia than I had +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +in all the years I had already spent there. I marvelled that +I could have thought it dead when it was so alive. I seemed +to feel it quiver under my feet at every step, shaking me +into speed, and filling me with pity for the sedate pace at +which my Father and the Philadelphians of his generation +walked through its pulsating streets.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>My first newspaper commissions came from the <i>Press</i> +and adventure accompanied them—the adventure of business +letters in my morning's mail, of proofs, of visits to the +office—adventures that far too soon became the commonplaces +of my busy days as journalist. But my outlook +upon life in Philadelphia had, up till then, been bounded by +the brick walls of a Spruce Street house, and the editorial +office, that holds no surprise for me now, held nothing save +surprise when I was first summoned to it. I was bewildered +by the disorder, stunned by the noise—boys coming +and going, letters and telegrams pouring in, piles of +proofs mounting up on the desk, baskets overflowing with +MSS., floors strewn with papers, machinery throbbing +close by, a heavy smell of tobacco over everything, and in +the midst of the confusion—lounging, working, answering +questions, tearing open letters and telegrams, correcting +proof, and yet managing to talk with me,—Moses P. +Handy, the editor, a red man in my memory of him, red +hair, red beard, red cheeks, whose cordiality I could not +flatter myself was due to his eagerness for my contributions, +so engrossed was he in talking of the Eastern Shore +of Maryland from which he came and in which my family +had made their prolonged stay on the way from Virginia +to Philadelphia. The Eastern Shore may be a good place +to come away from, but the native never forgets that he +did come from it and he never fails to hail his fellow exile +as brother.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p> + +<p>My next commission I owed to the <i>Evening Telegraph</i>, +for which I made a remarkable journey to Atlantic +City: a voyage of discovery, though the report of it did not +paralyse the Philadelphia public. I was deeply impressed +by my exercise of my faculty of observation thus tested +on familiar ground, but I am afraid it left the Editor indifferent, +and, as in his case the Eastern Shore was not a +friendly link between us, he expressed no desire for a +second article or for a second visit. I have regretted it +since, the Editor being Clarke Davis, whom not to know +was, I believe, not to have arrived so far in Philadelphia +journalism as I liked to think I had.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs046.jpg" width="400" height="304" alt="THE PENITENTIARY" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE PENITENTIARY</span> +</div> + +<p>A more remarkable journey followed to New York +for I wish I could remember what paper; or perhaps it is +just as well I cannot, the adventure adding to the reputation +neither of the paper nor of myself. The object was to +attend the press view of an important exhibition of paintings, +and at that stage of my education I doubt if I could +have told a Rembrandt from a Rubens, much less a Kenyon +Cox from a Church, a Chase from a Blum, which was +more immediately to the point. I had my punishment on +the spot, for my hours in the Gallery may be counted the +most humiliating of my life. My ignorance would not let +me lose sight of it for one little second. J. had gone with +me—how I came to know him I mean to tell further on—but +he had no press ticket, a stern man at the door refused +to admit him without one, and I was alone in my incompetency<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> +to wrestle with it as I could. Had he not returned +with me to Philadelphia in the afternoon and devoted +the interval in the train to throwing light upon my obscure +and agonised notes, my copy could not have been delivered +that evening as agreed. I know now that the paper would +have come out all the same the next morning, but in my +misery it did not seem possible that it could, and besides +I was from the first, as through my many years of journalism, +scrupulous to be on time with my copy and to keep to +my agreements. That was my first experience in art +criticism. I have tried to atone for it by years of conscientious +work, but few Philadelphia papers can say as +much for themselves. In those I see from time to time, the +art criticism usually reads as if Philadelphia editors had +lost nothing of their old amiability in handing it over to +young ladies to get their journalistic training on.</p> + +<p>I was given also my chance in two newspaper ventures +Philadelphia made in the early Eighteen-Eighties. One +was the <i>American</i>, a weekly on the lines of the New York +<i>Nation</i>. Mr. Howard Jenkins, the editor, sent me books +for review, and not the first baby, not the first baby's first +tooth, could be as extraordinary a phenomenon as the first +book sent for the purpose from the editorial office. Mine, +as I have never forgotten, as I never could forget, was +Howard Pyle's <i>Robin Hood</i>, and when Mr. Jenkins wrote +me that "Mr. Pyle's folks" were pleased with what I had +written, I thought I had got to the very top of the tree<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> +of journalism. That I had got no further than a step from +the bottom, and upon that had none too secure a foothold, +I was reminded when the second book for review lay open +before me.</p> + +<p>The other venture was <i>Our Continent</i>, also a weekly, +but illustrated, edited by Judge Tourgee. Of my contributions, +I remember chiefly an article on Shop Windows, +which suggests that I was busy with what I might +call a more pretentious kind of reporting. My subjects +and my manner of treating them may have been what +they were,—of no special value to anybody but myself. +But to myself I cannot exaggerate their value. I was +learning from them all the time.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs047.jpg" width="400" height="301" alt="ON THE READING AT SIXTEENTH STREET" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ON THE READING AT SIXTEENTH STREET</span> +</div> + +<p>It was an education just to learn what a newspaper +was. Heretofore I had accepted it as a thing that came +of itself, arriving in the morning with the milk and the +rolls for breakfast. I knew as little of its origin as the +town boy knew of where the milk comes from in the <i>Punch</i> +story that I do not doubt was old when <i>Punch</i> was young. +Milk he had always seen poured from a can, our newspaper +we had always had from the nearest news-agent. It was +very simple. A newspaper appeared on the breakfast-table +of a well-regulated Philadelphia house just as the +water ran when the tap was turned on in the bath-room, or +the gas burned when lit by a match. But after one article, +after one visit to a newspaper office, after one journey to +Atlantic City or New York, the newspaper did not seem +so simple. I began to understand that it would not have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> +got as far as Spruce Street had it not been for an army +of people writing, printing, correcting proof, tearing from +one end of the town—of the world—to the other; without +colossal machinery throbbing night and day, without an +immeasurable consumption of tobacco. I began to understand +the organization required to bring the army of +people and the colossal machines into such perfect harmony +that the daily miracle of the newspaper on the breakfast-table +might be worked—to understand too that the +miracle-working organization had not been created in a +day, that behind the daily paper was not merely the toiling +of its staff and its machines but a long history of striving, +experiment, development.</p> + +<p>I cannot say I went profoundly into the history, I was +too engrossed in contributing my delightful share to the +newspaper as it was, but to go superficially sufficed to show +me in Philadelphia a spirit of enterprise altogether new +to me. I had discovered only shortly before Philadelphia +as the scene of the first Colonial Congress, and the Declaration +of Independence, and the first big International +Exposition in America, and now I added to these other +discoveries the fact that Philadelphia had been the first +American town to publish a daily paper, the last discovery +bringing me face to face with Benjamin Franklin who, it +appeared, besides flying that tiresome kite and being the +ancestor of Mrs. Gillespie, was the first printer and publisher +of the paper that set an example for all America. +Tranquil the Philadelphian was by repute, but he rolled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +up his sleeves and pitched in when the moment came. +Philadelphia's famous calm was but skin deep over its +seething mass of workers, its energy, its toiling, its +triumph. When I reflected on what was going on at night +in every newspaper office in town, it seemed to me as unbelievable +that, on the verge of this volcano of work, Philadelphians +could keep on dancing at parties, at the Dancing +Class, at the Assembly, as that men and women should +have danced at Brussels on the eve of Waterloo. And +newspaper-making was one only of Philadelphia's innumerable +industries. That thought gave me the scale of +the labour that goes to keep the machinery of life running.</p> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<p>Of some of the other industries I got to know a little. +My Uncle who, as I have said, was a man of ideas and +who had his fair proportion of Philadelphia energy, included +among his many interests the subject of education. +He deplored existing systems and methods. My belief +is that the systems and methods might be of the best and +education would still be a mistake, vulgarizing the multitude +to whom it does not belong and encouraging in them +a prejudice against honest work. My Uncle did not think +as I do,—that I do not think now as he did frightens me as +a disloyalty to his memory. But he could not overlook the +distaste for manual work that had grown out of too much +attention to books and as he never let his theories exhaust<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> +themselves in words, he lost no time in persuading the +Board of Education to put this particular one to a practical +test. Doubts of their methods had assailed the Board, +but no way out of the difficulty had been suggested until +he came and said, "Set your children, your boys and girls, +who are forgetting how to use their hands, to work at the +Minor Arts." It struck them as a suggestion that +warranted the experiment anyway, especially as the cost +would be comparatively small. My Uncle had been back +in Philadelphia not much more than a year when classes +were put in his charge and a schoolroom—the school-house +at Broad and Locust—at his disposal, and he +inaugurated the study of the Arts and Crafts in Philadelphia +with the Industrial Art School, as he had in London +with the Home Arts. His sole payment was the pleasure +of the experiment, a pleasure which few theorists succeed +in securing. I, however, was paid by the City in solid +dollars and cents for the fine amateurish inefficiency with +which I helped him to manage the classes, recommended +by him, whose consideration was as practical for my +pockets which the <i>Atlantic</i>, backed by newspapers, had not +filled to repletion.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 305px;"> +<img src="images/gs048.jpg" width="305" height="400" alt="LOCUST STREET EAST FROM BROAD STREET" title="" /> +<span class="caption">LOCUST STREET EAST FROM BROAD STREET</span> +</div> + +<p>This is not the place for the history of his experiment. +It is known. The school has passed from the experimental +stage into a permanent institution, though in the passing +my Uncle has been virtually forgotten,—often the fate of +the man who sets a ball of reform rolling. Of all this I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> +have elsewhere made the record. I am at present concerned +with the influence the school had upon me and the +unexpected extent to which it widened my knowledge of +Philadelphia and Philadelphia activities.</p> + +<p>How Philadelphia was educated was not a question +that had kept me awake at nights. The Philadelphia girl +of my acquaintance, if a day scholar, went naturally to +Miss Irwin's or to Miss Annabel's in town; if a boarder +perhaps to Miss Chapman's at Holmesburg or Mrs. Comegys +at Chestnut Hill; unless her parents were converts or +Catholics by birth when she went instead to the Convent of +the Sacred Heart at Torresdale or in Walnut Street. The +Philadelphia boy began with the Episcopal Academy and +finished with the University of Pennsylvania. Friends +went to the Friends' School in Germantown, and to +Swarthmore and Haverford. What others did, did not +matter. I had heard there were public or free schools +where children could go for nothing, but nobody to my +knowledge went to them. With what insolence we each of +us, in our own little fraction of the world, think everybody +outside of it nobody! But up in the top story rooms of +the school-house at Broad and Locust, where my work took +me two afternoons in the week, I found myself the centre +of a vast network of schools! High Schools, Grammar +Schools, Primary Schools, Scholarships, more divisions and +subdivisions than I could count; with teachers—for there +was a class for teachers—and pupils coming from every +ward and suburb, every street and alley of the town; a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +School Board keeping a watchful eye upon schools and +teachers, not leaving me out; and all about me a vast +population without one idea or interest except the education +of Philadelphia. And this implied, like the newspaper, +a perfect organization of its own to keep the whole +thing going—an organization that never could have been +born in a day. The education of Philadelphia had +absorbed a vast population since Philadelphia was: the +first Philadelphia children hardly escaping from their cave +dwellings before they were hurried into school to have +their poor little minds trained and disciplined. Really, +in my first days of work, life was a succession of startling +discoveries about Philadelphia.</p> + +<p>I could not get paid for my afternoons at the school, +which I ought to have paid for considering the education +they were to me, without making another discovery. The +pay came monthly from the City in the form of a warrant, +or so I believe it is called. As I have explained that I had +never been possessed of money of my own, some allowance +will be made for my stupidity in thinking it necessary to +cash the warrant in person. It never occurred to me to +open a bank account or to ask my Father to exchange the +warrant for money. I went myself to the office in the big, +new, unfinished City Hall—how well I remember, when +I was kept waiting which was always, my conscientiousness +in jotting down elaborate notes of windows and doors and +upholstery and decoration: Zola in France and Howells +at home having made Realism the literary fashion, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> +Realism, I gathered, being achieved only by way of jotting +down endless notes in every situation in which I found +myself; especially as J. had brought back from Italy exemplary +and inspiring tales of Vernon Lee (Violet Paget) +and Mary Robinson (Mme. Duclaux), with whom he had +worked and travelled, filling blank books with memoranda +collected from the windows of every train they took and +every hotel in which they stayed.</p> + +<p>I am glad I was stupid, such a good thing for me was +this going in person, such a suggestive lesson in City +Government which I +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +was as little of an automatic +arrangement as education and the newspaper, and not +necessarily something that all decent people should be +ashamed of being mixed up with, the way my Father and +the old-fashioned Philadelphian of his type looked upon it +and every other variety of Government. It was just another +huge, busy, striving, toiling organization, so huge +as to fit with difficulty into the enormous ugly new buildings, +then recently set down for it in Penn Square with +complete indifference to Penn's plan for his green country +town, or to get its work done in the maze of courts and +passages and offices by the hordes of big and little officials +no less preoccupied in City Government than journalists +in their newspaper, or teachers in their school, or—outrageous +as it may sound—society in the Assembly and +Dancing Class and the things which I had been brought +up to believe the beginning and end of existence on this +earth.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 310px;"> +<img src="images/gs049.jpg" width="310" height="400" alt="BROAD STREET, LOOKING SOUTH FROM ABOVE ARCH STREET" title="" /> +<span class="caption">BROAD STREET, LOOKING SOUTH FROM ABOVE ARCH STREET</span> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> + +<p>My new knowledge of Philadelphia was widened in +various other directions as time went on. My Uncle's +experiment, when it took practical shape, attracted attention +and he was asked to lecture on it in places like the +Franklin Institute—there was no keeping away very +long from Benjamin Franklin in Philadelphia once I got +to know anything about Philadelphia—and to visit institutions +like Moyamensing Prison or Kirkbride's Insane +Asylum that he might consider the advisability of introducing +his scheme of manual work for the benefit of the +insane and the criminal. I usually accompanied him on +these occasions, and before he had got through his rounds +I had seen a number of different phases of Philadelphia +activity and enterprise and power of organization. I had +been given some idea of the armies of doctors and nurses +and scientists who had made Kirkbride's a model throughout +the land, while Dr. Albert Smith had helped me to +an additional insight into the hospitals that set as excellent +an example. I had been given an idea of the armies +of judges and juries and police and governors and warders +and visiting inspectors,—of whom my Father was one, +with a special tenderness for murderers whom he used to +take his family to visit—at Moyamensing. And from the +combination of all my new experiences I had gained +further knowledge of the energies at work beyond the +limits of "Chestnut, Walnut, Spruce and Pine" to make +Philadelphia what it was.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>VI</h3> + +<p>I ought to have needed no guide to the knowledge and +appreciation of these things, it may be said. I admit it. +But the happy mortals who are born observant do not +picture to themselves the tortures gone through by those +who must have observation thrust upon them before they +begin to use their eyes. I had not been born to observe, +I had not been trained to observe, and to become observant +I had to go through the sort of practical course Mr. +Squeers set to his boys. His method, denounce it as you +will, has its merits. The students of Dotheboys Hall +could never have forgotten what a window is or what it +means to clean it. I had grown up to accept life as a +pageant for me to look on at, with no part to play in it. +After my initiation into work, I could never forget, in the +quietest, emptiest sections of the town, not even in placid +little backwaters like Clinton Street and +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'Delancey' and 'De Lancey' were used in this text. This was retained.">De Lancey</ins> +Place, the machinery forever crashing and grinding and +roaring to produce the pageant, to weave for Philadelphia +the beautiful serenity it wore like a garment. I could +never forget that, insignificant as my share in the machinery +might be, all the same I was contributing something +to make it go. I could never be sure that everybody +I met, however calm in appearance, might not be as mixed +up in the great machine of work as I was beginning to be.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 314px;"> +<img src="images/gs050.jpg" width="314" height="400" alt="CLINTON STREET, WITH THE PENNSYLVANIA HOSPITAL AT ITS END" title="" /> +<span class="caption">CLINTON STREET, WITH THE PENNSYLVANIA HOSPITAL AT ITS END</span> +</div> + +<p>I had to work to learn that Philadelphia had worked, +and still worked, and worked so well as to be the first to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> +have given America much that is best and most vital in the +country—the first to show the right way with its schools +and hospitals and libraries and newspapers and galleries +and museums, the leader in the fight for liberty of conscience, +the scene of the first Colonial Congress and the +signing of the Declaration of Independence and the Centennial +Exposition to commemorate it, a pioneer in science +and industry and manufacture—a town upon which all the +others in the land could not do better than model themselves—while +all the time it maintained its fine air of calm +that perplexes the stranger and misleads the native. But +I had found it out, found out its greatness, before age had +dimmed my perceptions and dulled my power of appreciation; +and to find Philadelphia out is to love it.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI: THE ROMANCE OF WORK</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>I was still in the stage of wonder and joy at seeing +myself in print, when work and Philadelphia joined +in the most unlooked for manner to help me tell my +Grandmother that "something" she was so anxiously +waiting to hear. An article on Philadelphia which an intelligent +Editor asked me to write was my introduction to +J. The town that we both love first brought us together, +as it now brings us back to it together after the +many years that have passed since it laid the foundation +of our long partnership.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 307px;"> +<img src="images/gs051.jpg" width="307" height="400" alt="THE CHERRY STREET STAIRS NEAR THE RIVER" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE CHERRY STREET STAIRS NEAR THE RIVER</span> +</div> + +<p>I would say nothing about the article at this late date +had it not added so materially to my life and to my knowledge +of Philadelphia. I am not proud of it as a piece of +literary work. But it seems, as I recall the days of my +apprenticeship, to mark the turning of the ways, to point +to the new road I was destined to take. I got it out the +other day, the first time in over a quarter of a century, +proposing to reprint it, thinking the contrast between my +impressions of Philadelphia thirty years ago and my impressions +of Philadelphia to-day might be amusing. In +memory, it had remained a brilliant performance, one any +editor would be pleased to jump at, and I was astonished to +find it youthful and crude, inarticulate, inadequate not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> +only to the subject itself but to my appreciation of the +subject which at the time was unbounded. I do not know +whether to be more amazed at my failure in it to say what +I wanted to say, or at the Editor's amiability in publishing +it. The article may not have lost all its eloquence for +me, since between the halting lines I can read the story +I did not know how to tell, but for others it would prove +a dull affair and it is best left where it is, forgotten in the +old files of a popular magazine.</p> + +<p>The story I read is one of a series of discoveries with +a romance in each. The way the article came about was +that J. had made etchings of Philadelphia, and the +Editor, who had wisely arranged to use them, thought they +could not be published without accompanying text. When +he asked me, as a young Philadelphian just beginning to +write, to supply this text, he advised me to consult with +J., whom I did not know and whose studio address he +gave me.</p> + +<p>I was thrilled by the prospect, never having been in a +studio nor met an artist, and when it turned out not half so +simple as it looked on paper, when the first catching my +artist was attended with endless delays and difficulties, it +did not lessen the thrill or take away from the sense of +adventure.</p> + +<p>J.'s studio, which he shared with Mr. Harry Poore, +was at the top of what was then the Presbyterian Building +on Chestnut Street above Thirteenth, quite new and +of tremendous height at a time when the sky-scraper<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> +had not been invented nor the elevator become a necessity +of Philadelphia life. Day after day, varying the hour +with each attempt, now in the morning, now at noon, now +toward evening, I toiled up those long flights of stairs, +marvelling at the strange, unaccountable disclosures +through half-opened studio doors, for it was a building of +studios; glad of the support of my Uncle who was seeing +me through this, as he saw me through all my earliest +literary enterprises; arriving at the top, breathless and +panting, only to be informed by a notice, written on paper +and pinned on the tight-locked door, that J. was out and +would be back in half an hour. My Uncle and I were +inclined to interpret this literally, once or twice waiting +trustingly on the dark landing some little while beyond the +appointed time. On one occasion I believe the door was +opened, when we knocked, by Mr. Poore who was not sure +of the length of a half hour as J. reckoned it, but had an +idea it might vary according to circumstances, especially +now that J. was out of town. I went away not annoyed as +I should be to-day, but more stirred than ever by the +novelty of the adventure.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 304px;"> +<img src="images/gs052.jpg" width="304" height="400" alt="THE MORRIS HOUSE ON EIGHTH STREET" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE MORRIS HOUSE ON EIGHTH STREET</span> +</div> + +<p>At last I tied J. down by an appointment, as I should +have done at the start, and he, having returned to town, +kept it to the minute. I think from first to last of this +astonishing business I had no greater shock of astonishment +than when I followed him into his studio. We were +in the Eighteen-Eighties then, when American magazines +and newspapers were making sensational copy out of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> +princely <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'splendor' and 'splendour' were used in this text. This was retained.">splendour</ins> +of the London studios, above all of +Tadema's, Leighton's, Millais': palatial interiors, hung +with priceless tapestries, carpeted with rare Oriental rugs, +shining with old brass and pottery and armour, opening +upon Moorish courts, reached by golden stairs, fragrant +with flowers, filled with soft couches and luxurious +cushions—flamboyant, exotic interiors that would not have +disgraced Ouida's godlike young Guardsmen but that +scarcely seemed to belong to men who made their living +by the work of their hands. Indeed, it was their +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'splendor' and 'splendour' were used in this text. This was retained.">splendour</ins> +that misled so many incompetent young men and women +of the later Victorian age into the belief that art was the +easiest and most luxurious short cut to wealth. But there +was nothing splendid or princely about J.'s studio. It +was frankly a workshop, big and empty, a few unframed +drawings and life studies stuck up on the bare walls, the +floors carpetless, for furniture an easel or two and a few +odd rickety chairs—a room nobody would have +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'dreamt' and 'dreamed' were used in this text. This was retained.">dreamed</ins> +of going into except for work. But then, my first impression +of J. was of a man who did not want to do anything +except work.</p> + +<p>My experience had been that people—if I leave out my +Uncle—worked, not because they wanted to but because +they had to and that, sceptical as they might be on every +other Scriptural point, they were not to be shaken out of +their belief in work as a curse inherited from Adam. J., +evidently, would have found the curse in not being allowed +to work. And as new to me was the enthusiasm with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> +which, while he showed me his prints and drawings, he +began to talk about Philadelphia and its beauty. It was +unusual for Philadelphians to talk about their town at all; +if they did, it was more unusual for them to talk with +enthusiasm; and the interest in it forced upon them by +the Centennial had been for every quality rather than its +beauty. Even my Uncle—though later, in his <i>Memoirs</i>, +he wrote charmingly of the charm of Philadelphia—at +that time affected to admire nothing in it except the unsightly +arches of the Pennsylvania Railroad, bridging +the streets between the Schuylkill and the Station, and +if he made the exception in their favour, it was because +they reminded him of London. Thanks to the Centennial +and the stimulus of hard work, I was not as ignorant of +Philadelphia as I had been, but I was not rid of the old +popular fallacy that the American in search of beauty +must cross the Atlantic and go to Europe. And here was +J., in five minutes telling me more about Philadelphia +than I had +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +in a lifetime, revealing to me in his +drawings the beauty of streets and houses I had not had +the wit to find out for myself, firing me with sudden +enthusiasm in my turn, convincing me that nothing in the +world counted but Philadelphia, opening my eyes to its +unsuspected resources, so that after this I could walk +nowhere without visions of romance where all before had +been <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'everyday' and 'every-day' were used in this text. This was retained.">everyday</ins> +commonplace, leaving me eager and impatient +to start on my next journey of discovery which +was to be in his company.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>To illustrate our article—for <i>ours</i> it had become—J. +passed over the obvious picturesqueness of Philadelphia—the +venerable Pennsylvania Hospital, the beautiful State +House, Christ Church, the Old Swedes, St. Peter's—buildings +for which Philadelphia, after years of indifference, +had at last been exalted by the Centennial into historic +monuments, the show places of the town, labelled and +catalogued—buildings of which J. had already made +records, having begun his work by drawing them, his plate +of the State House among the first he ever etched. He +now went in preference to the obscure by-ways, to the +unpretending survivals of the past, so merged, so +swallowed up in the present, that it needed keen eyes to +detect them: old buildings stamped with age, but too +humble in origin for the Centennial to have resurrected; +busy docks, grimy river banks, crazy old rookeries +abandoned to the business and poverty that claimed them: +to the strange, neglected, never-visited corners of a great +town where beauty springs from the rich soil of labour +and chance, neglect and decay.</p> + +<p>How little I had known of Philadelphia up till then! +One of the very first places to which he took me was the old +Second Street Market that, when I lived within a stone's +throw of it, I had never set my eyes on—the old market +that, south of Pine, forces Second Street to widen and +make space for it and that turns the gable of the little old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> +Court House directly north, breaking the long vista of the +street as St. Clement's and St. Mary's in London break +the vista of the Strand—the old market that I believe the +city proposes to pull down, very likely will have pulled +down before these lines are in print, though there is not a +Philadelphian who would not go into ecstasies over as +shabby and down-at-the-heel Eighteenth Century building +if stumbled upon in an English country town. And as +close to his old family home and mine J. led me into inn +yards that might have come straight from the Borough +on the Surrey side of the Thames, and in and out of dark +mysterious courts which he declared as "good" as the +exploited French and Italian courts every etcher has at one +time or another made a plate of—curious nooks and by-ways +I had never stopped to look at during my Third +Street days and would have seen nothing in if I had.</p> + +<p>And I remember going with him along Front Street, +where I should have thought myself contaminated at a +time when it might have varied the dull round of my +daily walks, so unlike was it to the spick and span streets +I knew,—glimpses at every crossing of the Delaware, +Philadelphia's river of commerce that Philadelphians +never went near unless to take the boat for Torresdale or, +in summers of economy, the steamer for Liverpool; for +several blocks, groups of seafaring men mending sails on +the side-walk, Mariners' Boarding-Houses, a Mariners' +Church, and Philadelphia here the seaport town it is and +always has been; and then, successive odours of the barnyard,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> +fish, spice, coffee, Philadelphia smelling as strong +of the romance of trade as any Eastern bazaar.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 315px;"> +<img src="images/gs053.jpg" width="315" height="400" alt="THE OLD COACHING-INN YARD" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE OLD COACHING-INN YARD</span> +</div> + +<p>And I remember J. and I crossing the forbidden line +into "up town" to find beauty, interest, picturesqueness +in "Market, Arch, Race and Vine"—old houses everywhere, +the old Meeting-House, Betsy Ross' house, Provost +Smith's, the Christ Church Burial Ground at Fifth and +Arch where Franklin is buried, narrow rambling alleys, +red and black brick, and there, up on a house at the corner +of Front, where it is to this day, a sign going back to the +years when Race was still Sassafras Street, and so part of +the original scheme of Philadelphia, to which, with Philadelphia +docility, I had all my life believed South of Market +alone could claim the right.</p> + +<p>And I remember our wandering to the Schuylkill, not +by the neat and well-kept roads and paths of the Park, +but where tumbled-down houses faced it near Callowhill +Street Bridge and works of one kind or another rose from +its banks near Gray's Ferry, and Philadelphia was a town +of industry, of machines, of railroads connecting it with all +parts of the world,—for already to J. "the Wonder of +Work" had made its irresistible appeal. And I remember +our wandering farther, north and south, east and west—interest, +beauty, picturesqueness never failing us—in the +end Philadelphia transformed into a vast Wonderland, +where in one little section people might spend their lives +dancing, paying calls at noon, eating chicken salad and +croquettes from Augustine's, but where in every other they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> +were striving, struggling, toiling, to carry on Penn's traditions +and to give to his town the greatness, power and +beauty he planned for it.</p> + +<p>In these walks I had followed J. into streets and +quarters of the town I had not known. But I would be +leaving out half the story if I did not say how much he +showed me in the streets and quarters I did know. It is +with a town, I suppose, as with life out of which, philosophers +say, we get just as much, or as little, as we bring to +it. I had brought no curiosity, no interest, no sympathy, +to Philadelphia, and Philadelphia therefore had given me +nothing save a monotony of red brick and green shade. +But now I came keen with curiosity, full of interest, aflame +with sympathy, and Philadelphia overwhelmed me with its +gifts. Oh, the difference when, having eyes, one sees! I +was as surprised to learn that I had been living in the midst +of beauty all my life as M. Jourdain was to find he had +been talking prose.</p> + +<p>Down in lower Spruce and all the neighbouring streets, +where I had walked in loneliness longing for something +to happen, something happened at every step—beautiful +Colonial houses, stately doorways, decorative ironwork, +dormer windows, great gables facing each other at street +corners, harmonious proportions—not merely a bit here +and a bit there, but the old Colonial town almost intact, +preserved by Philadelphia through many generations only +to be abandoned now to the Russian Jew and the squalor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> +and the dirt that the Russian Jew takes with him wherever +he goes. In not another American town had the old streets +then changed so little since Colonial days, in not another +were they so well worth keeping unchanged. I had not to +dive into musty archives to unearth the self-evident fact +that the early Friends, when they left England, packed +up with their liberty of conscience the love of beauty in +architecture and, what was more practical, the money to +pay for it; that, in a fine period of English architecture, +they got good English architects,—Wren said to have been +of the number—to design not merely their public buildings, +but their private houses; that, their Founder setting +the example, they carried over in their personal baggage +panelling, carvings, ironwork, red and black brick, furniture, +and the various details they were not likely to procure +in Philadelphia until Philadelphians had moved from their +caves and the primeval forest had been cut down; that +when Philadelphia could contribute its share of the work, +they modified the design to suit climate, circumstances, and +material, and bequeathed to us a Philadelphia with so much +local character that it never could be mistaken for an +English town.</p> + +<p>This used to strike the intelligent foreigner as long as +Philadelphia was content to have a character of its own +and did not bother to be in architectural or any other +movements. "Not a distressingly new-looking city, for +the Queen Anne style in vogue when its prosperity began<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> +is in the main adhered to with Quaker-like precision; good +red brick; numerous rather narrow windows with white +outside shutters, a block cornice along the top of the +façades and the added American feature of marble steps +and entry,"—this, in a letter to William Michael Rossetti, +was Mrs. Gilchrist's description of Philadelphia in the late +Eighteen-Seventies, and it is an appreciative description +though most authorities would probably describe Philadelphia +as Georgian rather than Queen Anne. Philadelphia +did more to let the old character go to rack and ruin during +the years I was away from it than during the two centuries +before, and is to-day repenting in miles upon miles of sham +Colonial. But repentance cannot wipe away the traces +of sin—cannot bring back the old Philadelphia I knew.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 307px;"> +<img src="images/gs054.jpg" width="307" height="400" alt="FRANKLIN'S GRAVE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">FRANKLIN'S GRAVE</span> +</div> + +<p>I do not want to attribute too much to my new and +only partially developed power of observing. Had the +measuring worm not retreated before the sparrow, I might +perhaps have been less prepared during my walks with J. +to admit the beauty of the trees lining every street, as well +as of the houses they shaded. But what is the use of +troubling about the might-have-been? The important +thing is that, with him I did for the first time see how +beautiful are our green, well-shaded streets. With him +too I first saw how beautiful is their symmetry as they run +in their long straight lines and cross each other at right +angles. It was a symmetry I had confused with monotony, +with which most Philadelphians, foolishly misled, still confuse +it. They would rather, for the sake of variety, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> +Penn had left the building and growth of Philadelphia to +chance as the founders of other American towns did—they +would rather boast with New York or Boston of the disorderly +picturesqueness of streets that follow old cow +tracks made before the town was. But Penn understood +the value of order in architecture as in conduct. It is +true that Ruskin, the accepted prophet of my young days, +did not include order among his Seven Lamps, but there +was a good deal Ruskin did not know about architecture, +and a town like Paris in its respect for arrangement—for +order—for a thought-out plan—will teach more at a glance +than all his rhapsodies. Philadelphia has not the noble +perspectives of the French capital nor the splendid buildings +to complete them, but its despised regularity gives it +the repose, the serenity, which is an essential of great art, +whether the art of the painter or the engraver, the sculptor +or the architect. And it gives, too, a suggestiveness, a +mystery we are more apt to seek in architectural disorder +and caprice. I know nobody who has pointed out this +beauty in Penn's design except Mrs. Gilchrist in the description +from which I have already borrowed, and she +merely hints at the truth, not grasping it. Philadelphia to +her was more picturesque and more foreign-looking than +she expected, and her explanation is in the "long straight +streets at right angles to each other, long enough and +broad enough to present that always pleasing effect of +vista-converging lines that stretch out indefinitely and +look as if they must certainly lead somewhere very pleasant,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> +the streets that are to the town what "the open +road" is to the country,—the long, white, straight road +beckoning who can say where?</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>It was without the slightest intention on my part that +the vista-converging lines of the streets led me direct to +William Penn. But I defy anybody to do a little thinking +while walking through the streets of Philadelphia and not +be led to him, so for eternity has he stamped them with his +vivid personality—not William Penn, the shadowy prig +of the school history, but William Penn, the man with a +level head, big ideas, and the will to carry them out—three +things that make for genius. To the weakling of to-day +the fight for liberty of conscience would loom up so +gigantic a task as to fill to overflowing his little span here +below. But in the fight as Penn fought it, the material +details could be overlooked as little as the spiritual, the +comfort of the bodies of his people no more neglected than +the freedom of their souls. He did not stop to preach +about town-planning and garden cities, and improved +housing for the workman, like the would-be reformer of to-day. +With no sentimental pose as saviour of the people, +no drivel about reforming and elevating and sweetening +the lives of humanity, no aspiration towards "world-betterment," +Penn made sure that Philadelphia should be +the green town he thought it ought to be and that men and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> +women, whatever their appointed task, should have decent +houses to live in. He had the common-sense to understand +that his colonists would be the sturdier and the +better equipped for the work they had to do if they +lived like men and not like beasts, and that a town +as far south as Philadelphia called for many gardens and +much green shade. The most beautiful architecture is +that which grows logically out of the needs of the people. +That is why Penn's city as he designed it was and is a +beautiful city, to which English and German town reformers +should come for the hints Philadelphians are so +misguided as to seek from them.</p> + +<p>I could not meet Penn in his pleasant streets and miss +the succession of Friends who took over the responsibility +of ensuring life and reality to his design, not allowing it, +like Wren's in London, to lapse into a half-forgotten +archaeological curiosity. Personally. I knew nothing of +the Friends and envied J. who did because he was one of +them, as I never could be, as nobody, not born to it, can. +I had seen them, as alas! they are seen no longer: quiet, +dignified men in broad-brimmed hats, sweet-faced women +in delicate greys and browns, filling our streets in the +spring at the time of Yearly Meeting. Once or twice I +had seen them at home, the women in white caps and fichus, +quiet and composed, sitting peacefully in their old-time +parlours simple and bare but filled with priceless Sheraton +or Chippendale. They looked, both in the open streets and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> +at their own firesides, so placid, so detached from the +world's cares, it had not occurred to me that they could +be the makers of the town's beauty and the sinews of its +strength. But in my new mood I could nowhere get far +from them.</p> + +<p>Ghosts of the early Friends haunted the old streets +and the old houses and, mingling with them, were ghosts +of the World's People who had lost no time in coming to +share their town and ungraciously abuse the privilege. +The air was thick with association. J. and I walked in +an atmosphere of the past, delightfully conscious of it but +never troubling to reduce it to dry facts. We could not +have been as young as we were and not scorn any approach +to pedantry, not as lief do without ghosts as to grub them +up out of the Philadelphia Library or the Historical Society. +We left it to the antiquary to say just where the first +Friends landed and the corner-stone of their first building +was laid, just in which Third Street house Washington +once danced, in which Front Street house Bishop White +once lived. It was for the belated Boswell, not for us, to +follow step by step the walks abroad of Penn, or Franklin, +or any of our town's great men. It was no more necessary +to be historians in order to feel the charm of the past than +to be architects in order to feel the charm of the houses, +and for no amount of exact knowledge would we have +exchanged the romance which enveloped us.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs055.jpg" width="400" height="308" alt="ARCH STREET MEETING" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ARCH STREET MEETING</span> +</div> + +<p>Could I have put into words some of the emotion I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> +felt in gathering together my material, what an article +I would have made! But my words came with difficulty, +and indeed I have never had the "ready pen" of the +journalist, always I have been shy in expressing emotion +of any kind. No reader could have guessed from my +article my enthusiasm as I wrote it. But at least it did +get written and my pleasure in it was not disturbed by +doubt. I was too enthralled by what I had to say to +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realize</ins> +that I had not managed to say it at all.</p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>With the publication of the article our task was at an +end, but not our walks together. J. and I had got into the +habit of them, it was a pleasant habit, we saw no reason +to give it up.</p> + +<p>Sometimes we walked with new work as an object. +There were articles about Philadelphia for <i>Our Continent</i>. +We called it work—learning Romany—when we both +walked with my Uncle up Broad Street to Oakdale Park, +and through Camden and beyond to the Reservoir, where +the Gypsies camped, and made Camden in my eyes, not +the refuge of all in doubt, debt, or despair as its traditions +have described it, but a rival in romance of Bagdad or +Samarcand. When we walked still further, taking the +train to help us out, to near country towns for the autumn +fairs, never missing a side show, we called this the search +for local colour, and I filled note-books with notes. Sometimes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> +we walked for no more practical purpose than +pleasure in Philadelphia. And we could walk for days, we +could walk for miles, and exhaust neither the pleasure +nor the town that I once fancied I knew by heart if I +walked from Market to Pine and from the Delaware to +the Schuylkill.</p> + +<p>I remember as a remarkable incident my discovery of +the suburbs. With the prejudice borrowed from my +Father, I had cultivated for all suburbs something of the +large sweeping contempt which, in the Eighteen-Nineties, +Henley and the <i>National Observer</i>, carrying on the tradition +of Thackeray, made it the fashion to profess for the +suburbs of London. West Philadelphia and Germantown +were no less terms of opprobrium in my mouth than Clapham +and Brixton in Henley's. But Henley, though it was +a mistake to insist upon Clapham with its beautiful Common +and old houses and dignified air, was expressing his +splendid scorn of the second-rate, the provincial, in art and +in letters. I was only expressing, parrot-like, a pose that +did not belong to me, but to my Father in whose outlook +upon life and things there was a whimsical touch, and who +carried off' his prejudices with humour.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs056.jpg" width="400" height="308" alt="CLIVEDEN, THE CHEW HOUSE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">CLIVEDEN, THE CHEW HOUSE</span> +</div> + +<p>I was the more foolish in this because few towns, if +any, have lovelier suburbs than Philadelphia. Their loveliness +is another part of our inheritance from William Penn +who set no limits to his dream of a green country town, and +from the old Friends who, in deference to his desire, lined +not only their streets but their roads with trees. This is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> +only as it should be, I thought when, reading the letters +of John Adams, I came upon his description of the road +to Kensington and beyond, "straight as the streets of +Philadelphia, on each side ... beautiful rows of trees, +button-woods, oaks, walnuts, cherries, and willows." In +our time, scarcely a road out of Philadelphia is without +the same beautiful rows, if not the same variety in the +trees, and while much of the open country it ran through +in John Adams' day has been built up with town and +suburban houses, the trees still line it on each side. Everybody +knows the beauty of the leafy roads of the Main +Line, quite a correct thing to know, the Main Line being +the refuge of the Philadelphian pushed out of "Chestnut, +Walnut, Spruce and Pine" by business and the Russian +Jew combined. But the Main Line has not the monopoly +of suburban beauty, though it may of suburban fashion. +The Main Street in Germantown, with its peaceful old +grey stone houses and great overshadowing trees, has no +rival at home or abroad, and I have seen as commonplace a +street as Walnut in West Philadelphia, its uninteresting +houses screened behind the two long lines of trees, become +in the golden light of a summer afternoon as stately an +avenue as any at Versailles or St. Germain.</p> + +<p>Not only the trees, but the past went with us to +Germantown. Has any other American suburb so many +old houses to boast? Stenton, the Chew House, the Johnson +House, the Morris House, the Wistar House, Wyck—are +there any other Colonial houses with nobler interiors,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> +statelier furniture, sweeter gardens? I recall the pillared +hall of Chew House, the finely proportioned entrance and +stairway of Stenton, the garden of Wyck as I last saw it—rather +overgrown, heavy with the perfume of roses and +syringa, the June sun low behind the tall trees that stand +close to the wall along Walnut Lane;—I recall the memories +clustering about those old historic homes, about every +lane and road and path, and I wonder that Germantown +is not one of the show places of the world. But the +foreigner, to whom Philadelphia is a station between New +York and Washington or New York and Chicago, has +never heard of it, nor has the rest of America to whom +Philadelphia is the junction for Atlantic City. With the +exception of Stenton, the old Germantown houses are for +use, not for show, still lived in by the families who have +lived in them from the beginning, and I love them too well +to want to see them overtaken by the fate of sights starred +in Baedeker, even while I wonder why they have escaped.</p> + +<p>At times J. and I walked in the green valley of the +Wissahickon, along the well-kept road past the old white +taverns, with wide galleries and suppers of cat-fish and +waffles, which had not lost their pleasant primitiveness to +pass themselves off as rural Rumpelmeyers where ladies +stop for afternoon tea. Can the spring be fairer anywhere +than in and around Philadelphia when wistaria +blossoms on every wall and the country is white with dogwood? +Often we wandered in the Wissahickon woods, by +narrow footpaths up the low hillsides, so often that, wherever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> +I may be, certain effects of brilliant sunshine filtering +through the pale green of early spring foliage will send me +straight back to the Wissahickon and to the days when I +could not walk in Philadelphia or its suburbs and not +strike gold at every step. And the Wissahickon was but +one small section of the Park, of which the corrupt government +Philadelphia loves to rail at made the largest and +fairest, at once the wildest and most wisely laid-out playground, +in America. Will a reform Government, with +all its boasting, do as much for Philadelphia? I had +skimmed the surface only on those boating parties up the +river and those walking parties in the starlit or moonlit +shade. Wide undiscovered stretches lay off the beaten +track, and the mansions of the Park—Strawberry, Belmont, +Mount Pleasant—were well stocked, not only with +lemonade and cake and peanuts, with croquettes and +chicken salad, but with beauty and associations for those +who knew how to give the order. And, greater marvel, +beauty—classic beauty—was to be had even in the Fairmount +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: 'Waterworks,' 'Water Works,' and 'Water-Works' were used in this text. This was retained.">Water Works</ins> +that, after I left school, I had looked +down upon as a childish entertainment provided for the +holidays, beneath the consideration of my maturer years.</p> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<p>Of all our walks, none was better than the walk to +Bartram's on the banks of the Schuylkill beyond Gray's +Ferry. It seemed very far then, before the trolley passed +by its gate, and before the rows of little two-story houses<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> +had begun to extend towards it like the greedy tentacles +of the great town. The City Government had not taken it +over, it was not so well looked after. The old grey stone +house, with the stone tablet on its walls bearing witness +that his Lord was adored by John Bartram, had not yet +been turned into a museum. I am not sure whether the +trees around it—the trees collected from far and near—were +learnedly labelled as they are now. The garden had +grown wild, the thicket below was a wilderness. It is right +that the place should be cared for. The city could not +afford to lose the beauty one of its most famous citizens, +who was one of the most famous botanists of his day, +built up, and his family preserved, for it, and when I +returned I welcomed the sign this new care gave of Philadelphia's +interest, so long in the awakening. But Bartram's +was more beautiful in its neglect, as an old church +is more beautiful before the restorer pulls down the ivy +and scrapes and polishes the stone. Many were the Sunday +afternoons J. and I spent there, and many the hours +we sat talking on the little bench at the lower end of the +wilderness, where we looked out on the river and planned +new articles.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs057.jpg" width="400" height="309" alt="BARTRAM'S" title="" /> +<span class="caption">BARTRAM'S</span> +</div> + +<p>When our walks together had become too strong a +habit to be broken and we decided to make the habit one +for life, we went back again and again to Bartram's and +on that same little bench, looking out upon the river, we +planned work for the long years we hoped were ahead of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> +us: perhaps seeing the future in the more glowing colours +for the contrast with the past about us, the ashes of the +life and beauty from which our phœnix was to soar. The +work then planned carried and kept us thousands of miles +away, but it belongs none the less to the old scenes, where +it was inspired, and I like to think that, though the chances +of this work have made us exiles for years, the memory of +our life as we have lived it is inseparable from the memory +of Bartram's or, indeed, of Philadelphia which, through +work, I <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +to see and to love.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII: PHILADELPHIA AND LITERATURE</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>On the principle that nothing interests a man—or a +woman—so much as shop, I had no sooner +begun to write than I saw Philadelphia divided +not between the people who could and could not go to the +Assembly and the Dancing Class, but between the people +who could and could not write; and, after I began to write +for illustration, between the people who could and could +not paint and draw. It had never before occurred to me +to look for art and literature in Philadelphia.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs058.jpg" width="400" height="298" alt="CARPENTER'S HALL INTERIOR" title="" /> +<span class="caption">CARPENTER'S HALL INTERIOR</span> +</div> + +<p>At that time, you had, literally, to look for the literature +to find it. Philadelphia, with its usual reticence and +conscientiousness in preventing any Philadelphian from +becoming a prophet in Philadelphia, had hidden its literary, +with its innumerable other, lights under a bushel, +content itself to know they were there, if nobody else did. +As towns, like men, are apt to be accepted at their own +valuation, most Americans would then have thought it +about as useful to look for snakes in Ireland as for literature +in Philadelphia. I am not sure that the Philadelphian +did not agree with them. Recently, I have heard him, in +his new zeal for Philadelphia, talk as if it were the biggest +literary thing on earth, the headquarters of letters in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> +United States, a boast which I am told Indianapolis also +makes and, as far as I am concerned, can keep on making +undisputed, for I do not believe in measuring literature +like so much sheet iron or calico. But no matter what we +have come to in Philadelphia, in the old days the Philadelphian +seldom gave his lions a chance to roar at home or +paid the least attention to them if they tried to. I rather +think he would have affected to share the Western Congressman's +opinion of "them literary fellers" when the +literary fellers came from his native town.</p> + +<p>But the Philadelphian must have done a great deal of +reading to judge by the number of public libraries in the +town,—the Philadelphia Library, the Ridgway, the Mercantile, +the Free Public Library, the University Library, +the Bryn Mawr College Library, the Friends' Germantown +Library, the Library of the Historical Society, and +no doubt dozens I know nothing about—and there were +always collectors from the days of Logan and Dr. Rush +to those of Mr. Widener, George C. Thomas and Governor +Pennypacker. But the Philadelphia reading man never +talked books and the Philadelphia collector never vaunted +and advertised his treasures, as he does now that collecting +is correct. The average man kept his books out of sight. I +remember few in my Grandfather's house, and not a bookcase +from top to bottom—few in any other house except +my Father's. But I know that many people had books and +a library set apart to read them in, and I have been astonished +since to see the large collections in houses where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> +of old I had never noticed or suspected their presence. The +Philadelphian was as reticent about his books and his +pleasure in them as about everything else, with the result +that he got the credit for neither, even at home. This had +probably something to do with the fact that though, as far +back as I can remember, I had had a fancy for books and +for reading, I grew up with the idea that for literature, as +for beauty, the Atlantic had to be crossed, that it was not in +the nature of things for Philadelphia to have had a literary +past, to claim a literary present, or to hope for a literary +future. But as I had discovered my mistake about the +beauty during those walks with J., so in my modest stall in +the literary shop, I +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +how far out I had been about +the literature. It was the same story over again. I had +only to get interested, and there was everything in the +world to interest me.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>There was the past, for Philadelphia had had a literary +past, and not at all an empty past, but one full of the romance +of effort and pride of achievement. Because Philadelphians +did not begin to write the minute they landed +on the banks of the Delaware, some wise people argue that +Friends were then, as now, unliterary. But what of William +Penn, whose writings have become classics? What +of Thomas Elwood, the friend of Milton? What of +George Fox who, if unlettered, was a born writer no less +than Bunyan? Friends did not write and publish books<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> +right off in Philadelphia for the same excellent reason that +other Colonists did not in other Colonial towns. Living +was an absorbing business that left them no time for writing, +and printing presses and publishers' offices and book +stores did not strike them as immediate necessities in the +wilderness. It was not out of consideration that the early +Philadelphia Friends bequeathed nothing to the now sadly +overladen shelves of the British Museum and the Library +of Congress.</p> + +<p>When leisure came Philadelphians were readier to +devote it to science. According to Mr. Sydney Fisher, +Pennsylvania has done more for science than any other +State: a subject upon which my profound ignorance bids +me be silent. But science did not keep them altogether +from letters. No people ever had a greater itch for writing. +Look at the length of their correspondence, the minuteness +of their diaries. And they broke into poetry on the +slightest provocation. Authorities say that no real poem +appeared in America before 1800, but the blame lies not +alone with Philadelphia. It did what it could. Boston +may boast of Anne Bradstreet who was rhyming before +most New Englanders had time for reading, but so could +Philadelphia brag of Deborah Logan—if Philadelphia +ever bragged of anything Philadelphian—and I am willing +to believe there is no great difference between the two +poetesses without labouring through their verses to prove +myself wrong. And the Philadelphian was as prolific as +any other Colonial in horrible doggerel to his mistress's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> +hoops and bows, to her tears and canary birds. And as +far as I know, only a Philadelphian among Colonial poets +is immortalized in the Dunciad, though possibly Ralph, +Franklin's friend to whom the honour fell, would rather +have been forgotten than remembered solely because his +howls to Cynthia made night hideous for Pope. And +where else did the young men so soon form themselves into +little groups to discourse seriously upon literature and +kindred matters, as they walked sedately in the woods +along the Schuylkill? Where else was there so soon a +society—a junto—devoted to learning?</p> + +<p>In innumerable ways I could see, once I could see +anything, how Philadelphia was preparing itself all along +for literary pursuits and accomplishment. Let me brag a +little, if Philadelphia won't. Wasn't it in Germantown +that the first paper mill of the Colonies was set up? Wasn't +it there that the New Testament was printed in German—and +went into seven editions—before any other Colony +had the enterprise to print it in English, so that Saur's +Testament is now a treasure for the collector? Isn't it +maintained by some authorities, if others dispute it, that +the first Bible in English was published in Philadelphia by +Robert Aitken, at "Pope's Head above the Coffee House, +in Market Street"? And Philadelphia issued the first +American daily paper, the most important of the first +American reviews, the most memorable Almanac of +Colonial days—can any other compete with Poor Richard's? +And Philadelphia opened the first Circulating<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> +Library—the Philadelphia Library is no benevolent upstart +of to-day. And Philadelphia publishers were for +years the most go-ahead and responsible—who did not +know the names of Cary, Lea, Blanchard, Griggs, +Lippincott, knew nothing of the publishing trade. And +Philadelphia book stores, with Lippincott's leading, +were the best patronized. And Philadelphia had the +monopoly of the English book trade, with Thomas Wardle +to direct it. And Philadelphia held its own views on copyright +and stuck to them in the face of opposition for +years—whether right or wrong does not matter, the thing +is that it cared enough to have views. There is a record +for you! Why the literary man had only to appear, and +Philadelphia was all swept and garnished for his comfort +and convenience.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs059.jpg" width="400" height="310" alt="MAIN STREET, GERMANTOWN" title="" /> +<span class="caption">MAIN STREET, GERMANTOWN</span> +</div> + +<p>And the literary man did appear, with amazing +promptness under the circumstances. When the demand +was for political writers, Philadelphia supplied Franklin, +Dickinson, and a whole host of others, until it is all the +Historical Society of +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Pensylvania'">Pennsylvania</ins> +can do to cope with +their pamphlets. When the demand was for native fiction, +Philadelphia produced the first American novelist, Charles +Brockden Brown, and if Philadelphians do not read him +in our day, Shelley did in his, which ought to be as much +fame as any pioneer could ask for. When the need was for +an American Cookery Book, Philadelphia presented Miss +Leslie to the public who received her with such appreciation +that, in the First Edition, she is harder to find than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> +Mrs. Glasse. When, with the years, the past rose in +value, Philadelphia gave to America an antiquary, and +John Watson, with his Annals, set a fashion in Philadelphia +that had to wait a good half century for followers. +And when the writer was multiplied all over the country +and the reader with him, Philadelphia provided the periodical, +the annual, the parlour-table book, that the one wrote +for and the other subscribed to—an endless succession of +them: <i>The Casket</i>, <i>The Gift</i>, <i>The Souvenir</i>, which I have +no desire to disturb on their obscure shelves; the <i>Philadelphia +Saturday Museum</i>, and <i>Burton's Gentleman's Magazine</i>, +to me the emptiest of empty names; <i>Sartain's Union +Magazine</i>, which I might as well be honest and say I have +never seen; <i>Graham's</i>, in its prime, unrivalled, unapproached; +<i>Godey's Lady's Book</i>, offering its pages alike +to the newest verse and the latest mode, the popular magazine +that every American saw at his dentist's or his doctor's, +edited by Mrs. Sarah Josepha Hale, for a woman, +then as always, could get where she chose, if she had the +mind to, without the help of arson and suicide; <i>Peterson's</i>, +which I recall only in its title; <i>Lippincott's</i>, in my time the +literary test or standard in Philadelphia and scrupulously +taken in by the Philadelphia householder. I can see it +still, lying soberly on the centre table in the back parlour +of the Eleventh and Spruce Street house, never defaced +or thumbed, I fancy seldom opened, but like everything +in the house, like my Grandfather himself, a type, a symbol<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> +of Philadelphia respectability. It was as much an obligation +for the respectable Philadelphia citizen to subscribe +to <i>Lippincott's</i> as to belong to the Historical Society, to +be a member of the Philadelphia Library, to buy books +for Christmas presents at Lippincott's or Porter and +Coates'. The Philadelphian, who had no particular use +for a book as a book or, if he had, kept the fact to himself, +was content to parade it as an ornament, and no parlour +was without its assortment of pretty and expensive +parlour-table books, received as Christmas presents, and +as purely ornamental as the pictures on the wall and the +vases on the mantelpiece. I know one Philadelphian who +carried this decorative use of books still further and nailed +them to the ceiling to explain that the room they decorated +was a library, which nobody would have suspected for a +moment, as they were the only volumes in it.</p> + +<p>For the man who had a living to make out of literature, +Philadelphia was a good place, not to come away from, +but to go to, and a number of American men of letters +did go, though I need hardly add Philadelphia made as +little of the fact as possible. In Philadelphia Washington +Irving, sometimes called America's first literary man, published +his books, but truth compels me to admit that he +fared better when he handed them over to Putnam in New +York; though of late years, the Lippincotts have done +much to atone for the old failure by their successful issues +of <i>The Alhambra</i> and <i>The Traveller</i>. To Philadelphia<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> +magazines, N. P. Willis, and there was no more popular +American writer, pledged himself for months ahead. To +Philadelphia, Lowell came from Boston to get work. +Poe deserted Richmond and the South for Philadelphia, +where he contributed to Philadelphia magazines, edited +them, planned new ones, while Philadelphia waited until +he was well out of the world to know that he ever had lived +there. Altogether, when I came upon the scene, Philadelphia +had had a highly creditable literary past, and was +having a highly creditable literary present, and, in pursuance +of its invariable policy, was making no fuss about it.</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>As I look back, the three most conspicuous figures of +this literary present were Charles Godfrey Leland, George +Boker and Walt Whitman. All three were past middle +age, they had done most of their important work, they had +gained an international reputation. But that of course +made no difference to Philadelphia. I doubt if it had +heard of George Boker as a man of letters, though it knew +him politically and also socially, as he had not lost his +interest in society and the Philadelphia Club. My Uncle, +having no use for society in Philadelphia and saying so +with his accustomed vigour, and not having busied himself +with politics for many years, was ignored unreservedly. +Walt Whitman, who probably would not have been considered +eligible for the Assembly and the Dancing Class<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> +had he condescended to know of their existence, did not +exist socially, and it is a question if he would have collected +round him his ardent worshippers from Philadelphia had +he not had the advantage of having been born somewhere +else. If I am not mistaken, this worship had not begun +in my time, when he was more apt to receive a visitor from +London or Boston than from Philadelphia.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs060.jpg" width="400" height="308" alt="ARCH STREET MEETING—INTERIOR" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ARCH STREET MEETING—INTERIOR</span> +</div> + +<p>The fact that it was my good fortune to know these +three men contributed considerably to my new and pleasant +feeling of self-importance. When I wrote the life of +my Uncle a few years ago, I had much to say of him and +my relations with him at this period, and I do not want to +repeat myself. But I can no more leave him out of my +recollections of literary Philadelphia than out of my personal +reminiscences. When he entered so intimately into +my life he was nearer sixty than fifty, but he had lost nothing +of his vigour nor of his physical beauty—tall, large, +long-bearded, a fine profile, the eyes of the seer. He was +fastidious in dress, with a leaning to light greys and +browns, and a weakness for canes which he preferred thin +and elegant. I remember his favourite was black and had +an altogether unfashionable silver, ruby-eyed dragon for +handle. On occasions to which it was appropriate, he wore +a silk hat; on others, more informal, he exchanged it for +a large soft felt—a modified cowboy hat—which suited him +better, though he would not have forgiven me had I had +the courage to say so to his face, his respect for the conventions,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> +always great, having been intensified during his +long residence in England. It seems superfluous to add +that he could not pass unnoticed in Philadelphia streets, +which did not run to cowboy hats or dragon-handled canes +or any deviations from the approved Philadelphia dress. +Nor did his fancy for peering into shop windows make him +less conspicuous, and as his daily walk was hardly complete +if it did not lead to his buying something in the shop, +were it only a five-cent bit of modern blue-and-white +Japanese china, this meant that before his purchase was +handed over to me, as it usually was, his pleasure being +not in the possession but in the buying, he had parcels to +carry, a shocking breach of good manners in Philadelphia. +In his company therefore I became a conspicuous figure +myself, and I was often his companion in the streets; but +to this I had no objection, having been inconspicuous far +too long for my taste.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 310px;"> +<img src="images/gs061.jpg" width="310" height="400" alt="FRONT AND CALLOWHILL" title="" /> +<span class="caption">FRONT AND CALLOWHILL</span> +</div> + +<p>He had written his <i>Breitmann Ballads</i> years before +when the verse of no other American of note—unless it +was Longfellow's and Whittier's and Lowell's in the <i>Biglow +Papers</i>—had had so wide a circulation. He had also +published one or two of his Gypsy books, never surpassed +except by Borrow. And he was engaged in endless new +tasks—more Gypsy papers, Art in the Schools, Indian +Legends, Comic Ballads, Essays on Education, and I did +not mind what since my excitement was in being admitted +for the first time into the companionship of a man who devoted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> +himself to writing, to whom writing was business, +who sat down at his desk after breakfast and wrote as my +Father after breakfast went down to his office and bought +and sold stocks, who never stopped except for his daily +walk, who got back to work if there was a free hour before +dinner and who, after dinner, read until he went to bed. +Moreover, he had brought with him the aroma, as it were, +of the literary life in London. He had met many of the +people who, because they had written books, were my +heroes. Here would have been literature enough to transfigure +Philadelphia had I known no other writers.</p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>But, through him, I did know others. First of all, +George Boker with whom, however, I could not pretend +to friendship or more than the barest acquaintance. In +the streets he was as noticeable a figure as my Uncle, +though given neither to cowboy hats and dragon-handled +canes nor to peering into shop windows and carrying +parcels. Like my Uncle, he was taller than the average +man, and handsomer, his white hair and white military +moustache giving him a more distinguished air, I fancy, in +his old age than was his in his youth. His smile was of the +kindliest, the characteristic I remember best. He had returned +from his appointments as Minister to Russia and +Turkey and had given up active political and diplomatic +life. He had written most of his poems, if not all, including<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> +the <i>Francesca da Rimini</i> which Lawrence Barrett was +shortly afterwards to put on the stage, and he impressed +me as a man who had had his fill of life and work and +adventure and was content to settle down to the comforts +of Philadelphia. He and my Uncle, who had been friends +from boyhood or babyhood, spent every Sunday afternoon +together. My Uncle had large spacious rooms on the +ground floor of a house in South Broad Street where the +Philadelphia Art Club now is, and there George Boker +came Sunday after Sunday and there, if I dropped in, I +saw him. I had the discretion never to stay long, for I +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realize</ins>d +that their intimate free talk was valued too much +by both for them to care to have it interrupted. I can +remember nothing he ever said—I have an idea he was a +man who did not talk a great deal, while my Uncle did; +my memory is of his kindly smile and my sense that here +was one of the literary friendships I had read of in books. +So, I thought, might Dr. Johnson and Goldsmith have +met and talked, or Lamb and Coleridge, and Broad Street +seemed tinged with the romance that I took for granted +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'colored' and 'coloured' were used in this text. This was retained.">coloured</ins> +the Temple in London and Gough Square.</p> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<p>Through my Uncle I also met Walt Whitman, and he +impressed me still more with the romance of literature. +He was so unexpected in Philadelphia, for which I claim +him in his last years, Camden being little more than a +suburb, whatever Camden itself may think. I could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> +almost have imagined that it was for the humour of the +thing he came to settle where his very appearance was an +offence to the proprieties. George Boker was scrupulously +correct. My Uncle's hat and dragon-handled cane +only seemed to emphasize his inborn Philadelphia shrinking +from eccentricity. But Walt Whitman, from top to +toe, proclaimed the man who did not bother to think of the +conventions, much less respect them. You saw it in his +long white hair and long white beard, in his loose light +grey clothes, in the soft white shirt unlaundered and open +at the neck, in the tall, formless grey hat like no hat ever +worn in Philadelphia. To have been stopped by him on +Chestnut Street—a street he loved—would have filled me +with confusion and shame in the days before literature had +become my shop. But once literature blocked my horizon, +to be stopped by him lifted me up to the seventh heaven. +If people turned to look, and Philadelphians never grew +quite accustomed to his presence, my pleasure was the +greater. I took it for a visible sign that I was known, +recognized, and accepted in the literary world. And what +a triumph in streets where, of old, life had appalled me by +its emptiness of incident!</p> + +<p>In one way or another I saw a good deal of Walt +Whitman, but most frequently by the chance which increased +the picturesqueness of the meeting. I called on +him in the Camden house described many times by many +people: in my memory, a little house, the room where I +was received simple and bare, the one ornament as unexpected<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> +there as Walt Whitman himself in Philadelphia, +for it was an old portrait, dark and dingy, of an ancestor; +and I wondered if an ancestor so ancient as to grow dark +and dingy in a frame did not make it easier to play the +democrat and call every man comrade—or <i>Camerado</i>, I +should say, as Walt Whitman said, with his curious fondness +for foreign words and sounds. But though I saw him +at home, he is more associated in my memory with the ferry-boat +for Camden when my Uncle and I were on our +way to the Gypsy's camping place near the reservoir; +and with the corner of Front and Market and the bootblack's +big chair by the Italian's candy and fruit stand +where he loved to sit, and where I loved to see him, +though, Philadelphian at heart, I trembled for his audacity; +and with the Market Street horse-car, where he was +already settled in his corner before it started and where +the driver and the conductor, passing through, nodded to +him and called him "Walt," and where he was as happy +as the modern poet in his sixty-horse-power car. He was +happiest when sitting out in front with the driver, and I +have rarely been as proud as the afternoon he gave up that +privileged seat to stay with my Uncle and myself inside. +His greeting was always charming. He would take a hand +of each of us, hold the two in his for a minute or so beaming +upon us, never saying very much. I remember his +leading us once, with our hands still in his, from the fruit-stand +to the tobacconist's opposite to point out to my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> +Uncle the wooden figure of an Indian at the door, for +which he professed a great admiration as an example of the +art of the people before they were trained in the Minor +Arts.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs062.jpg" width="400" height="310" alt="THE ELEVATED AT MARKET STREET WHARF" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE ELEVATED AT MARKET STREET WHARF</span> +</div> + +<p>These chance meetings were always the best, and he +told us that he thought them so, that he loved his accidental +meetings with friends—there were many he prized among +his most valued reminiscences. And I remember his story +of Longfellow having gone over to Camden purposely to +call on him, and not finding him at home, and their running +into each other on the ferry-boat to Market Street, +and Longfellow saying that he had come from the house +deeply disappointed, regretting the long quiet talk he had +hoped for, but deciding that perhaps the strange chance +of the meeting on the water was better. My Uncle, had he +been hurrying to catch a train, would still have managed +to talk philosophy and art education. But I remember +Walt Whitman also saying that the ferry and the corner +of Market Street and the Market Street car were hardly +places for abstract discussion, though the few things said +there were the less easily forgotten for being snatched +joyfully by the way.</p> + +<p>It was one day in the Market Street car that he and +my Uncle had the talk which left with me the profoundest +impression. As a rule I was too engrossed in thinking +what a great person I was, when in such company, to shine +as a reporter. But on this occasion the subject was the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> +School of Industrial Arts in which I was giving my Uncle +the benefit of my incompetent assistance. He asked Walt +Whitman to come and see it, telling him a little of its +aims and methods. Whitman refused, amiably but positively. +I cannot recall his exact words, but I gathered +from them that he had no sympathy with schemes savouring +of benevolence or reform, that he believed in leaving +people to work out their own salvation, and this, coming +as it did after I had seen for myself the terms he was on +with the driver and conductor, expressed more eloquently +than his verse his definition of democracy. I may be mistaken, +but I thought then and have ever since that his belief +in the people carried him to the point of thinking they +knew better than the philanthropist what they needed and +did not need. My Uncle was not of accord with him and I, +who am neither democrat nor philanthropist, would not +pretend to decide between them. My Uncle did not like +Walt Whitman's attitude and refusal, convinced as he was +of the good to the people that was to come of the reform +he was initiating, though he was constitutionally incapable +of meeting the people he was reforming on equal terms. +The twinkle in Walt Whitman's eye when he refused gave +me the clue to the large redeeming humour with which he +looked upon a foolish world, seeing each individual in the +place appointed, right in it, fitting into it, unfit for any +other he did not make for himself of his own desire and +courage—the humour without which the human tragedy +would not be bearable.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span></p> + +<p>I wish I could have had more talk with Whitman, I +wish I had been older or more experienced, that I might +have got nearer to him—or so I felt in those old days. I +have now an idea that his silence was more effective than +his speech, that if he had said more to any of his devoted +following he might have been less of a prophet. But +his tranquil presence was in itself sufficient to open a new +outlook, and it reconciled me to the scheme of the universe +for good or for ill. His personality impressed me far +more than his poems. It seemed to me to explain them, +to interpret them, as nothing else could—his few words of +greeting worth pages of the critic's eloquent analysis.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII: PHILADELPHIA AND LITERATURE—CONTINUED</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>I had glimpses into other literary vistas, but mostly +from a respectful and highly appreciative distance. +How I wish I could recapture even as much as the +shadow of the old rapturous awe with which any man or +woman who had ever made a book inspired me!</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/gs064.jpg" width="310" height="400" alt="DR. FURNESS'S HOUSE, WEST WASHINGTON SQUARE, +JUST BEFORE IT WAS PULLED DOWN" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption">DR. FURNESS'S HOUSE, WEST WASHINGTON SQUARE<br /> +<span style="font-size: smaller;">JUST BEFORE IT WAS PULLED DOWN</span></span> +</div> + +<p>There was reason for awe when the man was Dr. +Horace Howard Furness, the editor of Shakespeare, and +if Philadelphia knew its duty better than to draw attention +to so scholarly a performance by a Philadelphian, scholars +out of Philadelphia, who were not hampered by Philadelphia +conventions, hailed it as the best edition of Shakespeare +there could be. I must always regret that in his +case I succeeded in having no more than the glimpse. +Most of my literary introductions came through my Uncle +who, though he knew Dr. Furness, saw less and less of +him as time went on, partly I think because of one of those +small misunderstandings that are more unpardonable than +the big offences—certainly they were to my Uncle. Dr. +Furness' father, old Dr. Furness the Unitarian Minister, +meeting him in the street one day, asked him gaily, but I +have no doubt with genuine interest, how his fad, the school, +was getting on. My Uncle, who could not stand having an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> +enterprise so serious to him treated lightly by others, retorted +by asking Dr. Furness how his fad the pulpit was +getting on. The result was coolness. The chances are that +Dr. Furness never +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realize</ins>d +the enormity of which he had +been guilty, but my Uncle could neither forget his jest +nor forgive him and his family for it. And his heart was +not softened until many years afterwards, when in far +Florence he heard that Dr. Furness wished for his return +to Philadelphia that he might vindicate his claim, in danger +of being overlooked, as the first to have introduced the +study of the Minor Arts into the Public Schools.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wister was another Philadelphia literary celebrity +whose work had made her known to all America +by name, the only way she was known to me. It was my +loss, for they say she was more charming than her work. +But to Philadelphia no charm of personality, no popularity +of work, could shed lustre upon her name, which was her +chief glory: literature was honoured when a Wister +stooped to its practice. On her translations of German +novels, Philadelphians of my generation were brought up. +After <i>Faith Gartney's Girlhood</i> and <i>Queechy</i> and <i>The +Wide, Wide World</i>, no tales were considered so innocuous +for the young, not yet provided with the mild and exemplary +adventures of the tedious Elsie. Would the <i>Old +Mam'selle's Secret</i> survive re-reading, I wonder? The +favourites of yesterday have a way of turning into the +bores of to-day. Not long ago I tried re-reading Scott +whom in my youth I adored, but his once magnificent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span> +heroes had dwindled into puppets, their brilliant exploits +into the empty bombast of Drury Lane and Wardour +Street. If Scott cannot stand the test, what hope for the +other old loves? I risk no more lost illusions.</p> + +<p>From no less a distance I looked to Mrs. Rebecca +Harding Davis who, with Mrs. Wister, helped to supply +the country with fiction, in her case original, while her son, +Richard Harding Davis, was on the sensational brink +of his career. And again from a distance I looked to +Frank Stockton, with no idea that he was a Philadelphia +celebrity—very likely every other Philadelphian was as +ignorant, but that is no excuse for me. I had not found +him out as my fellow citizen when I saw much of him some +years later in London, nor did I find it out until recently +when, distrustful of my Philadelphia tendency to look +the other way if Philadelphians are distinguishing themselves, +I consulted the authorities to make sure how great +or how small was my knowledge of Philadelphia literature. +From all this it will be seen that in those remote days I was +very much on the literary outside in Philadelphia, but with +the luck there to run up against some of the giants.</p> + +<p>Into the vista of the poets chance gave me one brief +but more intimate glimpse. In a Germantown house—I +am puzzled at this day to say whose—I was introduced one +evening to Mrs. Florence Earle Coates and Dr. Francis +Howard Williams, both already laurel-crowned, at a small +gathering over which Walt Whitman presided. In his grey +coat and soft shirt I remember he struck me as more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> +dressed than the guests in their evening clothes, but I +remember he also struck me as less at home in the worshipping +parlour than in the bootblack's corner. The eloquence +of his presence stands out in my memory vividly, though I +have forgotten the name of the host or hostess to whom I +am indebted for enjoying it, and I think it must have been +then that I began to suspect there was more of a literary +life in Philadelphia than I had imagined. I had no opportunity +to get further than my suspicion, for it was very +shortly after that J. and I undertook to carry out the plans +we had been making on the old bench by the river in +Bartram's Garden. Walt Whitman I never saw again, +and of the group assembled about him nothing for many +years.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 319px;"> +<img src="images/gs065.jpg" width="319" height="400" alt="THE GERMANTOWN ACADEMY" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE GERMANTOWN ACADEMY</span> +</div> + +<p>I came into closer contact with writers to whom literature +and journalism were not merely a method of expression, +but a means of livelihood. Philadelphia, with its +magazines, as with so much else, had shown the way and +other towns had lost no time in following and getting +ahead. New York was in the magazine ascendant. <i>The +Century</i> and <i>Harper's</i> had replaced <i>Graham's</i> and <i>Godey's +Lady's Book</i> and <i>Peterson's</i>. But <i>Lippincott's</i> remained, +and though the Editor, after his cruel letter of refusal, +never deigned to notice me, it was some satisfaction to have +been in actual correspondence with an author as distinguished +as John Foster Kirk, the historian of Charles +the Bold. When <i>Our Continent</i> was labouring to revive the +old tradition of Philadelphia as a centre of publishers and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> +periodicals, I got as far as the editorial office—very far +indeed in my opinion—and there once or twice I saw Judge +Tourgee, who had abandoned his reconstructive mission +and judicial duties for an editorial post in Philadelphia, +and who at the moment was more talked about than any +American author, his <i>Fool's Errand</i> having given him the +sort of fame that <i>Looking Backward</i> brought to Bellamy: +ephemeral, but colossal while it lasted. Curiously, I recall +nothing of the man himself—not his appearance, his +manner, his talk. I think it must have been because, for +me, he was overshadowed by his Art Editor, Miss Emily +Sartain; my interest in him eclipsed by my admiration for +her and my envy of a woman, so young and so handsome, +who had attained to such an influential and responsible +post. I thought if I ever should reach half way up so +stupendous a height, I could die content. Louise Stockton, +Frank Stockton's sister, and Helen Campbell were on the +staff, in my eyes amazing women with regular weekly tasks +and regular weekly salaries. I might argue for my comfort +that there was greater liberty in being a free lance, +but how wonderful to do work that an editor wanted every +week, was willing to pay for every week!—wonderful to +me, anyway, who had just had my first taste of earning +an income, but not of earning it regularly and without +fail. My Uncle wrote more than once for Tourgee; J. +and I contributed those articles which were further excuses +for our walks together: Judge Tourgee, to his own loss, +thinking it a recommendation for a contributor to be a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> +Philadelphian as he would not have thought had he known +his Philadelphia better. <i>Our Continent</i> was too Philadelphian +to be approved in Philadelphia or to be in demand +out of it. One symbol of literary respectability the town +had in <i>Lippincott's</i>, and one was as much as it could then +support. <i>Our Continent</i> came to an end either just before +or just after J. and I set out on our travels. There were +other women in journalism who excited my envy. Mrs. +Lucy Hooper's letters to the <i>Evening Telegraph</i> struck +me as the last and finest word in foreign correspondence. +I never, even upon closer acquaintance, lost my awe of +Mrs. Sarah Hallowell who was intimately associated with +the <i>Ledger</i>, or of Miss Julia Ewing, though her association +with the same paper had nothing to do with its literary +side.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>Now and then I was stirred to the depths by my +glimpse of writers from other parts of the world. It was +only when a prophet was a home product that Philadelphia +kept its eyes tight shut; when the prophet came from +another town it opened them wide, and its arms wider than +its eyes, and showed him what a strenuous business it was +to be the victim of Philadelphia hospitality. It was rather +pleased if the prophet happened to be a lord, or had a +handle of some kind to his name, but an author would +answer for want of something better, especially if he came +from abroad. No Englishman on a lecture tour was +allowed to pass by Philadelphia.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span></p> + +<p>Immediately on his arrival, the distinguished visitor +was appropriated by George W. Childs, who had undertaken +to play in Philadelphia the part of the Lord Mayor +in the City of London and do the town's official entertaining, +and who was known far and wide for it—"he has +entertained all the English who come over here," Matthew +Arnold wrote home of him, and visitors of every other +nationality could have written the same of their own people +passing through Philadelphia. You would meet him in the +late afternoon, fresh from the <i>Ledger</i> office, strolling up +Chestnut Street of which he was another of the conspicuous +figures—not because of any personal beauty, but because +he did not believe in the Philadelphia practice of +hiding one's light under a bushel, and had managed to +make himself known by sight to every other man and +woman in the street; just as old Richard Vaux was; or +old "Aunt Ad" Thompson, everybody's aunt, in her brilliant +finery, growing ever more brilliant with years; or +that distinguished lawyer, Ben Brewster, "Burnt-faced +Brewster," whose genius for the law made every one forget +the terrible marks a fire in his childhood had left upon his +face. Philadelphia would not have been Philadelphia +without these familiar figures. Childs seldom appeared on +Chestnut Street without Tony Drexel, straight from +some big operation on the Stock Exchange, the two representing +all that was most successful in the newspaper +and banking world of Philadelphia: their friendship +now commemorated in that new combination of names<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> +as familiar to the new and changing generation as +Cadwallader-Biddle was to the old and changeless. Between +them it was the exception when there was not an +emperor, or a prince, or an author, or an actor, or some +other variety of a distinguished visitor being put through +his paces and shown life in Philadelphia, on the way to the +house of one or the other and to the feast prepared in his +honour. At the feast, if there was speaking to be done, it +was invariably Wayne MacVeagh who did it. As I +was not greatly in demand at public functions, I heard +him but once—a memorable occasion which did not, however, +impress me with the brilliance of his oratory.</p> + +<p>Matthew Arnold, the latest distinguished visitor, was +to lecture, and I had been looking forward to the evening +with an ardour for which alas! I have lost the faculty. +Literary celebrities were still novelties—more than that, +divinities—in my eyes. Among them, Matthew Arnold +held particularly high rank, one of the chief heroes of my +worship, and many of my contemporaries worshipped with +me. Youth was then, as always, acutely conscious of the +burden of life, and we made our luxury of his pessimism. +I could spout whole passages of his poems, whole poems +when they were short, though now I could not probably +get further than their titles. There had been a dinner +first—there always was a dinner first in Philadelphia—and +a Philadelphia dinner being no light matter, he arrived late. +The delay would have done no harm had not Wayne MacVeagh, +who presided, introduced him in a speech to which,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> +once it was started, there seemed no end. It went on and +on, the audience growing restless, with Matthew Arnold +himself an object of pity, so obvious was his embarrassment. +Few lecturers could have saved the situation, and +Matthew Arnold would have been a dull one under the +most favourable circumstances. I went away disillusioned, +reconciled to meeting my heroes in their books. And I +could understand when, years later, I read the letters he +wrote home, why the tulip trees seemed to have as much to +do as the people in making Philadelphia the most attractive +city he had seen in America.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs066.jpg" width="400" height="309" alt="THE STATE HOUSE FROM INDEPENDENCE SQUARE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE STATE HOUSE FROM INDEPENDENCE SQUARE</span> +</div> + +<p>Another distinguished visitor who lectured about this +period came off more gaily:—Oscar Wilde, to whose +lecture I had looked forward with no particular excitement, +for I was young enough to feel only impatience with his +pose. After listening to him, I had to admit that he was +amusing. His affected dress, his deliberate posturings, his +flamboyant phrases and slow lingering over them as if loth +to let them go, made him an exhilarating contrast to +Matthew Arnold, shocked as I was by a writer to whom +literature was not always in dead earnest, nor to teach its +goal, even though it was part of his pose to ape the teacher, +the voice in the wilderness. And he was so refreshingly enthusiastic +when off the platform, as I saw him afterwards in +my Uncle's rooms. He let himself go without reserve as he +recalled the impressions of his visit to Walt Whitman in +Camden and his meeting with the cowboy in the West. +To him, the cowboy was the most picturesque product of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> +America from whom he borrowed hat and cloak and appeared +in them, an amazing spectacle. And I find in some +prim, priggish, distressingly useless little notes I made at +the time, that it was a perfect, a supreme moment when he +talked to Walt Whitman who had been to him the master, +at whose feet he had sat since he was a young lad, and who +was as pure and earnest and noble and grand as he had +hoped. That to Walt Whitman, Oscar Wilde seemed "a +great big splendid boy" is now matter of history.</p> + +<p>I know that Philadelphia entertained Wilde, and so I +fancy him staying with George W. Childs, dining with +Tony Drexel, and being talked to after dinner by Wayne +MacVeagh, though I cannot be sure, as Philadelphia, with +singular lack of appreciation, included me in none of the +entertaining. I saw him only in Horticultural Hall, where +he lectured, and at my Uncle's. This was seeing him often +enough to be confirmed in my conviction that literature +might be a stimulating and emotional adventure.</p> + +<p>Many interesting people of many varieties were to be +met in my Uncle's rooms. I remember the George Lathrops +who, like Lowell and Poe of old, had come to Philadelphia +for work: Lathrop rather embittered and disappointed, +I thought; Mrs. Lathrop—Rose Hawthorne—a +marvellous woman in my estimation, not because of her +beautiful gold-red hair, nor her work, which I do not believe +was of special importance, but as the daughter of +Nathaniel Hawthorne and therefore a link between me in +my insignificance and the great of Brook Farm and Concord.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> +I remember editors from New York, impressive +creatures; and Members of Parliament, hangers-on of the +literary world of London; and actresses, its lions, when in +England:—Janauschek, heavily tragic off as on the stage, +for whom my Uncle's admiration was less limited than +mine; and Miss Genevieve Ward, playing in <i>Forget-Me-Not</i>, +her one big success, for she failed in the popularity to +repeat it that comes so easily to many less accomplished. +How timidly I sat and listened, marvelling to find myself +there, feeling like the humble who shall be exalted in the +Bible, looking upon my Uncle's rooms as the literary +threshold from which I was graciously permitted to watch +the glorious company within.</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>I had gone no further than this first, tremulous ardent +stage in my career when my Uncle deserted his memorable +rooms never to return, and J. and I started on the journey +that we thought might last a year—as long as the money +held out, we had said, to the discomfort of the family who +no doubt saw me promptly on their hands again—and that +did not bring me back to Philadelphia for over a quarter +of a century. Of literary events during my absence, somebody +else must make the record.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 278px;"> +<img src="images/gs067.jpg" width="278" height="400" alt=""THE LITTLE STREET OF CLUBS," CAMAC STREET ABOVE SPRUCE STREET" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"THE LITTLE STREET OF CLUBS," CAMAC STREET ABOVE SPRUCE STREET</span> +</div> + +<p>When I did go back after all those years, I was conscious +that there must have been events for a record to be +made of, or I could not have accounted for the change. +Literature was now in the air. Local prophets were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> +acknowledged, if not by all Philadelphia, by little groups +of satellites revolving round them. Literary lights had +come from under the bushel and were shining in high +places. Societies had been industriously multiplying for +the encouragement of literature. All such encouragement +in my time had devolved upon the Penn Club that patronized +literature, among its other interests, and wrote about +books in its monthly journal and invited their authors to +its meetings. During my absence, not only had the Penn +Club continued to flourish—to such good purpose that J. +and I were honoured by one of these invitations and felt +that never again could Fame and Fate bring us such a +triumphant moment, except when the Academy of Fine +Arts paid us the same honour and so upset our old belief +that no Philadelphian could ever be a prophet in Philadelphia!—but +Philadelphia had broken out into a multitude +of Clubs and Societies, beginning with the Franklin Inn, +for Franklin is not to be got away from even in Clubland, +and his Inn, I am assured, is the most comprehensive +literary centre to which every author, every artist, every +editor, every publisher who thinks himself something belongs +to the number of one hundred—that there should be +the chance of one hundred with the right to think themselves +something in Philadelphia is the wonder!—and in +the house in Camac Street, which one Philadelphian I +know calls "The Little Street of Clubs," the members +meet for light lunch and much talk and, it may be, other +rites of which I could speak only from hearsay, my sex<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> +disqualifying me from getting my knowledge of them +at first hand. And there is a Business and Professional +Club and a Poor Richard, bringing one back to Franklin +again, in the same Little Street. And there are Browning +Societies, and Shakespeare Societies, and Drama-Reforming +Societies, and Pegasus Societies, and Societies for +members to read their own works to each other; and more +Societies than the parent Society discoursing in the woods +along the Schuylkill could have +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'dreamt' and 'dreamed' were used in this text. This was retained.">dreamed</ins> +of: with the +Contemporary Club to assemble their variously divided +ends and objects under one head, and to entertain literature +as George W. Childs had entertained it, and, going +further, to pay literature for being entertained, if literature +expresses itself in the form of readings and lectures by +those who practise it professionally. The change disconcerted +me more than ever when I, Philadelphia born, +was assured of a profitable welcome if I would speak to +the Club on anything. The invitation was tentative and +unofficial, but the Contemporary Club need be in no +fear. It may make the invitation official if it will, and +never a penny the poorer will it be for my presence: I +am that now rare creature, a shy woman subject to stage +fright. And I cannot help thinking that, despite the +amiability to the native, the stranger, simply because he is +a stranger, continues to have the preference, so many are +the Englishmen and Englishwomen invited to deliver +themselves before the Club who never could gather an +audience at home.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/gs068.jpg" width="301" height="400" alt="DOWN SANSOM STREET FROM EIGHTH STREET. +THE LOW HOUSES AT SEVENTH STREET HAVE SINCE BEEN TORN DOWN AND THE WESTERN END OF THE CURTIS BUILDING NOW OCCUPIES +THEIR PLACE" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption">DOWN SANSOM STREET FROM EIGHTH STREET<br /> +<span style="font-size: smaller;">THE LOW HOUSES AT SEVENTH STREET HAVE SINCE BEEN TORN DOWN AND THE WESTERN END OF THE CURTIS BUILDING NOW OCCUPIES +THEIR PLACE</span></span> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span></p> + +<p>And Philadelphia has recaptured the lead in the +periodical publication that pays, and I found the Curtis +Building the biggest sky-scraper in Philadelphia, towering +above the quiet of Independence Square, a brick +and marble and pseudo-classical monument to the <i>Ladies' +Home Journal</i> and the <i>Saturday Evening Post</i>, and if in +the race literature lags behind, what matter when merit is +vouched for in solid dollars and cents? What matter, +when the winds of heaven conspire with bricks and mortar +to make the passer-by respect it? I am told that on a +windy day no man can pass the building without a fight +for it, and no woman without the help of stalwart policemen. +In her own organ of fashion and feminine sentiment, +she has raised up a power against which, even with +the vote to back her, she could not prevail.</p> + +<p>And Philadelphia is not content to have produced the +first daily newspaper but is bent on making it as big as it +can be made anywhere. If I preserved my morning +paper for two or three days in my hotel bedroom, I fairly +waded in newspapers. On Sundays if I carried upstairs +only the <i>Ledger</i> and the <i>North American</i>, I was +deep in a flood of Comic Supplements, and Photograph +Supplements, and Sport Supplements, and every possible +sort of Supplement that any other American newspaper +in any other American town can boast of—all the sad +stuff that nobody has time to look at but is what the newspaper +editor is under the delusion that the public wants—in +Philadelphia, one genuine Philadelphia touch added<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> +in the letters and gossip of "Peggy Shippen" and "Sally +Wister," names with the double recommendation to Philadelphia +of venerable age and unquestionable Philadelphia +respectability.</p> + +<p>And I found that the Philadelphia writer has increased +in numbers and in popularity, whether for better or worse +I will not say. I have not the courage for the +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'role' and 'rôle' were used in this text. This was retained.">rôle</ins> of +critic on my own hearth, knowing the penalty for too much +honesty at home. Nor is there any reason why I should +hesitate and bungle and make myself unpleasant enemies +in doing indifferently what Philadelphia, in its new +incarnation, does with so much grace. I have now but +to name the Philadelphian's book in Philadelphia to be +informed that it is monumental—but to mention the +Philadelphia writer of verse to hear that he is a marvel—but +to enquire for the Philadelphia writer of prose to be +assured that he is a genius. There is not the weeest, most +modest little Philadelphia goose that does not sail along +valiantly in the Philadelphia procession of swans. The +new pose is prettier than the old if scarcely more successful +in preserving a sense of proportion, and it saves me +from committing myself. I can state the facts that strike +me, without prejudice, as the lawyers say.</p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>One is that the last quarter of a century has interested +the Philadelphia writer in Philadelphia as he had not been +since the days of John Watson. Most Philadelphians<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span> +owned a copy of Watson's <i>Annals</i>. I have one on my +desk before me that belonged to J.'s Father, one must +have been in my Grandfather's highly correct Philadelphia +house, though I cannot recall it there, for a +Philadelphian's duty was to buy Watson just as it was to +take in <i>Lippincott's</i>, and Philadelphians never shirked +their obligations. They probably would not have been +able to say what was in Watson, or, if they could, would +have shrugged their shoulders and dismissed him for a +crank. But they would have owned the <i>Annals</i>, all the +same. Then the Centennial shook them up and insisted on +the value of Philadelphia's history, and Philadelphians +were no longer in fashion if they did not feel, or affect, +an interest in Philadelphia and its past. After the Centennial +the few who began to write about it could rely +upon the many to read about it.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 304px;"> +<img src="images/gs069.jpg" width="304" height="400" alt="THE DOUBLE STAIRWAY IN THE PENNSYLVANIA HOSPITAL" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE DOUBLE STAIRWAY IN THE PENNSYLVANIA HOSPITAL</span> +</div> + +<p>Once, the Philadelphian who was not ashamed to write +stories made them out of the fashionable life of Philadelphia. +Dr. Weir Mitchell inaugurated the new era, or the +revolt, or the secession, or whatever name may be given +it with the first historical novel of Philadelphia. It is +fortunate, when I come to <i>Hugh Wynne</i>, that I have renounced +criticism and all its pretences. As a Friend by +marriage, if such a thing is possible, I cannot underestimate +the danger. Only a Friend born a Friend is qualified +to write the true Quaker novel, and I am told by this +kind of Friend that <i>Hugh Wynne</i> is not free from misrepresentations, +misconceptions and misunderstandings.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> +This may be true—I breathe more freely for not being +able to affirm or to deny it—but, as Henley used to say, +there it is—the first romantic gold out of the mine Philadelphia +history is for all who work it. Since these lines +were written the news has reached me that never again +will Dr. Mitchell work this or any other mine. I cannot +imagine Philadelphia without him. When I last saw him, +it seemed to me that no Philadelphian was more alive, +more in love with life, better equipped to enjoy life in the +way Philadelphia has fashioned it—the Philadelphia life +in which his passing away must leave no less a gap than +the disappearance of the State House or the Pennsylvania +Hospital would leave in the Philadelphia streets. If Dr. +Mitchell's digging brought up the romance of Philadelphia, +Mr. Sydney George Fisher's has unearthed the facts, +for Philadelphia was the root of the great growth of Pennsylvania +which is the avowed subject of his history. And +the men who helped to make this history have now their +biographers at home, though hitherto the task of their +biography had been left chiefly to anybody anywhere else +who would accept the responsibility, and my Brother, Edward +Robins, Secretary of the University of Pennsylvania, +has written the life of Benjamin Franklin, without whom +the University would not have been, at least would not +have been what it is. And in so many different directions +has the interest spread that my friend since <i>Our Convent +Days</i>, Miss Agnes Repplier, has taken time from her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> +studies in literature and from building a monument to her +beloved Agrippina to write its story. When she sent me +her book, I opened it with grave apprehensions. In the +volumes she had published, humour was the chief charm, +and how would humour help her to see Philadelphia? I +need not have been uneasy. There is no true humour +without tenderness. If she had her smile for the town +we all love, as we all have, it was a tender smile, and I +think no reader can close her book without wanting to +know still more of Philadelphia than it was her special +business in that place to tell them. And that no vein of +the Philadelphia mine might be left unworked. Miss Anne +Hollingsworth Wharton has busied herself to gather up +old traditions and old reminiscences, dipping into old +letters and diaries, opening wide Colonial doorways, resurrecting +Colonial Dames, reshaping the old social and domestic +life disdained by historians. The numerous editions +into which her books have gone explain that she has not +worked for her own edification alone, that Philadelphia, +once it was willing to hear any talk about itself, could not +hear too much. And after Miss Wharton have come Mr. +Mather Lippincott and Mr. Eberlein to collect the old +Colonial houses and their memories, followed by Mr. +Herbert C. Wise and Mr. Beidleman to study their architecture: +just in time if Philadelphia perseveres in its crime +of moving out of the houses for the benefit of the Russian +Jew and of mixing their memories with squalor. Of all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> +the ways in which Philadelphia has changed, none is to me +more remarkable than in this rekindling of interest out +of which has sprung the new group of writers in its praise.</p> + +<p>Nor were the Philadelphia poets idle during my absence. +Dr. Mitchell had not before sung so freely in public, +nor had he ranked, as I am told he did at the end, his +verse higher than his medicine. Mrs. Coates' voice had +not carried so far. Dr. Francis Howard Williams had not +rhymed for Pageants in praise of Philadelphia. Mr. +Harrison Morris had not joined the Philadelphia choir. +Mr. Harvey M. Watts had not been heard in the land. I +have it on good authority that yearly the Philadelphia +poets meet and read their verses to each other, a custom of +which I cannot speak from personal knowledge as I have +no passport into the magic circle, and perhaps it is just as +well for my peace of mind that I have not. Rumour declares +that, on certain summer evenings, a suburban porch +here or there is made as sweet with their singing as with the +perfume of the roses and syringa in the garden, and I am +content with the rumour for there is always the chance the +music might not be so sweet if I heard it. I like to remember +that the poets on their porch, whether their voices +be sweet or harsh, descend in a direct line from the young +men who wandered, discoursing of literature, along the +Schuylkill. And Philadelphia's love of poetry is to be +assured not only by its own singers but by its care, now +as in the past, for the song of others. Horace Howard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span> +Furness, Jr., has taken over his father's task and, in so +doing, will see that Philadelphia continues to be famous +for the most complete edition of Shakespeare.</p> + +<p>There had been equal activity during my absence +among the story-tellers. Since Brockden Brown, not one +had written so ambitious a tale as <i>Hugh Wynne</i>, not one +had ever laughed so good-humouredly at Philadelphia as +Thomas A. Janvier in his short stories of the Hutchinson +Ports and Rittenhouse Smiths—what gaiety has gone out +with his death! Not one had ever seen character with such +truth as Owen Wister,—if only he could understand that +as good material awaits him in Philadelphia as in Virginia +and Wyoming. And John Luther Long is another +of the story-tellers Philadelphia can claim though, like +Mr. Wister, he shows a greater fancy for far-away lands +or to wander among strange people at home.</p> + +<p>There is no branch of literature that Philadelphia has +not taken under its active protection. Who has contributed +more learnedly to the records of the Inquisition +than Henry Charles Lea, or to the chronicles of the law in +the United States than Mr. Hampton L. Carson and Mr. +Charles Burr, duly conscious as Philadelphia lawyers +should be of the Philadelphian's legal responsibility? Who +can compete in knowledge of the evolution of the playing +card with Mrs. John King Van Rensselaer or rival her +collection? Who ever thought of writing the history of +autobiography before Mrs. Anna Robeson Burr? The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span> +time had but to come for an admirer to play the Boswell +to Walt Whitman, and Mr. Traubel appeared. When +Columbia wanted a Professor of Journalism, Philadelphia +sent it Dr. Talcott Williams. When England seemed +a comfortable shelter for research there was no need to be +in a hurry about, Mr. Logan Pearsall Smith showed what +could be done with an exhaustive study of Dr. Donne, +though why he was not showing instead what could be +done with the Loganian Library, where the chance to +show it was his for the claiming, he alone can say. When +such recondite subjects as Egyptian and Assyrian called +for interpreters, Philadelphia was again on the spot with +Mrs. Cornelius Stevenson and Dr. Morris Jastrow. And +for authorities on the drama and history, it gives us Mr. +Felix Schelling and Dr. McMaster,—but perhaps for me +to attempt to complete the list would only be to make it +incomplete. Here, too, I tread on dangerous ground. It +may be cowardly, but it is safe to give the tribute of my +recognition to all that is being accomplished by the University +of Pennsylvania and its scholars—by Bryn Mawr +College and its students—by the Historical Society of +Pennsylvania—by other Colleges and learned bodies—by +innumerable individuals—and not invite exposure by +venturing into detail and upon comment. It is in these +emergencies that the sense of my limitations comes to +my help.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 309px;"> +<img src="images/gs070.jpg" width="309" height="400" alt="CARPENTER'S HALL, BUILT 1771" title="" /> +<span class="caption">CARPENTER'S HALL, BUILT 1771</span> +</div> + +<p>At least I am not afraid to say that, on my return, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span> +fancied I found this side of Philadelphia life less a side +apart, less isolated, more identified with the social side, +and the social side, for its part, accepting the identification. +The University and Bryn Mawr could not have played +the same social part in the Philadelphia I remember. Perhaps +I shall express what I mean more exactly if I say +that, returning with fresh eyes, I saw Philadelphia ready +and pleased, as I had not remembered it, to acknowledge +openly talents and activities it once made believe to ignore +or despise—to go further really and, having for the first +time squarely faced its accomplishments, for the first time +to blow its own trumpet. The new spirit is one I approve. +I would not call all the work that comes out of Philadelphia +monumental, as some Philadelphians do, or Philadelphia +itself a modern Athens, or the hub of the literary +universe, or any other absurd name. But I do think that +in literature and learning it is now contributing, as it +always has contributed, its fair share to the country, and +that if Philadelphia does not say so, the rest of the country +will not, for the rest of the country is still under the delusion +that Philadelphia knows how to do nothing but sleep.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV: PHILADELPHIA AND ART</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>Ignorance of art and all relating to it could not +have been greater than mine when I paid that first +eventful visit to J.'s studio on Chestnut Street.</p> + +<p>I lay the blame only partly on my natural capacity +for ignorance. It was a good deal the fault of the sort of +education I received and the influences among which I +lived—the fault of the place and the period in which I +grew up. Nominally, art was not neglected at the Convent. +A drawing-class was conducted by an old bear of a +German, who also gave music lessons, and who prospered +so on his monopoly of the arts with us that he was +able to live in a delightful cottage down near the river. +Drawing was an "extra" of which I was never thought +worthy, but I used to see the class at the tables set out for +the purpose in the long low hall leading to the Chapel, +the master grumbling and growling and scolding, the +pupils laboriously copying with crayon or chalk little +cubes and geometrical figures or, at a more advanced +stage, the old-fashioned copy-book landscape and building, +rubbing in and rubbing out, wrestling with the composition +as if it were a problem in algebra. The Convent +could take neither credit, nor discredit, for the system; +it was the one then in vogue in every school, fashionable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> +or otherwise, and not so far removed, after all, from +systems followed to this day in certain Academies of Art.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs071.jpg" width="400" height="306" alt="INDEPENDENCE HALL—LENGTHWISE VIEW" title="" /> +<span class="caption">INDEPENDENCE HALL—LENGTHWISE VIEW</span> +</div> + +<p>Another class was devoted to an art then considered +very beautiful, called Grecian Painting. It was not my +privilege to study this either, but I gathered from friends +who did that it was of the simplest: on the back of an +engraving, preferably of a religious subject and prepared +by an ingenious process that made it transparent, +the artist dabbed his colours according to written instructions. +The result, glazed and framed, was supposed to +resemble, beyond the detection of any save an expert, a +real oil painting and was held in high esteem.</p> + +<p>A third class was in the elegant art of making wax +flowers and, goodness knows why, my Father squandered +an appreciable sum of his declining fortunes on having me +taught it. I am the more puzzled by his desire to bestow +upon me this accomplishment because none of the other +girls' fathers shared his ambition for their daughters and +I was the only member of the class. Alone, in a room at +the top of the house—chosen no doubt for the light, as if +the deeds there done ought not to have been shrouded in +darkness—I worked many hours under the tuition of +Mother Alicia, cutting up little sheets of wax into leaves +and petals, colouring them, sticking them together, and +producing in the end two horrible masterpieces—one a +water-lily placed on a mirror under a glass shade, the +other a basket of carnations and roses and camelias—both +of which masterpieces my poor family, to avoid hurting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span> +my feelings, had to place in the parlour and keep there I +blush to remember how long. It must be admitted that +this was scarcely an achievement to encourage an interest +in art. For the appreciation of art, as for its practice, it +is important to have nothing to unlearn from the beginning; +mine was the sort of training to reduce me to the +necessity of unlearning everything; and most of my contemporaries, +on leaving school, were in the same plight.</p> + +<p>My eyes were no better trained than my hands. Works +of art at the Convent consisted of the usual holy statues +designed for our spiritual, not æsthetic edification; the +Stations of the Cross whose merit was no less spiritual; +two copies of Murillo and Rafael which my Father, in the +fervour of conversion, presented to the Mother Superior; +and a picture of St. Elizabeth of Hungary that adorned +the Convent parlour, where we all felt it belonged, such +a marvel to us was its combination of +brilliantly-<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'colored' and 'coloured' were used in this text. This was retained.">coloured</ins> +needle-and-brush work.</p> + +<p>Illustrated books there must have been in the ill-assorted +hodge-podge of a collection in the Library from +which we obtained our reading for Thursday afternoons +and Sundays. But though I doubt if there was a book +I had not sampled, even if I had not been able to read it +straight through, I can recall no illustrations except the +designs by Rossetti, Millais, and Holman Hunt, made +for Moxon's Tennyson and reproduced by the Harpers +for a cheap American edition of the Poems, a copy +of which was given to me one year as a prize. Little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span> +barbarian as I was, I disliked the drawings of the Pre-Raphaelites +because they mystified me—the Lady of +Shalott, entangled in her wide floating web, the finest +drawing Holman Hunt ever made; the company of weeping +queens in the Vale of Avalon, in Rossetti's harmoniously +crowded design—when I flattered myself I understood +everything that was to be understood, more especially +Tennyson's Poems, many of which I could recite +glibly from beginning to end—and did recite diligently to +myself at hours when I ought to have been busy with the +facts and figures in the class books before me. Most +people, young or old, dislike anything which shows them +how much less they understand than they think they do.</p> + +<p>Of the history of art I was left in ignorance as abject, +the next to nothing I knew gleaned from a <i>Lives of the +Artists</i> adapted to children, a favourite book in the +Library, one providing me with the theme for my sole +serious effort in drama—a three-act play, Michael Angelo +its hero, which, with a success many dramatists might +envy. I wrote, produced, acted in, and found an audience +of good-natured nuns for, all at the ripe age of eleven.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>When I left the Convent for the holidays and eventually +"for good," little in my new surroundings was calculated +to increase my knowledge of art or to teach me the +first important fact, as a step to knowledge, that I knew +absolutely nothing on the subject. In my Grandfather's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span> +house, art was represented by the family portraits, the +engraving after Gilbert Stuart's Washington, the illustrated +lamp shade, and the Rogers Group. My Father, +re-established in a house of his own, displayed an unaccountably +liberal taste, straying from the Philadelphia +standard to the extent of decorating his parlour walls +with engravings of Napoleon he had picked up in Paris—to +one, printed in colour, attaching a value which I doubt +if the facts would justify, though, as I have never come +across it in any collection, Museum, or Gallery, it may be +rarer and, therefore, more valuable, than I think. Other +fruits of his old journeys to Paris were two engravings, +perhaps after Guys, of two famous ladies of that town, +whose presence in our prim and proper and highly domestic +dining-room seems to me the most incongruous +accident in an otherwise correctly-appointed Philadelphia +household. When I think of Napoleon replacing Washington +on our walls, I suspect my Father of having broken +loose from the Philadelphia traces in his youth, though +by the time I knew him the prints were the only signs of a +momentary dash for freedom on the part of so scrupulous +a Philadelphian.</p> + +<p>It is curious that illustrations should have as small a +place in my memory of home life as of the Convent. The +men of the Golden Age of the Sixties had published their +best work long before I had got through school, and in my +childhood books gave me my chief amusement. But I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span> +remember nothing of their fine designs. The earlier +Cruikshank drawings for Dickens I knew well in the +American edition which my Father owned, and never so +long as I live can I see the Dickens world except as it +is shown in the much over-rated Cruikshank interpretations. +Other memories are of the highly-finished, sentimental +steel-engravings of Scott's heroines, including Meg +Merrilies, whom I still so absurdly associate with Crazy +Norah. Another series of portraits, steel-engravings, as +highly-finished and but slightly less insipid, illustrated my +Father's edition of Thiers' <i>French Revolution</i> through +which, one conscientious winter, I considered it my duty +to wade. And I recall also the large volumes of photographs +after Rafael and other masters that, in the +Eighteen-Seventies, came into fashion for Christmas +presents and parlour-table books, and that I think must +have heralded the new departure the Centennial is supposed +to have inaugurated.</p> + +<p>If I try to picture to myself the interior of the houses +where I used to visit, art in them too seems best represented +by family portraits no more remarkable than my +Grandfather's, by the engraving of Stuart's Washington, +or of Penn signing the Treaty with the Indians, or of the +American Army crossing the Delaware, all three part of +the traditional decoration of the Philadelphia hall and +dining-room, and by a Rogers Group and an illustrated +lamp shade. The library in which a friend first showed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span> +me a volume of Hogarth's engravings I remember as exceptional. +But I have an idea that had I possessed greater +powers of appreciation then, I should have a keener +memory now of other houses full of interesting pictures +and prints and illustrated books, which I did not see simply +because my eyes had not been trained to see them.</p> + +<p>Certainly, there were Philadelphia collections of these +things then, as there always have been—only they were +not heard of and talked about as they are now, or, if they +were, it was to dismiss their collecting as an amiable fad. +Mr. John S. Phillips had got together the engravings +which the Pennsylvania Academy is to-day happy to +possess. People who were interested did not have to be +told that Mr. Claghorn's collection was perhaps the finest +in the country; J. was one of the wise minority, and often +on Sundays took advantage of Mr. Claghorn's generosity +in letting anybody with the intelligence to +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realize</ins> the +privilege come to look at his prints and study them; but +I, who had not +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +to be interested, knew nothing of +the collection until I knew J. Gebbie and Barrie's store +flourished in Walnut Street as it hardly could had there +not been people in Philadelphia, as Gebbie once wrote to +Frederick Keppel, who collected "these smoky, poky +old prints." Gebbie and Barrie have gone, but Barrie remains, +a publisher of art books, and there are other dealers +no less important and perhaps more enterprising, who +prosper, as one of them has recently assured me they could +not, if they depended for their chief support upon Philadelphia.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span> +But Philadelphia gives, as it gave, solid foundations +of support, with the difference that to-day it takes +good care the world should know it.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 305px;"> +<img src="images/gs072.jpg" width="305" height="400" alt="GIRARD COLLEGE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">GIRARD COLLEGE</span> +</div> + +<p>A few Philadelphians collected pictures. One of the +show places, more select and exclusive than the Mint and +Girard College, for the rare visitor to the town with a soul +above dancing and dining, was Mr. Gibson's gallery in +Walnut Street, open on stated days to anybody properly +introduced, or it may be that only a visiting card with a +proper address was necessary for admission. The less I +say about the Gallery the better, for I never went to Mr. +Gibson's myself, though I knew the house as I passed it for +one apart in Philadelphia—one where so un-Philadelphia-like +a possession as a picture gallery was allowed to disturb +the Philadelphian's first-story arrangement of front +and back parlours. The collection can now be visited, +without any preliminary formalities, at the Academy of +Fine Arts. Mrs. Bloomfield Moore was still living in +Philadelphia and she must have begun collecting though, +well as I knew the inside of her house in my young days, +I hesitate to assert it as a fact—which shows my unpardonable +blindness to most things in life worth while. I never, +as far as I remember, went anywhere for the express purpose +of looking at paintings. I had not even the curiosity +which is the next best thing to knowledge and understanding. +I have said how meagre are my impressions of the +old Academy on Chestnut Street. It is a question to +me whether I had ever seen more than the outside of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> +new Academy at Broad and Cherry Streets before I met +J. To go to the exhibitions there had not as yet come +within the list of things Philadelphians who were not +artists made a point of doing. Altogether, judging from +my own recollections, Philadelphians did not bother about +art, and did not stop to ask whether there was any to +bother about in Philadelphia, or not.</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>Their indifference was their loss. The art, with a +highly respectable pedigree, was there for Philadelphia to +enjoy and be proud of, if Philadelphia had not been as +reticent about it as about all its other accomplishments +and possessions. I have a decided suspicion that I have +come to a subject about which I might do well to observe +the same reticence, not only as a Philadelphian, but as the +wife of an artist. For if, as the wife of a Friend, I have +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +that only Friends are qualified to write of themselves, +as the wife of an artist I have reason to believe +it more discreet to leave all talk of art to artists, though +discretion in this regard has not been one of the virtues +of my working life. But just now, I am talking not so +much of art as of my attitude towards art which must have +been the attitude of the outsider in Philadelphia, or else it +would not have been mine. As for the genealogy of Philadelphia +art, it is, like the genealogy of Philadelphia +families, in the records of the town for all who will to read.</p> + +<p>In the very beginning of things Philadelphia may have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span> +had no more pressing need for the artist's studio than for +the writer's study. But it was surprising how soon its +needs expanded in this direction. English and other +European critics deplore the absence of an original—or +aboriginal—school of art in America, as if they thought +the American artist should unconsciously have lost, on his +way across the Atlantic, that inheritance from centuries +of civilization and tradition which the modern artist who +calls himself Post-Impressionist is deliberately endeavoring +to get rid of, and on his arrival have started all over +again like a child with a clean slate. Only an American +art based on the hieroglyphics and war paint of the +Indians would satisfy the critic with this preconceived +idea. But the first American artists were not savages, +they were not primitives. They did not paint pictures +like Indians any more than the first American architects +built wigwams like Indians, or the first American Colonials +dressed themselves in beads and feathers like +Indians. Colonials had come from countries where art +was highly developed, and they could no more forget +the masters at home than they could forget the literature +upon which they and their fathers had been nourished. +If years passed before a Philadelphian began to paint +pictures, it was because Philadelphians had not time to +paint as they had not time to write. The wonder really +is that they began so soon—that so soon the artist got +to work, and so soon there was a public to care enough +for his work to enable him to do it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span></p> + +<p>In a thousand ways the interest of Philadelphians +in art expressed itself. It is written large in the beauty +of their houses and in their readiness to introduce ornament +where ornament belonged. The vine and cluster +of grapes carved on William Penn's front door; the +panelling and woodwork in Colonial houses; the decoration +of a public building like the State House; the +furniture, the silver, the china, we pay small fortunes +for when we can find them and have not inherited them; +the single finely-proportioned mirror or decorative silhouette +on a white wall; the Colonial rooms that have +come down to us untouched, perfect in their simplicity, not +an ornament too many;—all show which way the wind of +art blew.</p> + +<p>There was hardly one of the great men from any +American town, makers of first the Revolution and then +the Union, who did not appreciate the meaning and importance +of art and did not leave a written record, if only +in a letter, of his appreciation. Few things have struck +me more in reading the Correspondence and Memoirs and +Diaries of the day. But these men were not only +patriots, they were men of intelligence, and they knew +the folly of expecting to find in Philadelphia or New +York or Boston the same beautiful things that in Paris +or London or Italy filled them with delight and admiration, +or of seeing in this fact a reason to lower their +standard. The critics who are shocked because we have +no aboriginal school might do worse than read some of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span> +these old documents. I recommend in particular a +passage in a letter John Adams wrote to his wife from +Paris. It impressed me so when I came upon it, it +seemed to me such an admirable explanation of a situation +perplexing to critics, that I copied it in my notebook, +and I cannot resist quoting it now.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 307px;"> +<img src="images/gs073.jpg" width="307" height="400" alt="UPSALA, GERMANTOWN" title="" /> +<span class="caption">UPSALA, GERMANTOWN</span> +</div> + +<p>"It is not indeed the fine arts which our country +requires," he writes, "the useful, the mechanic arts are +those which we have occasion for in a young country as +yet simple and not far advanced in luxury, although +much too far for her age and character.... The science +of government it is my duty to study, more than all other +sciences; the arts of legislation and administration and +negotiation ought to take place of, indeed to exclude, +in a manner, all other arts. I must study politics and +war, that my sons may have liberty to study mathematics +and philosophy. My sons ought to study mathematics +and philosophy, geography, natural history and naval +architecture, navigation, commerce and agriculture, in +order to give their children a right to study painting, +poetry, music, architecture, statuary, tapestry, and +porcelain."</p> + +<p>John Adams and his contemporaries may not have had +American grandfathers with the leisure to earn for them +the right to study art, but they did not ignore it. All the +time they felt its appeal and responded to the appeal as +well as busy men, absorbed in the development of a new +country, could. They got themselves painted whenever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span> +they happened to combine the leisure to sit and a painter +to sit to. When a statesman like Jefferson, who confessed +himself "an enthusiast on the subject of the arts," +was sent abroad, he devoted his scant leisure to securing the +best possible sculptor for the statue of Washington, or the +best possible models for public buildings at home. Much +that we now prize in architecture and design we owe to +the men who supposed themselves too occupied with +politics and war to encourage art and artists. They were +not too busy to provide the beauty without which liberty +would have been a poor affair—not too busy to welcome +the first Americans who saw to it that all the beauty +should not be imported from Europe. "After the first +cares for the necessaries of life are over, we shall come to +think of the embellishments," Franklin wrote to his London +landlady's daughter. "Already some of our young +geniuses begin to lisp attempts at painting, poetry and +music. We have a young painter now studying at Rome."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs074.jpg" width="400" height="318" alt="THE HALL AT CLIVEDEN, THE CHEW HOUSE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE HALL AT CLIVEDEN, THE CHEW HOUSE</span> +</div> + +<p>In this care for the embellishments of life, of so much +more real importance than the necessaries, Philadelphia +was the first town to take the lead, though Philadelphians +have since gone out of their way to forget it. The old +Quaker lady in her beautiful dress, preserving her beautiful +repose, in her beautiful old and historic rooms, shows +the Friends' instinctive love of beauty even if they never +intentionally, or deliberately, undertook to create it. For +the most beautiful of what we now call Colonial furniture +produced in the Colonies, Philadelphia is given the credit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span> +by authorities on the subject. Franklin's letters could +also be quoted to show Philadelphians' keenness to have +their portraits done in "conversation" or "family" +pieces, or alone in miniatures, whichever were most in +vogue. Even Friends, before Franklin, when they visited +England sought out a fashionable portrait-painter like +Kneller because he was supposed the best. Artists from +England came to Philadelphia for commissions, artists +from other Colonies drifted there, Peale, Stuart, Copley. +Philadelphia, in return, spared its artists to England, +and the Royal Academy was forced to rely upon +Philadelphia for its second President—Benjamin West. +The artist's studio in Philadelphia had become a place of +such distinction by the Revolution that members of the +first Congress felt honoured themselves when allowed +to honour it with their presence—in the intervals between +legislating and dining. The Philadelphian to-day, goaded +by the moss-grown jest over Philadelphia slowness and +want of enterprise into giving the list of Philadelphia +"firsts," or the things Philadelphia has been the first to +do in the country, can include among them the picture +exhibition which Philadelphia was the first to hold, and +the Pennsylvania Academy which was the first Academy +of the Fine Arts instituted in America. Philadelphia was +the richest American town and long the Capital; the +marvel would be if it had not taken the lead in art as in +politics.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV: PHILADELPHIA AND ART—CONTINUED</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>By the time I grew up years had passed since +Philadelphia had ceased to be the Capital, and +during these years its atmosphere had not been +especially congenial to art. But the general conditions +had not been more stimulating anywhere in America. +The Hudson River School is about all that came of a +period which, for that matter, owed its chief good to +revolt in countries where more was to be expected of +it: in France, to first the Romanticists and then the +Impressionists who had revolted against the Academic; +in England to the Pre-Raphaelites who, with noisy advertisement, +broke away from Victorian convention. Art in +America had not got to the point of development when +there was anything to revolt against or to break away +from. What it needed was a revival of the old interest, +a reaction from the prevailing indifference to all there +was of art in the country.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 307px;"> +<img src="images/gs075.jpg" width="307" height="400" alt="THE OLD WATER-WORKS, FAIRMOUNT PARK" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE OLD +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: 'Waterworks,' 'Water Works,' and 'Water-Works' were used in this text. This was retained.">WATER-WORKS</ins>, +FAIRMOUNT PARK</span> +</div> + +<p>Some say this came in Philadelphia with the Centennial. +The Centennial's stirring up, however, would not +have done much good had not artists already begun to stir +themselves up. How a number of Americans who had +been studying in Paris and Munich returned to America +full of youth and enthusiasm in the early Eighteen-Seventies,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span> +there to lead a new movement in American art, has +long since passed into history—also the fact that one of +the most remarkable outcomes of this new movement was +the new school of illustration that quickly made American +illustrated books and magazines famous throughout the +world. But what concerns me as a Philadelphian is that, +once more at this critical moment, Philadelphia took the +lead. The publishers of the illustrated books and magazines +may have been chiefly in New York, the illustrations +were chiefly from Philadelphia, and there is no reason +why Philadelphia should not admit it with decent pride. +Abbey and Frost were actually, Howard Pyle and Smedley +virtually, Philadelphians. Blum and Brennan passed +through the Academy Schools. J., when I met him, was +at the threshold of his career. And the illustrators were +but a younger offshoot of the new Philadelphia group. +Miss Mary Cassatt had already started to work in Paris, +where Jules Stewart and Ridgway Knight represented +the older Philadelphia school; Mrs. Anna Lea Merritt was +already in London; J. McLure Hamilton had finished his +studies at Antwerp; Alexander and Birge Harrison had +been heard of in Paris where Sargent—who belongs to +Philadelphia if to any American town—had carried off his +first honours. At home Richards was painting his marines; +Poore had begun his study of animals; Dana, I think, was +beginning his water-colours; William Sartain had long +been known as an engraver; Miss Emily Sartain was an +art editor and soon to be the head of an art school; the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span> +Moran family, with the second generation, had become +almost a Philadelphia institution; from Stephen Ferris +J. could learn the technic of etching as from the Claghorn +collection he could trace its development through the +ages; and of the younger men and women, his contemporaries, +he did not leave me long in ignorance.</p> + +<p>My own work had led me to the discovery of so many +worlds of work in Philadelphia, I could not have believed +there was room for another. But there was, and the artists' +world was so industrious, so full of energy, so sufficient +unto itself, so absorbed in itself, that, with the first glimpse +into it, the difficulty was to believe space and reason could +be left for any outside of it. This new experience was as +extraordinary a revelation as my initiation into the newspaper +world. I had been living, without suspecting it, +next door to people who thought of nothing, talked of +nothing, occupied themselves with nothing, but art: people +for whom a whole army of men and women were busily +employed, managing schools, running factories, keeping +stores, putting up buildings—delightful people with whom +I could not be two minutes without reproaching myself +for not having known from the cradle that nothing in life +save art ever did count, or ever could. And at this point +I can afford to get rid of Philadelphia reticence without +scruple since through this, to me, new world of work +I had the benefit of J.'s guidance.</p> + +<p>It was a moment when it had got to be the fashion +for artists in all the studios in the same building to give<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span> +receptions on the same day, and I +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +that J.'s, so +strange to me at first, was only one of an endless number. +For part of my new experience was the round of the +studios on the appointed day, when I was too oppressed +by my ignorance and my desire not to expose it and my +uncertainty as to what was the right thing to say in front +of a picture, that I do not remember much besides, except +the miniatures of Miss Van Tromp and the marines of +Prosper Senat, and why they should now stand out from +the confused jumble of my memories I am sure I cannot +see.</p> + +<p>Then J. took me to the Academy of Fine Arts and it +was revealed to me as a place not to pass by but to go +inside of: artists from all over the country struggling to +get in for its annual exhibition of paintings which already +had a reputation as one of the finest given in the country; +artists from all over the world drawn in for its international +exhibitions of etchings—Whistler, Seymour +Haden, Appian, Lalanne, a catalogue-full of etchers introduced +for the first time to my uneducated eyes; everybody +who could crowding in on Thursday afternoons to sit on +the stairs and listen to the music, while I upbraided myself +for not having known ages ago what delightful things +there were to do, instead of letting my time hang heavy +on my hands, in Philadelphia.</p> + +<p>J. had me invited to more private evenings and +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'reunion' and 're-union' were used in this text. This was retained.">reunions</ins> +of societies of artists, and I remember—if they do +not—meeting many who were at the very heart of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span> +machinery that made the wheels of the new movement go +round:—Mr. Leslie Miller, the director of the School of +Industrial Art from which promising students were +emerging or had emerged; Stephen Parrish and Blanche +Dillaye and Gabrielle Clements, whose etchings were +with the Whistlers and the Seymour Hadens in the international +exhibitions; Alice Barber full of commissions from +magazines; Margaret Leslie and Mary Trotter in their +fervent apprenticeship; Boyle and Stephens the sculptors; +Colin Cooper and Stephens the painters. What a rank +outsider I felt in their company! And how grateful I +was for my talent as a listener that helped to save me +from exposure!</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>I saw another side of the revival at my Uncle's Industrial +Art School in the eagerness of teachers and pupils +both to know and to learn and to practise—an eagerness +that had, I fear, an eye to ultimate profit. That was the +worst feature of the booming of art in the Eighteen-Eighties. +Gain was the incentive that drove too many +students to the art schools of Philadelphia as to those of +Paris, or London, and set countless amateurs in their own +homes to hammering brass and carving wood and stamping +leather. Art was to them an investment, a speculation, +a gentlemanly—or ladylike—way of making a fortune. +An English painter I know told me a few years since that +he had put quite six thousand pounds into art, what with +studying and travelling for subjects, and he thought he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span> +had a right to look for a decent return on his money. That +expresses the attitude of a vast number of Philadelphians +in their new active enthusiasm. However trumpery the +amount of labour they invested, they counted on it to +bring them in a big dividend in dollars and cents.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 308px;"> +<img src="images/gs076.jpg" width="308" height="400" alt="THE STAIRWAY, STATE HOUSE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE STAIRWAY, STATE HOUSE</span> +</div> + +<p>I am afraid my Uncle, without meaning to, encouraged +this spirit, when he started not only the Industrial Art +School, but the Decorative Art Club in Pine Street. He +was an optimist and saw only the beautiful side of anything +he was interested in. To please him I was made the Treasurer +of the Club. The Committee sympathised with my +Uncle and worked for the ultimate good he thought the +Club was to accomplish in Philadelphia. Mrs. Harrison, +Mrs. Mifflin, Mrs. Pepper, Miss Julia Biddle with whom I +served, agreed with him that women who had some training +in art would understand better the meaning of art and the +pleasure of the stimulus this understanding could give. +My Uncle, however, always ready to do anybody a good +turn, went further and was anxious that provision should +also be made to sell the work done in the Club, which in +this way would be open to many who could not otherwise +afford it. I fancy that this provision, if not the success of +the Club, was one of its chief attractions. The amateur +is apt to believe she can romp in gaily and snatch whatever +prizes are going by playing with the art which is the +life's work, mastered by toil and travail, of the artist.</p> + +<p>I criticise now, but in my new ardour I saw nothing +to criticise. On the contrary, I saw perfection: artists and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span> +students encouraged, occupations and interests lavished +upon amateurs whose lives had been as empty as mine; +and I worked myself up into a fine enthusiasm of belief +in art as a new force, or one that if it had always existed +had been waiting for its prophet,—just as electricity had +waited for Franklin to capture and apply it to human +needs. I went so far in my exaltation as to write an inspired—or +so it seemed to me—article on Art as the New +Religion, proving that the old religions having perished +and the old gods fallen, art had re-arisen in its +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'splendor' and 'splendour' were used in this text. This was retained.">splendour</ins> +and glory to provide a new gospel, a new god, to take +their place, and I filled my essay with ingenious arguments, +and liberal quotations from William Morris and +Ruskin, and rhetorical flights of prophecy. I had not +given the last finishing and convincing touches to my exposition +of the new gospel when, with my marriage, came +other work more urgent, and I was spared the humiliation +of seeing my Palace of Art collapse, like the house built +on sand, while I still believed in it. In the years that +followed I got to know most of the galleries and exhibitions +of Europe; despite my scruples I made a profession +of writing about art; and the education this meant taught +me, among other things, the simple truth that art is art, +and not religion. But I cannot laugh at the old folly +of my ignorance. The enthusiasm, the mood, out of which +the article grew, was better, healthier, than the apathy +that had saved me from being ridiculous because it risked +nothing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>These years away from home were spent largely in +the company of artists and were filled with the talk of art; +what had been marvels to me in Philadelphia became +the commonplaces of every day. But I was all the time +in Italy, or France, or England, and could not +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realize</ins> +the extent to which, for Philadelphians who had not +wandered, artists and art were also becoming more and +more a part of +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'everyday' and 'every-day' were used in this text. This was retained.">everyday</ins> +life. I did not see Philadelphia +in the changing, not until it had changed, and possibly I +feel the change more than those who lived through it. It +is not so much in the things done, in actual accomplishment, +that I am conscious of it, as in the new concern for +art, the new attentions heaped upon it, the new deference +to it. Art is in the air—"on the town," a subject of +polite conversation, a topic for the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>When I first came out, art had never supplied small +talk in society, never filled up a gap at a dull dinner or +reception. We should have been disgracefully behind the +times if we could not chatter about Christine Nilsson and +Campanini and the last opera, or Irving and Ellen Terry +and their interpretation of Shakespeare; if we had not +kept up with Trollope and George Eliot, and read the +latest Howells and Henry James, and raved over the +Rubaiyat. But we might have had the brand-newest +biographical dictionary of artists at our fingers' ends—as +we had not—and there would have been no occasion to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</a></span> +use our information. Nobody sparkled by sprinkling his +talk with the names of artists and sculptors, nobody asked +what was in the last Academy or who had won the gold +medal in Paris, nobody discussed the psychology or the +meaning of the picture of the year. I remember thinking +I was doing something rather pretentious and pedantic +when I began to read Ruskin. I remember how a friend +who was a tireless student of Kügler and Crowe and +Cavalcaselle, as a preparation to the journey to Europe +that might never come off, was looked upon as a sort of +prodigy—a Philadelphia phenomenon. But to-day I am +sure there is not the name of an artist, from Cimabue and +Giotto to Matisse and Picasso, that does not go easily +round the table at any Philadelphia dinner; not a writer +on art, from Lionardo to +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Nordan'">Nordau</ins>, +who cannot fill up +awkward pauses at an afternoon crush; not one of the +learned women of Philadelphia who could not tell you +where every masterpiece in the world hangs and just what +her emotions before it should be, who could not play the +game of attributions as gracefully as the game of bridge, +who could not dispose of the most abstruse points in art +as serenely as she settles the simplest squabble in the +nursery.</p> + +<p>The Academy is no longer abandoned in the wilderness +of Broad and Cherry Streets; its receptions and private +views are social functions, its exhibitions are events of +importance, the best given in Philadelphia and throughout +the land, its collections are the pride of the wealthy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</a></span> +Philadelphians who contribute to them, its schools are +stifled with scholarships.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs077.jpg" width="400" height="314" alt="UPPER ROOM, STENTON" title="" /> +<span class="caption">UPPER ROOM, STENTON</span> +</div> + +<p>The other Art Schools have multiplied, not faster, +however, than the students whose legions account for, if +they do not warrant, the existence not of the Academy +Schools alone, but of the School of Industrial Art, the +Drexel Institute, the Woman's School of Design, the +Uncle's old little experiment enlarged into a large Public +Industrial Art School where, I am told, the Founder is +comfortably forgotten—of more institutes, schools, classes +than I probably have heard of.</p> + +<p>The Art Galleries have multiplied: there is some reason +for Memorial Hall now that the Wilstach Collection is +housed there, and the <i>Yellow Buskin</i>, one of the finest +Whistlers, hangs on its walls, now that the collections of +decorative art are being added to by Mrs. John Harrison +and other Philadelphians who are ambitious for their town +and its supremacy in all things. Nor does this Philadelphia +ambition soar to loftier heights than in the project +for the new Parkway from the City Hall with a new Art +Gallery—the centre of a sort of University of Art if I +can rely upon the plans—to crown the Park end of this +splendid (partially still on paper) avenue, as the Arc de +Triomphe crowns the western end of the Avenue of the +Champs-Elysées.</p> + +<p>The collectors multiply, their aims, purse, field of research, +all expanding; their shyness on the subject surmounted; +Old Masters for whom Europe now weeps making<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</a></span> +their triumphant entry into Philadelphia; the highest +price, that test of the modern patron, paid for a Rembrandt +in Philadelphia; the collections of Mr. Johnson +and Mr. Widener and Mr. Elkins and Mr. Thomas in +Philadelphia as well known by the authorities as the +Borghesi collection in Rome or the Duke of Westminster's +in London.</p> + +<p>The social life of art grows and can afford the large +luxurious Club in South Broad Street, artists and their +friends amply supporting it. And the old Sketch Club, +once glad of the shelter of a room or so, has blossomed +forth in a house of its own in the flourishing "Little Street +of Clubs," with the Woman's Plastic Club close by.</p> + +<p>The artists only, as far as I can see, have not multiplied +and grown in proportion. But the artist somehow +appears to be the last consideration of those who think they +are encouraging art. Still there are new names for my +old list: Henry Thouron, Violet Oakley, Maxfield Parrish, +now ranked with the decorative painters—and, I +might just point out in passing, it is to Philadelphia that +Boston, Harrisburg, and at times New York must send +for their decorators, whose work I have not seen in place +to express an opinion on it one way or the other. Cecilia +Beaux and Adolphe Borie now figure with the portrait +painters; Waugh and Fromuth with the marine painters, +who include also Stokes, the chronicler of Arctic +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'splendor' and 'splendour' were used in this text. This was retained.">splendors</ins> +of sea and sky, and Edward Stratton Holloway, the +making of beautiful books claiming his interest no less<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</a></span> +than the sea; Glackens, Thornton Oakley, Elizabeth Shippen +Green, Jessie Wilcox Smith with the illustrators; +McCarter, Redfield with the group gathered about the +Academy; Grafly with the sculptors; Clifford Addams, +Daniel Garber with the winners of scholarships. Architects +have not lagged behind in the race—after the Furness +period, a Cope and Stewardson period, a Wilson Eyre +period, to-day a Zantzinger, Borie, Medary, Day, Page, +Trumbauer, and a dozen more periods each progressing +in the right direction; with young men from the Beaux-Arts +and young men from the University School, eager +to tackle the ever-increasing architectural commissions in +a town growing and +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'refashioning' and 're-fashioning' were used in this text. This was retained.">re-fashioning</ins> +itself faster than any +mushroom upstart of the West, to inaugurate a period of +their own.</p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>I am not a fighter by nature, I set a higher value on +peace as I grow older, and I look to ending my days in +Philadelphia. Therefore I chronicle the change; I do not +criticise it. But a few comments I may permit myself and +yet hope that Philadelphia will not bear me in return the +malice I could so ill endure. I think the gain to Philadelphia +from this new interest has, in many ways, been great. +If art is the one thing that lives through the ages—art +whether expressed in words, or paint, or bricks and mortar, +or the rhythm of sound,—it follows that the pleasure it +gives—when genuine—is the most enduring. This is a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</a></span> +distinct, if perhaps at the moment negative, gain. A more +visible gain I think comes from the new desire, the new +determination to care for the right thing: a fashion due +perhaps to the insatiable American craving for "culture," +and at times guilty of unintelligent excesses, but pleasanter +in results than the old crazes that filled Philadelphia drawing-rooms +with spinning wheels and cat's tails and Morris +mediævalism,—if they brought <i>Art Nouveau</i> in their +train, thank fortune it has left no traces of its passing; a +fashion more dignified in results than the old standards +that filled Philadelphia streets with flights of originality, +and green stone monsters, and the deplorable Philadelphia +brand of Gothic and Renaissance, Romanesque and +Venetian, Tudor and everything except the architecture +that belongs by right and tradition in Penn's beautiful +town.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs078.jpg" width="400" height="311" alt="WYCK—The doorway from within" title="" /> +<span class="caption">WYCK<br /> +The doorway from within</span></div> + +<p>But interest in art does not create art, and when +Philadelphia believes in this interest as a creator, Philadelphia +falls into a mistake that it has not even the merit +of having originated. I have watched for many years the +attempts to make art grow, to force it like a hot-house +plant. The same thing is going on everywhere. In England, +South Kensington for more than half a century +has had its schools in all parts of the kingdom, the County +Council has added to them, the City Corporation and the +City Guilds have followed suit, artists open private classes, +exhibitions have increased in number until they are a drug +on the market, art critics flourish, the papers devote<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</a></span> +columns to their platitudes. And what has England to +show as the outcome of all this care? Go look at the decorations +in the Royal Exchange and the pictures in the +Royal Academy, examine the official records and learn +how great is the yearly output of art teachers in excess of +schools for them to teach in, and you will have a good +idea of the return made on the money and time and red +tape lavished upon the teaching of art. It is no better in +Paris. Schools and students were never so many, foreigners +arrive in such numbers that they are pushing the +Frenchman out of his own Latin Quarter, American students +swagger, play the prince on scholarships, are presented +with clubs and homes where they can give afternoon teas +and keep on living in a little America of their +own. And what comes of it? Were the two Salons, with +the Salon des Indépendants and the Salon d'Automne +thrown in, ever before such a weariness to the flesh?—was +mediocrity ever before such an invitation to the posèur +and the crank to pass off manufactured eccentricity as +genius?</p> + +<p>It would not be reasonable to expect more of Philadelphia +than of London and Paris. I cannot see that finer +artists have been bred there on the luxury of scholarships +and schools than on their own efforts when they toiled all +day to be able to study at night, when success was theirs +only after a hard fight. The Old Masters got their training +as apprentices, not as pampered youths luxuriating +in fine schools and exhibitions and incomes and every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</a></span> +luxury; they were patronized and more splendidly than +any artists to-day, but not until they had shown reason for +it, not until it was an honour to patronize them. The new +system is more comfortable, I admit, but great work does +not spring from comfort. Philadelphia is wise to set up a +high standard, but not wise when it makes the way too +easy. For art is a stern master. It cares not if the weak +fall by the roadside, so long as the strong, unhampered, +succeed in getting into their own. The best thing that +has been done at the Academy for many a day is the reducing +of the scholarships from a two, or three, years' +interval free of responsibility, to a summer's holiday +among the masterpieces of Europe, which, I am told, is +all they are now.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI: PHILADELPHIA AT TABLE</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>If interest in the art of eating called for justification, +I could show that I come by mine legitimately. My +family took care of that when the sensible ancestor +who made me an American settled in Accomac, where +most things worth eating were to be had for the fishing +or the shooting or the digging, so that Accomac feasted +while the rest of Virginia still starved, and when my +Grandfather, in his day, moved to Philadelphia which is +as well provided as Accomac and more conscientious in +cultivating its possibilities. It would be sheer disloyalty +to the family inheritance if I did not like to eat well, just +as it would be rank hypocrisy to see in my loyalty a virtue.</p> + +<p>Accomac's reputation for good eating has barely got +beyond the local history book, Accomac, I find, being a +place you must have belonged to at one time or another, +to know anything about. But Philadelphia made a reputation +for its high living as soon as the Philadelphian +emerged from his original cave, or sooner—read Watson +and every other authority and you will find that before +he was out of it, even the family cat occupied itself in +hunting delicacies for the family feast. And right off +the Philadelphian understood the truth the scientist +has been centuries in groping after: that if people's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</a></span> +food is to do them good, they must take pleasure in it. +The material was his the minute he landed on the spot, +not the least recommendations of which were its fish +and game and its convenience as a port where all the +country did not produce could be brought from countries +that did—a spot that, +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'halfway' and 'half-way' were used in this text. This was retained.">half-way</ins> +between the North and +the South, assured to Philadelphia one of the best-stocked +markets in the world, ever the wonder and admiration of +every visitor to the town. Pleasure in the material, if history +can be trusted, dates as far back. A wise man once +suggested the agreeable journeys that could be planned on +a gastronomical map of France—from the Tripe of Caen +to the Bouillabaisse of Marseilles, from the Château Margaux +of Bordeaux to the Champagne of Rheims, from the +Ducks of Rouen to the Truffles of Périgord, and so, from +one end to the other of that Land of Plenty. I would +suggest that an agreeable record of Philadelphia might be +based upon the dinners it has eaten, from the historic +dinner foraged for by the cat over a couple of centuries +ago, to the banquet of yesterday in Spruce Street or +Walnut, at the Bellevue or the Ritz.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 307px;"> +<img src="images/gs079.jpg" width="307" height="400" alt="THE PHILADELPHIA DISPENSARY FROM INDEPENDENCE SQUARE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE PHILADELPHIA DISPENSARY FROM INDEPENDENCE SQUARE</span> +</div> + +<p>I should like some day to write this history myself, +when I have more space and time at my disposal. I have +always been blessed with a healthy appetite, a decent +sense of discrimination in satisfying it, and also a deep +interest in the Philosophy of Food ever since I began to +collect cookery books. The more profoundly I go into the +subject, the readier I am to believe with Brillat-Savarin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</a></span> +that what a man is depends a good deal on what he eats. +This is why I think that if the Philadelphian is to be +understood, the study of him must not stop with his +politics and his literature and his art, but must include his +marketing and his bill of fare. He has had the wit never +to doubt the importance of both, and the pride never to +make light of his genius for living well.</p> + +<p>The early Friends in Philadelphia knew better than to +pull a long face, burrowing for the snares of the flesh and +the devil in every necessity of life, like the unfortunate +Puritans up in New England. It was not to lead a +hermit's existence William Penn invited them to settle +on the banks of the Delaware, and he and they +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realize</ins>d +that pioneer's work could not be done on hermit's fare. +They entertained no fanatical disdain for the pleasures +of the table, no ascetic abhorrence to good food, daintily +prepared. Brawn and chocolate and venison were Penn's +tender offering as lover to Hannah Callowhill, olives +and wine his loving gift as friend to Isaac Norris. For +equally "acceptable presents" that admirable citizen had +to thank many besides Penn. James Logan knew that the +best way to manage your official is to dine him, and in his +day, and after it, straight on, no public commissioner, and +indeed no private traveller, could visit Philadelphia and +not be fed with its banquets and comforted with its +Madeira and Punch, while few could refrain from saying +so with an eloquence and gratitude that did them honour. +Benjamin Franklin, keeping up the tradition, was known<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</a></span> +to feast more excellently than a philosopher ought, and +his philosophy of food is explained by his admission in a +letter that he would rather discover a <i>recipe</i> for making +Parmesan cheese in an Italian town than any ancient inscription. +The American Philosophical Society could not +conduct its investigations without the aid of dinners and +breakfasts, nor could any other Philadelphia Society or +Club study, or read, or hunt, or fish, or legislate, or pursue +its appointed ends, without fine cooking and hard drinking—though +I hope they were not the inspiration of Thomas +Jefferson's severe criticism of his fellow Americans who, +he said, were unable to terminate the most sociable meals +without transforming themselves into brutes. It was +impossible for young ladies and grave elders to keep +descriptions of public banquets and family feasts and +friendly tea-drinkings out of their letters and diaries: +one reason of the fascination their letters and diaries have +for Philadelphians who read them to-day. And altogether, +by the Revolution, to judge from John Adams' +account of his "sinful feasts" in Philadelphia, and +General Greene's description of the luxury of Boston as +"an infant babe" to the luxury of Philadelphia, and the +rest of America's opinion of Philadelphia as a place of +"crucifying expenses," and many more signs of the +times, the dinners of Philadelphia had become so inseparable +from any meeting, function, or business, that +I am tempted to question whether, had they not been eaten, +the Declaration of Independence could have been signed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</a></span> +But it was signed and who can say, in face of the fact, that +Philadelphia was any the worse for its feasting? And +what if it proved a dead weight to John Adams, did Boston, +did any other town do more in the cause of patriotism +and independence?</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs080.jpg" width="400" height="310" alt="MORRIS HOUSE, GERMANTOWN" title="" /> +<span class="caption">MORRIS HOUSE, GERMANTOWN</span> +</div> + +<p>One inevitable feature of the "sinful feasts" was the +Madeira John Adams drank at a great rate, but suffered +no inconvenience from. I could not dispense with it in +these old records, such a sober place does it hold in my +own memories of Philadelphia. The decanter of Madeira +on my Grandfather's dinner table marked the state occasion, +and I would not have recognized Philadelphia on my +return had the same decanter not been produced in welcome. +It was an assurance that Philadelphia was still +Philadelphia, though sky-scrapers might break the once +pleasant monotony of low, red brick houses and motor +horns resound through the once peaceful streets.</p> + +<p>From the beginning Madeira was one of the things no +good Philadelphia household could be without—just the +sound, dignified, old-fashioned wine the Philadelphian +would be expected to patronize, respectable and upright as +himself. Orders for it lighten those interminably long +letters in the Penn-Logan correspondence, so long that all +the time I was reading them, I kept wondering which of +the three I ought to pity the most: Penn for what he had +to endure from his people; Logan for having to keep him +posted in his intolerable wrongs; or myself for wading +through all they both had to say on the subject. As time<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</a></span> +went on, I do not believe there was an official function at +which Madeira did not figure. There I always find it—the +wine of ceremony, the sacrificial wine, without which no +compact could be sealed, no event solemnized, no pleasure +enjoyed. It seems to punctuate every step in the career +of Philadelphians and of Philadelphia, and I thought +nothing could be more characteristic, when I read the +<i>Autobiography</i> of Franklin, than that it should have been +over the Philadelphia Madeira one Governor of Pennsylvania +planned a future for him, and another Governor of +Pennsylvania later on discoursed provincial affairs with +him, "most profuse of his solicitations and promises" +under its pleasant influence. Throughout the old annals +I am conscious of that decanter of Madeira always at hand, +the Philadelphian "as free of it as an Apple Tree of +its Fruit on a Windy Day in the month of July," one old +visitor to the town records with a pretty fancy for which, +as like as not, it was responsible.</p> + +<p>And throughout the more modern records, there it is +again. Even in the old-fashioned Philadelphia boarding-house +less than a century ago, the men after dinner sat +over their Madeira. New generations of visitors, like +the old, drank it and approved, the Madeira that supported +John Adams at Philadelphia's sinful feasts helping +to steer Thackeray and an endless succession of +strangers at the gate through Philadelphia's course of +suppers and dinners. It amuses me to recall, as an instance +of all it represented to Philadelphia, that for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</a></span> +couple of years at the Convent, though a healthier child +than I never lived, I was made by the orders of my Father, +obeyed by no means unwillingly on my part, to drink a +glass of Madeira, with a biscuit, every morning at eleven. +And so deep-rooted was its use in the best traditions of +Philadelphia respectability, that the irreproachable Philadelphia +ladies who wrote cookery books never omitted the +glass of Madeira from the Terrapin, and went so far as to +quote Scripture and to recommend a little of it for the +stomach's sake.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>One of these Philadelphia ladies wrote the most famous +cookery book to this day published in America; a +fact which pleases me, partly because, with Edward Fitzgerald, +I cannot help liking a cookery book, and still more +because it flatters my pride as a Philadelphian that so +famous a book should come from Philadelphia. It seems +superfluous to add that I mean Miss Leslie's <i>Complete +Cookery</i>. What else could I mean?</p> + +<p>There had been cookery books in America before Miss +Leslie's. America, with Philadelphia to set the standard, +could not get on very far without them. If in the hurry +and flurry of Colonial life, the American did not have the +leisure to write them, he borrowed them, the speediest way +to manufacture any kind of literature. There is an +American edition of Mrs. Glasse, with Mrs. Glasse left +out—the American pirate was nothing if not thorough.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[Pg 424]</a></span> +There is an American edition of Richard Briggs who was +not deprived of the credit of his book, though robbed of +his title. There are American editions I have no doubt of +many besides which I have only to haunt the old bookstalls +and second-hand book stores of Philadelphia assiduously +enough to find. But of American cookery books, +either borrowed or original, before the time of Miss Leslie, +I own but the stolen Mrs. Glasse and an insignificant little +manual issued in New York in 1813, an American adaptation +probably of an English model to which I have not yet +succeeded in tracing it.</p> + +<p>Nor do I know of any I do not own, and I know as +much of American cookery books as any of the authorities, +and I do not mind saying so, as I can without the +shadow of conceit. Vicaire includes only two or three in +his <i>Bibliographie</i>; Hazlitt, to save trouble, confined himself +to English books; Dr. Oxford's interest is frankly in +the publications of his own country, though, in his first +bibliography, he mentions a few foreign volumes, and in +his second he refers to one American piracy, and these are +the three chief bibliographers of the Kitchen in Europe. +American authorities do not exist, when I except myself. +It is true that G. H. Ellwanger made a list of cookery +books, but he threw them together anyhow, with no attempt +at classification, and his list scarcely merits the name of +bibliography. The history of the American cookery book +is a virgin field, and as such I present it to the innumerable +American students who are turned out from the Universities,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[Pg 427]</a></span> +year after year, for the research work that is frequently +of as little use to themselves as to anybody else.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 355px;"> +<img src="images/gs081.jpg" width="355" height="400" alt="THE STATE HOUSE COLONNADE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE STATE HOUSE COLONNADE</span> +</div> + +<p>But many as may be the discoveries in the future, Miss +Leslie cannot be dethroned nor deprived of her distinction +as the Mrs. Glasse of America. Other writers, if there +were any, were allowed to disappear; should they be +dragged out of their obscurity now, it would be as bibliographical +curiosities, bibliographical specimens. Miss +Leslie was never forgotten, she survives to-day, her name +honoured, her book cherished. She leapt into fame on its +publication, and with such ardour was the First Edition +bought up, with such ardour either reverently preserved +or diligently consulted that I, the proud possessor of Mrs. +Glasse in her First Edition "pot folio," of Apicius Cœlius, +Gervase Markham, Scappi, Grimod de la Reynière, and +no end of others in their first Editions, cannot as yet boast +a First Edition of Miss Leslie. I have tried, my friends +have tried; the most important +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'bookseller' and 'book-seller' were used in this text. This was retained.">book-sellers</ins> +in the country +have tried; and in vain, until I begin to think I might +as well hope for the Elzevir <i>Patissier Français</i> as the 1837 +<i>Complete Cookery</i>. It may be hidden on some unexplored +Philadelphia book shelf, for it was as indispensable in the +Philadelphia household as the decanter of Madeira. I ask +myself if its appreciation in the kitchen, for which it was +written, is the reason why I have no recollection of it in +the Eleventh and Spruce Street house, well as I remember +<i>Lippincott's</i> on the back parlour table, nor in my Father's +library, well as I recall his editions of Scott and Dickens,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[Pg 428]</a></span> +Voltaire and Rousseau, a combination expressive of a +liberal taste in literature. But never anywhere have I seen +that elusive First Edition, never anywhere succeeded in +obtaining an earlier edition than the Fifty-Eighth. The +date is 1858—think of it! fifty-eight editions in twenty-one +years! Can our "Best Sellers" surpass that as a record? +Or can any American writer on cookery after Miss Leslie, +from Mrs. Sarah Joseph Hale and Jenny June to Marion +Harland and the Philadelphia Mrs. Rorer, rank with her +as a rival to Mrs. Glasse, as the author of a cookery book +that has become the rare prize of the collector?</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>It is so proud an eminence for a quiet Philadelphia +maiden lady in the Eighteen-Thirties and Forties to have +reached that I cannot but wish I knew more of Miss Leslie +personally. From her contemporaries I have +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +nothing save that she went to tea parties like any ordinary +Philadelphian, that she was interested in the legends and +traditions of her town, which wasn't like any ordinary +Philadelphian, and that she condescended to journalism, +editing <i>The Casket</i>. There is a portrait of her at the +Academy, Philadelphia decorum so stamped upon her face +and dress that it makes me more curious than ever to +know why she was not the mother of children instead of a +writer of books. These books explain that she had a +literary conscience. In her preface to her <i>Domestic +Economy</i>, which is not an unworthy companion to her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[Pg 429]</a></span> +<i>Complete Cookery</i>, she reveals an unfeminine respect for +style. "In this as in her Cookery Book," she writes, a +dignity expressed in her use of the third person, "she has +not scrupled when necessary, to sacrifice the sound to the +sense; repeating the same words when no others could be +found to express the purport so clearly, and being always +more anxious to convey the meaning in such terms as could +not be mistaken than to risk obscuring it by attempts at +refined phraseology or well-rounded periods." Now and +then the temptation was too strong and she fell into +alliteration, writing of "ponderous puddings and curdled +custards." But this is exceptional. As a rule, in her dry, +business-like sentences, it would be impossible to suspect +her of philandering with sound, or concerning herself +with the pleasure of her readers.</p> + +<p>Her subject is one, happily, that can survive the sacrifice. +The book is a monument to Philadelphia cookery. +She was not so emancipated as to neglect all other kitchens. +<i>Recipes</i> for Soup <i>à la Julienne</i> and Mulligatawny, for +Bath Buns and Gooseberry Fools, for Pilaus and Curries, +are concessions to foreign conventions. <i>Recipes</i> for Oysters +and Shad, for Gumbo and Buckwheat Cakes, for +Mint Juleps and Sweet Potatoes, for Pumpkins and Mush, +show her deference to ideals cultivated by Americans from +one State or another. But concessions and deference do +not prevent her book—her two books—from being unmistakably +Philadelphian:—an undefinable something in +the quality and quantity, a definable something in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[Pg 430]</a></span> +dishes and ingredients. I know that in my exile, thousands +of miles from home, when I open her <i>Complete Cookery</i>, +certain passages transport me straight back to Philadelphia, +to my childhood and my youth, to the second-story +back-building dining-room and the kitchen with the lilacs +at the back-yard door. I read of Dried Beef, chipped or +frizzled in butter and eggs, and, as of old in the Eleventh +and Spruce Street house, a delicious fragrance, characteristic +of Philadelphia as the sickly smell of the +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'ailantus' and 'ailanthus' were used in this text. This was retained.">ailanthus</ins>, fills +my nostrils and my appetite is keen again for the eight +o'clock tea, long since given way to the eight o'clock +dinner. I turn the pages and come to Reed Birds, roasted +or baked, and at once I feel the cool of the radiant fall +evening, and I am at Belmont or Strawberry Mansion +after the long walk through the park, one of the gay party +for whom the cloth is laid. Or the mere mention of +Chicken Salad sets back the clock of the years and drops +me into the chattering midst of the Philadelphia five +o'clock reception, in time for the spread that, for sentiment's +sake, is dear to me in memory, but that, for digestion's +sake, I hope never to see revived. Or a thrill is in +the dressing for the salad alone, in the mere dash of mustard +that Philadelphia has the independence to give to its +Mayonnaise. I am conservative in matters of art. I would +not often recommend a deviation from French precedent +which is the most reliable and the finest. But Philadelphia +may be trusted to deviate, when it permits itself the liberty, +with discretion and distinction.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 310px;"> +<img src="images/gs082.jpg" width="310" height="400" alt="THE SMITH MEMORIAL, WEST FAIRMOUNT PARK" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE SMITH MEMORIAL, WEST FAIRMOUNT PARK</span> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[Pg 433]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII: PHILADELPHIA AT TABLE—CONTINUED</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>So much of Philadelphia is in Miss Leslie that her +silence on one or two matters essentially Philadelphian +is the greater disappointment.</p> + +<p>I have said that when I was young it was the business +of the man of the house to market and to make +the Mayonnaise for the dinner's salad, and I have searched +for the reason in vain. His appropriation of the marketing +seems to be comparatively modern. If the chronicles +are to be trusted, it was the woman's business as late as +Mrs. Washington's day. But by mine, the man's going to +market had settled solidly into one of those Philadelphia +customs taken for granted by Philadelphians simply because +they were Philadelphia customs. Never in print +have I seen any reference to this division of family labour +except in the Philadelphia stories of Thomas A. Janvier +who, as a Philadelphian, knew that it became well brought +up Philadelphia men to attend to the marketing and that +duties becoming to them were above explanation. Janvier +knew also that only in Philadelphia, probably, could it +occur to the "master of a feast" to dress the salad, and +that this was the reason "why a better salad is served at +certain dinner tables in Philadelphia than at any other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[Pg 434]</a></span> +dinner tables in the whole world." Miss Leslie is not +without honour in her own town and was there reverenced +by no one as truly as by Janvier, but his reverence for the +Art of Cookery was more profound and he shared the +belief of the initiated that in it man surpasses as hitherto, +I regret to say, he has surpassed in all the arts.</p> + +<p>Janvier himself was the last "master of the feast" it +was my good fortune to watch preparing the Mayonnaise. +It was a solemn rite in his hands, and the result not unworthy—his +salads were delicious, perfect, original, their +originality, however, never pushed to open defiance of +the Philadelphia precedents he respected. One of my +pleasantest memories of him is of his salad-making at +his own dinner table in his London rooms, one or two +friends informally gathered about him, and the summer +evening so warm that he appeared all in white—a splendid +presence, for he was an unusually handsome man, of the +rich, flamboyant type that has gone out of fashion almost +everywhere except in the South of France. The white +added, somehow, to the effect of ceremony, and he lingered +over every stage of the preparation and the mixing,—the +Philadelphia touch of mustard not omitted,—with due +gravity and care. How different the salad created with +this ceremony from the usual makeshift mixed nobody +knows how or where!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs083.jpg" width="400" height="310" alt="THE BASIN, OLD WATER-WORKS" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE BASIN, OLD +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: 'Waterworks,' 'Water Works,' and 'Water-Works' were used in this text. This was retained.">WATER-WORKS</ins></span> +</div> + +<p>That the Philadelphia man should have accepted this +responsibility, explains better than I could how high is +the Philadelphia standard. I could not understand Miss<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[Pg 437]</a></span> +Leslie's silence on the subject, did I not suspect her of a +disapproval as complete as her Cookery. She had no new-fangled +notions on the position of woman, no desire to dispute +man's long-established superiority. If she was willing +to teach women how to become accomplished housewives, +it was that they might administer to the comfort +and satisfy the appetite of their fathers and brothers and +husbands and sons. The end of woman, according to her +creed, is to make the home agreeable for man, and it would +save us many of to-day's troubles if we agreed with her. +No man, since it is to his advantage, will blame her for +being more orthodox as a woman than as a Philadelphian, +nor is it at very great cost that I forgive her. I prize her +book too much from the collector's standpoint, if from no +other, to resent its sentiment. And my joy in my copy—in +my Fifty-eighth Edition—is none the less because it was +presented to me by Janvier who, in a few short stories, +gave the spirit of the Philadelphia feast as Miss Leslie, in +two substantial volumes, collected and classified its +materials.</p> + +<p>Another thing I do not find in Miss Leslie is the Oyster +Croquette, which she could not have ignored had she once +eaten it. Therefore I am led to see in it the product of a +generation nearer my own. In my memories of childhood +it is inseparable from my Grandmother's eight +o'clock tea on evenings when the family were invited in +state—in my memories of youth inseparable from every +afternoon or evening party at which I feasted fearlessly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[Pg 438]</a></span> +and well—and it figured at many a Sunday high-tea, that +exquisite feast which, by its very name, refuses to let itself +be confounded with its coarser counterpart known to the +English as a meat-tea. From these facts I conclude, +though I have no other data to rely upon, that the Oyster +Croquette must have been not simply the masterpiece, +but the creation of Augustine, for the Oyster Croquette +which the well-brought-up Philadelphian then ate at moments +of rejoicing was always of his cooking.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>Augustine—the explanation is superfluous for Philadelphians +of my age—was a +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'colored' and 'coloured' were used in this text. This was retained.">coloured</ins> +man with the genius +of his race for cookery and probably a drop or more of the +white blood that developed in him also the genius for +organization, so that he was a leader among caterers, as +well as a master among cooks. It is worth noting that +the demand for cooks in Philadelphia being great, the +greatest cooks in America never failed to supply it: worth +noting also that the Philadelphia housewife, being thus +well supplied, had not begun when I was young to amuse +herself with the chafing-dish as she does now. For many +years, Augustine's name and creations were the chief distinction +of every Philadelphia feast. To have entertained +without his assistance would have been as serious a crime +as to have omitted Terrapin—in season—and Ice-cream +from the Philadelphia menu; as daring as to have gone for +chocolates anywhere save to Pénas' or for smilax anywhere<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[Pg 439]</a></span> +save to Pennock's, and this sort of daring in Philadelphia +would have been deplored not as harmless originality, but +as eccentricity in the worst possible taste. Thanks to +Augustine, Philadelphia became celebrated in America for +its Oyster Croquettes and Terrapin and Broiled Oysters—what +a work of genius this, with the sauce of his invention!—as +Bresse is in France for its Chickens, or York in England +for its Hams.</p> + +<p>So much I know about him, and no more—but his name +should go down in history with those of Vatel and Carême +and Gouffé: an artist if ever there was one! Because he +did not commit suicide like Vatel—his oysters were never +late—because he did not write +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'encyclopædia' and 'encyclopedia' were used in this text. This was retained.">encyclopedias</ins> of cookery +like Carême and Gouffé, his name and fame are in danger +of perishing unless every Philadelphian among my contemporaries +hastens to lay a laurel leaf upon his grave. +I fear nothing as yet has been done to preserve his memory. +His name survives on the simple front of a South Fifteenth +Street house, where I saw it and rejoiced when +I was last at home and, in compliment to him, went inside +and ate my lunch in the demure light of a highly respectable +dining-room in the society of a dozen or more highly +respectable Philadelphians seated at little tables. I could +not quarrel with my lunch—it was admirably cooked and +served—but it was an +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'everyday' and 'every-day' were used in this text. This was retained.">everyday</ins> +lunch, not the occasional +feast—the Augustine of old did not cook the ordinary meal +and the Fifteenth Street house is too modest to be accepted +as the one and only monument to his memory.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 286px;"> +<img src="images/gs084.jpg" width="286" height="400" alt="GIRARD STREET" title="" /> +<span class="caption">GIRARD STREET</span> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[Pg 440]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Oyster Croquette could not have sprung up in a +day and triumphed were Philadelphia as hide-bound with +convention as it is supposed to be. Philadelphia is conservative +in matters of cookery when conservatism means +clinging to its great traditions; it is liberal when liberality +means adapting to its own delightful ends the new idea or +the new masterpiece. It never ceased to be sure of its +materials nor of their variety, the Philadelphia market +half way between North and South continuing to provide +what is best in both: the meats of the finest—the fattest +mutton he ever saw, Cobbett, though an Englishman, +found in Philadelphia—its fruits and vegetables of the +most various, its butter, good Darlington butter, famed +from one end of the land to the other. And in the preparation +of its materials, for the sake of eating better, Philadelphians +never have hesitated to take their good where +they have found it. Dishes we prize as the most essentially +Philadelphian have sometimes the shortest pedigree. Why, +the Ice-cream that is now one of Philadelphia's most respected +institutions, came so recently that people we, of +my generation, knew could remember its coming. On +my return to Philadelphia, with the advantage the perspective +absence gives, I could appreciate more clearly +than if I had stayed at home how well Philadelphia eats +and how nobly it has maintained its old ideals, how nobly +accepted new ones. It has not wavered in the practice +of eating well and taking pleasure in the eating—the +reputation of giving good dinners is, as in my youth, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[Pg 443]</a></span> +most highly prized. To quote Janvier: "The person who +achieves celebrity of this sort in Philadelphia is not unlike +the seraph who attains eminence in the heavenly choir." +But I am conscious of a latitude that would not have been +allowed before in the choice of a place to eat them in, and +amazed at the number of new dishes.</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>The back-building dining-room was the one scene I +knew for the feast. If I were a man I could tell a different +tale. As a woman I used to hear—all Philadelphia +women used to hear—of colossal masculine banquets at the +Philadelphia Club and the Union League, of revels at the +Clover Club, of fastidious feasts at more esoteric clubs—the +State in Schuylkill, the Fish-House Club, and what +were the others?—clubs carrying on the great Colonial +traditions, perpetuating the old Colonial Punch as zealously +as the Vestal Virgins watched their sacred fire, +observing mystic practices in the Kitchen, the Philadelphia +man himself, it was said, putting on the cook's apron, presiding +over grills and saucepans, and serving up dishes of +such exquisite quality as it has not entered into the mind +of mere woman to conceive or to execute: with the true +delicacy of the gourmet choosing rather to consecrate his +talents to the one perfect dish than to squander them upon +many, shrinking as an artist must from the plebeian +"groaning-board" of the gluttonous display. To stories +of these marvels I listened again and again, but my only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[Pg 444]</a></span> +knowledge of them is based on hearsay. I would as soon +have expected to be admitted to Mount Athos or to the +old Chartreuse as to banquets and feasts and revels so +purely masculine; to ask for the vote would have seemed +less ambitious than to pray for admission. What folly +then it would be for me to pretend to describe them! What +presumption to affect a personal acquaintance I have not +and could not have! Into what pitfalls of ignorance +would I stumble! It is for the Philadelphia man some day +to write this particular chapter in the history of Philadelphia +at Table.</p> + +<p>As to the Philadelphia woman at the period of which +I speak, she had no Clubs. It was not supposed to be +good form for her to feast outside of the back-building +dining-room. She might relieve her hunger with Oysters +in Jones's dingy little shop, or a plate of Ice-cream +in Sautter's sombre saloon; or, with a boating party in +spring or summer, she might go for dinner or supper to +one of the restaurants in the Park. But for more serious +entertaining, home, or her friends' home, was the place. +Not that she was, as the fragile, fainting Angelina type +once admired, too ethereal to think of food and drink. +She could order and eat a luncheon, or a dinner, with the +best, though she did not do the marketing or make the +Mayonnaise. But she would rather have gone without +food than defy the unwritten Philadelphia law.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 302px;"> +<img src="images/gs086.jpg" width="302" height="400" alt="THE UNION LEAGUE, FROM BROAD AND CHESTNUT STREETS" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE UNION LEAGUE, FROM BROAD AND CHESTNUT STREETS</span> +</div> + +<p>Now Philadelphia has changed all that. The wise remain +faithful to the back-building dining-room and, within<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[Pg 447]</a></span> +its grave and tranquil walls, on its substantial leather-covered +chairs, Stuart's Washington looking down from +his place above the mantelpiece, they continue to feast with +a luxury Lucullus might have envied. Fashion, however, +drives the less wise to more frivolous scenes. I never +thought to see the day when I should, in Philadelphia, +lunch at a large, well-appointed, luxurious woman's club, +when I should be invited to feast at the Union League—my +lunch there was one of the most extraordinary of all +my extraordinary experiences on my return to Philadelphia—when +the cloth for my dinner would be laid in a big, +gay, noisy, crowded Country Club—and yet the miracle +had been worked in my absence and I saw not the day, but +the many days when these things happened. Not only this. +In Clubs and Country Clubs a degree of privacy is still +assured. But it is a degree too much, to judge from the +way Philadelphia rushes to lunch, and dine, and drink the +tea it does not want at five o'clock, in hotels and restaurants: +our little secluded oyster saloons exchanged for +dazzling lunch counters, the Spruce and Pine and Walnut +Street house that could not be except in Philadelphia +deserted for the Ritz and the Bellevue that might be in +New York or Chicago, Paris or London, Vienna or Rome. +The old fashion was to celebrate the feast in cloistered +seclusion, to let none intrude who was not bidden to share +it. Now the fashion is to cry out and summon the mob +and the multitude to gaze upon Philadelphia feasting. I +know that this is in a measure the result of a change that is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[Pg 448]</a></span> +not peculiar to Philadelphia alone. All the world to-day, +wherever you go, dines in public—the modern Dives must +always dine where his Lazarus cannot possibly mistake the +gate. But I could not have believed that Philadelphia +would come to it—that Philadelphia would step out from +the sanctuary into the market-place and proclaim to the +passer-by the luxury he had once so scrupulously kept +to himself.</p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>Nor is the feast quite what it was, though this is not +because it has lost, but rather because it has gained. I +trembled on my return lest the old gods be fallen. My +first visit after long years away was one of a few hours +only. I ran over from New York to lunch with old friends. +There was a horrid moment of bewilderment when I +stepped from the Pennsylvania Station into a street where +I ought to have been at home and was not, and this made +me dread that at the luncheon the change would be more +overwhelming. Certain things belong to, are a part of, +certain places that can never be the same without them. +I met a Frenchman the other day in London, who had not +been there for ten years, and who was in despair because +at no hotel or restaurant could he find a gooseberry or an +apple tart. They were not dishes of which he was warmly +enamoured; no Frenchman could be; but a London shorn +of gooseberry and apple tarts was not the London he had +known. The dread of the same disillusionment was in my +heart as I drew near my luncheon, more serious in my case<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[Pg 449]</a></span> +because the things I did not want to lose were too good to +lose. But my dread was wasted. Broad Street might +have changed, but not the Chicken Salad with the Philadelphia +dash of mustard in the Mayonnaise, not the Croquettes +though Augustine had gone, not the Ice-cream +rising before me in the splendid pyramid of my childhood +with the solid base of the Coffee Ice-cream I had +never gone to Sautter's without ordering. And I knew +that hope need not be abandoned when I was assured that, +though Sautter's have opened a big new place on Chestnut +Street, where a long <i>menu</i> disputes the honours with +their one old masterpiece, it is to the gloomy store in the +retirement of Broad and Locust that the Philadelphia +woman, who gives a dinner, sends for her Ice-cream.</p> + +<p>These things were unaltered—they are unalterable. +All the old friends reappeared at the breakfasts, luncheons +and dinners that followed in the course of the longer +visit when, not the Fatted Calf, but the Fatted Shad, +Soft-Shell Crab, Fried Oyster, Squab—how the name +mystified my friend, George Steevens, though he had but +to open an old English cookery book in my collection to +know that in England, before he was born, a Squab was a +young Pigeon—Broiled Chicken, Cinnamon Bun, little +round Cakes with white icing on top, were prepared for +the prodigal. But there were other dishes, other combinations +new to me: Grape Fruit had come in during my +absence, though long enough ago to have reached England +in the meanwhile; also the fashion of serving Shad and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[Pg 450]</a></span> +Asparagus together, the <i>dernier cri</i> of the Philadelphia +epicure, though—may I admit it now as I have not dared +to before?—a combination in which I thought two delicate +flavours were sacrificed, one to the other. And there were +amazing combinations in the Salads, daring, strange, unPhiladelphian, +calling for the French Dressing for which +my Philadelphia had small use. I so little liked the new +sign of the new Sundae at the new popular lunch-counter +and druggist's that, with true Philadelphia prejudice, I +never sampled it. And there were other innovations I +would need to write a cookery book to exhaust—sometimes +successful, sometimes not, but with no violation of the +canons of the art in which Philadelphia has ever excelled. +In every experiment, every novelty, the motive, if not the +result, was sound.</p> + +<p>For this reason I have no fear for the future of Philadelphia +cookery, if only it has the courage not to succumb +unreservedly to cold storage. The changes may be many, +but Philadelphia knows how to sift them, retaining only +those that should be retained, for beneath them all is the +changelessness that is the foundation of art.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[Pg 451]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII: PHILADELPHIA AFTER A QUARTER OF A CENTURY</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>I confess to a good deal of emotion as the train +slowed up in the Pennsylvania Station, and I think +I had a right to it. It is not every day one comes +home after a quarter of a century's absence, and at +the first glance everything was so bewilderingly home-like. +Not that I had not had my misgivings as the train +neared Philadelphia. From the car windows I had seen +my old Convent at Torresdale transformed beyond recognition, +many new stations with new names by the way, +rows and rows of houses where I remembered fields, Philadelphia +grown almost as big as London to get into, a +new, strange, unbelievable sky-line to the town, the bridges +multiplied across the Schuylkill—change after change +where I should have liked to find everything, every house, +field, tree, blade of grass even, just as I had left it. But +what change there might be in the station kept itself, for +the moment anyway, discreetly out of sight. For all the +difference I saw, I might have been starting on the journey +that had lasted over a quarter of a century instead of returning +from it.</p> + +<p>This made the shock the greater when, just outside in +Market Street, I was met by a company of mounted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[Pg 452]</a></span> +policemen. It is true they were there to welcome not me, +but the President of the United States who was due by the +next train, and were supported by the City Troop, as +indispensable a part of my Philadelphia as the sky over +my head and the bricks under my feet; true also that, well-uniformed, +well-mounted, well-groomed as they were, I +felt they would be a credit to any town. But the shock +was to find them there at all. Philadelphia in my day could +not have run, or would not have wanted to run, to anything +so officially imposing; that it could and did now was +a warning there was no mistaking. Whatever Philadelphia +might have developed, or deteriorated, into, it was +not any longer the Philadelphia I had known and loved.</p> + +<p>It was the same sort of warning all the way after that. +Wherever I went, wherever I turned, I stumbled upon an +equally impossible jumble of the familiar and the unfamiliar. +At times, I positively ached with the joy of +finding places so exactly as I remembered them that I +caught myself saying, just here "this" happened, or +"that," as I and my Youth met ourselves; at others I +could have cried for the absurdity, the tragedy, of finding +everything so different that never in a foreign land had +I seemed more hopelessly a foreigner.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 310px;"> +<img src="images/gs087.jpg" width="310" height="400" alt="BROAD STREET STATION" title="" /> +<span class="caption">BROAD STREET STATION</span> +</div> + +<p>I did not have to go farther than my hotel for a reminder +that Philadelphia, to oblige me, had not stood +altogether still during my quarter of a century's absence, +but had been, and was, busy +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'refashioning' and 're-fashioning' were used in this text. This was retained.">refashioning</ins> +itself into something +preposterously new. From one of my high windows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[Pg 455]</a></span> +I might look down to the Philadelphia Library and the +Episcopal Academy,—those two bulwarks of Philadelphia +respectability—and beyond, stretching peacefully +away to the peaceful curves of the Delaware, to a wide +plain of flat red roofs and chimneys, broken by the green +lines of the trees that follow the straight course of +Philadelphia's streets and by the small green spaces of +the trees that shade Philadelphia's back-yards: level and +lines and spaces I knew as well as a lesson +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learnt</ins> by heart. +But, from the midst of this red plain of roofs, huge high +buildings, like towers, that I did not know, sprang up into +the blue air, increasing in number as my eye wandered +northward until, from the other window, I saw them +gathered into one great, amazing, splendid group with +William Penn, in full-skirted coat and broad-brimmed hat, +springing still higher above them.</p> + +<p>When I went down into the streets, I might walk for a +minute or two between rows of the beloved old-fashioned +red brick houses, with their white marble steps and their +white shutters below and green above, and then, just as +exultantly I began to believe them changeless as the +Pyramids and the Sphinx, I would come with a jar upon +a Gothic gable, an absurd turret, a Renaissance doorway, +a façade disfigured by a hideous array of fire escapes, a +sham Colonial house, or some other upstart that dated +merely from yesterday or the day before. And here and +there a sky-scraper of an apartment house swaggered in +the midst of the little "homes" that were Philadelphia's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[Pg 456]</a></span> +pride—the last new one, to my dismay, rearing its countless +stories above the once inviolate enclosure of Rittenhouse +Square.</p> + +<p>When I went shopping in Chestnut Street my heart +might rejoice at the sight of some of the well remembered +names—Dreka, Darlington, Bailey, Caldwell, as indispensable +in my memory as that of Penn himself—but it +sank as quickly in the vain search for the many more that +have disappeared, or indeed, for the whole topsy-turvy +order of things that could open the big new department +stores into Market Street and make it the rival of Chestnut +as a shopping centre, or that could send other stores up to +where stores had never ventured in my day: stores in +Walnut Street as high as Eighteenth, a milliner's in +Locust Street almost under the shadow of St. Mark's, a +stock-broker at the corner of Fifteenth and Walnut, +Hughes and Müller—I need tell no Philadelphian who +Hughes and Müller are even if they have unkindly made +two firms of the old one—within a stone's throw of Dr. +Weir Mitchell's house; when I saw that I felt that sacrilege +could go no further.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 308px;"> +<img src="images/gs088.jpg" width="308" height="400" alt="WANAMAKER'S" title="" /> +<span class="caption">WANAMAKER'S</span> +</div> + +<p>For sentiment's sake, I might eat my plate of ice-cream +at the old little marble-topped table in the old +Locust Street gloom at Sautter's, or buy cake at Dexter's +at the old corner in Spruce Street, but Mrs. Burns with her +ice-cream, Jones with his fried oysters, had vanished, gone +away in the <i>Ewigkeit</i> as irrevocably as Hans Breitmann's +Barty or the snows of yester-year. And Wyeth's and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[Pg 459]</a></span> +Hubbell's masqueraded under other names, and Shinn, +from whom we used to buy our medicines, was dead, and the +new firm sold cigars with their ice-cream sodas, and my +Philadelphia was stuffed with saw-dust.</p> + +<p>Not a theatre was as I had left it, new ones I had +never heard of drawing the people who used to crowd the +Chestnut, which has rung down its curtain on the last act +of its last play even as I write; the Arch, given over now, +alas! to the "Movies" and the "Movies" threaten the +end of the drama not only at the Arch but at all theatres +forever; well-patronized houses flourishing in North Broad +Street; the staid Academy of Music thrown into the +shadow by its giddy prosperous upstart of a rival +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'uptown' and 'up-town' were used in this text. This was retained.">up-town</ins>.</p> + +<p>Vanished were old landmarks for which I confidently +looked—the United States Mint from Chestnut Street; +from Broad and Walnut the old yellow Dundas House +with the garden and the magnolia for whose blossoming +I had once eagerly watched with the coming of spring; +from Thirteenth and Locust the old Paterson House, +turned into the new, imposing, very much criticised building +of the Historical Society of Pennsylvania; from +Eleventh and Spruce, that other garden overlooked by the +windows of the house my Grandfather built and lived in, as +my Father did after him, and, to me more cruel, the house +itself passed into other hands, grown shabby with time, and +the sign "For Sale" hanging on its neglected walls. +Change, change, change—that was what I had come home +for!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[Pg 460]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>I am not sure, however, that I had not the worst shock +of all when I wandered from the old home, further down +Spruce Street, below the beautiful Eighteenth Century +Hospital, dishonoured now and shut in on the Spruce +Street side by I hardly know what in the way of new +wings and wards. As I had left it, this lower part of +Spruce and Pine and the neighbouring streets, had +changed less perhaps than any other part of the town—has +changed less to-day in mere bricks and mortar. It had +preserved the appropriate background for its inheritance +of history and traditions. Numerous Colonial houses remained +and upon them those of later date were modelled. +It had kept also the serenity and repose of the Quaker +City's early days, the character, dignity, charm. Many +old Philadelphia families had never moved away. It was +clean as a little Dutch town with nothing to interrupt the +quiet but the gentle jingling of the occasional leisurely +horse-car.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 301px;"> +<img src="images/gs089.jpg" width="301" height="400" alt="ST. PETER'S CHURCHYARD" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ST. PETER'S CHURCHYARD</span> +</div> + +<p>And what did I find it?—A slum, captured by the +Russian Jew, the old houses dirty, down-at-the-heel; the +once spotless marble steps unwashed, the white shutters +hanging loose; the decorative old iron hinges and catches +and insurance plaques or badges rusting, and nobody can +say how much of the old woodwork inside burned for +kindling; Yiddish signs in the windows, with here a Jewish +Maternity Home, and there a Jewish newspaper office; at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_463" id="Page_463">[Pg 463]</a></span> +every door, almost every window, and in groups in the +street, men, women and children with Oriental faces, here +and there a man actually in his caftan, bearded, with the +little curls in front of his ears, and a woman with a +handkerchief over her head, and all chattering in Yiddish +and slatternly and dirty as I remembered them in South-Eastern +Europe, from Carlsbad and Prague to those remote +villages of Transylvania where dirt was the sign by +which I always knew when the Jewish quarter was reached. +A few patriotic Philadelphians have recently returned hoping +to stem the current, and their houses shine with cleanliness. +In Fourth Street the dignified Randolph House, +which the family never deserted, seems to protest against +the wholesale surrender to the foreign invasion. In Pine +Street, St. Peter's, with its green graveyard, has survived +untarnished the surrounding desecration. But I could +only wonder how long the church and these few houses will +be able to withstand the triumphing alien, and I abandoned +hope when, at the very gate of St. Peter's, a woman with a +handkerchief tied over her head stopped me to ask the way +to "<i>Zweit und Pine</i>."</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>I know that the same thing is going on in almost all +the older parts of the United States, and the new parts +too—I know that some small New England towns can +support their two and three Polish newspapers, that +New York swarms with people who talk any and every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">[Pg 464]</a></span> +language under the sun except English, and can boast, if it +is a thing to boast of, more Italians than Rome, more Jews +than Jerusalem; that San Francisco has its Chinatown, +that the Middle West abounds in German and Swedish +settlements—in a word, I know that everywhere throughout +the country, the native American is retreating before this +invasion of the alien. But it is with a certain difference in +Philadelphia. Have I not said that one of the absurdities +of my native town—I can afford to call them absurdities +because I love them—is that for the Philadelphian who +looks upon himself as the real Philadelphian, Philadelphia +lies between the Delaware and the Schuylkill, and is +bounded on the north by Market Street, on the south by +Lombard; that in the ancient rhyming list of its streets he +recognizes only the line:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Chestnut, Walnut, Spruce, and Pine"?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Now, when I left home this narrow section was +threatening to grow too narrow and it was with some +difficulty the Philadelphian kept within it. Up till then, +however, it was in no danger except from his own increasing +numbers. The tragedy is that the Russian Jew should +have descended upon just this section, should now, not so +much dispute it with him, as oust him from it—the Russian +Jew, a Jew by religion but not by race, who has been +found impossible in every country on the Continent of +Europe into which he has drifted, so impossible when that +country is Holland that the Jews who have been there for +centuries collect among themselves the money to send<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_467" id="Page_467">[Pg 467]</a></span> +him post haste on to England and poor America, for even +the Dutch Jew cannot stand the Russian Jew—and, from +what I have heard, neither can the decent Pennsylvania +Jew who has been with us almost from the beginning. Other +aliens have been more modest and set up their slums where +they interfere less with Philadelphia tradition. I cannot +understand, and nobody has been able to explain to me, +why the Russian Jew was allowed to push his way in. But +the indolent never see the thin end of the wedge, and there +are philanthropists whose philanthropy for the people +they do not know increases in direct proportion to the harm +it does to those they do know. I was told more than once +to consider what Philadelphia was doing for the Russian +Jew, to remember that he has paid America the compliment +of accepting it as the Promised Land, that his race +in America has produced Mary Antin, and to see for myself +what good Americans were being made of his children. +But though Philadelphia may one day blossom like +the rose with Mary Antins, though there might have been +an incipient patriot in every one of the small Russian +Jews I met being taken in batches across Independence +Square to Independence Hall to imbibe patriotism at the +fount, I could not help considering rather what the Russian +Jew is just now doing for Philadelphia. For it is as +plain as a pipe stem to anybody with eyes to see that the +Philadelphians to whom Philadelphia originally belonged +are being pushed by the Russian Jew out of the only part +of it they care to live in.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs090.jpg" width="400" height="301" alt="CITY HALL FROM THE SCHUYLKILL" title="" /> +<span class="caption">CITY HALL FROM THE SCHUYLKILL</span> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_468" id="Page_468">[Pg 468]</a></span></p> + +<p>I wondered at first why so many people had fled to the +country, why so many signs "For Sale" or "For Rent" +were to be seen about Spruce and Pine and Walnut +Streets. Various reasons were given me:—with the Law +Courts now in the centre of the town and the new Stock +Exchange at Broad and Walnut, and stores everywhere, +nobody could live in town; the noise of the +trolleys is unbearable; the dirt of the city is unhealthy; +soft coal has made Philadelphia grimier than London; +the motor has destroyed distance;—excellent reasons, +all of them. But it was not until I discovered the Russian<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Jew that I understood the most important. It is</span><br /> +the Russian Jew who, with an army of aliens at his back—thousands +upon thousands of Italians, Slavs, Lithuanians, +a fresh emigration of negroes from the South, and +statistics alone can say how many other varieties—is pushing +and pushing Philadelphians out of the town—first up +Spruce Street, nearer and nearer to the Schuylkill, then +across the Schuylkill into the suburbs, eventually to be +swept from the suburbs into the country, until who can +say where there will be any room for them at all? With +the Russian Jew's genius for adapting himself to American +institutions, I could fancy him taking possession of, +and adding indefinitely to, the little two-story houses that +already stretch in well-nigh endless rows to the West and +the North, Germantown and West Philadelphia built +over beyond recognition. I remember when, one day in a +trolley, I had gone for miles and miles between these rows—each<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_471" id="Page_471">[Pg 471]</a></span> +little house with the same front yard, the same +porch, the same awning, the same rocking-chairs—I had a +horrible waking nightmare in which I saw them multiplying—as +the alien himself multiplied beyond the most +ardent dreams of Mr. Roosevelt,—and creeping out +further and further, across the city limits, across the State, +across the Middle West, across the prairies, across the +Rockies, across the Sierras, until at last they joined East +to West in one unbroken line—one great, unbroken, unlovely +monument to the enterprise of the new American, +and the philanthropy of the old: while only the Russian +Jew at the door of the State House, like Macaulay's New +Zealander under the shadow of St. Paul's, remained to +muse and moralize on the havoc he had wrought.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 313px;"> +<img src="images/gs091.jpg" width="313" height="400" alt="CHESTNUT STREET BRIDGE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">CHESTNUT STREET BRIDGE</span> +</div> + +<p>This may seem a trifle fantastic, but I should find it +hard to give an idea of how impossibly fantastic the prevailing +presence of the alien in Philadelphia appeared to +me. To be sure, we had our aliens a quarter of a century +ago. But they were mostly Irish, Germans, Swedes. The +Italian at his fruit-stall was as yet rather the picturesque +exception, and I can remember how, not very long before +I left home, the whole town went to stare at the first importation +of Russian Jews, dumped down under I have +forgotten what shelter, as if they were curiosities or freaks +from Barnum's. But now the aliens are mostly Latins, +Slavs, Orientals who do not fit so unobtrusively into +our American scheme of things, and who come from the +lowest classes in their own countries, so ignorant and degraded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_472" id="Page_472">[Pg 472]</a></span> +most of them that, what with their increasing +numbers and our new negro population from the South, +there are people in Pennsylvania who are trying to introduce +an educational test at the polls—America having +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +the evil of universal suffrage just as England is +coquetting with it.</p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>The rest of Philadelphia—the rest of America, for that +matter—may be accustomed to this new emigration to my +town as well as to all parts of the country. But I had not +seen the latter-day alien coming in by every steamer, and +gradually, almost imperceptibly, establishing himself. +The advantage, or disadvantage, of staying away from +home so long is that, on returning, one gets the net result +of the change the days and the years bring with them. +Those who stay at home are broken in to the change in its +initial stages and can accept the result as a matter of +course. I could not. To be honest, I did not like it. I +did not like to find Philadelphia a foreign town.</p> + +<p>I did not like to find Streets where the name on almost +every store is Italian. I did not like to find the new types +of negro, like savages straight from the heart of Africa +some of them looked, who are disputing South Street and +Lombard Street and that disgraceful bit of Locust Street +with the decent, old-fashioned, self-respecting Philadelphia +darkies. I did not like to find the people with +foreign manners—for instance, to have my hand kissed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_473" id="Page_473">[Pg 473]</a></span> +for a tip in the hotel by a Lithuanian chambermaid, though +I should add that in a month she had grown American +enough to accept the same tip stoically with a bare "Thank +You." I did not like to find the foreigner forcing his way +not only into the Philadelphian's houses, the Philadelphian's +schools, the Philadelphian's professions—professions +that have been looked upon as the sacred right of certain +Philadelphia families for almost a couple of centuries. +I have heard all about his virtues, nobody need remind +me of them; I know that he is carrying off everything +at the University so that rich Jews begin to think they +should in return make it a gift or bequest, as no rich Jew +has yet, I believe. I know that the young Philadelphian +must give up his sports and his gaieties if he can hope to +compete with the young Russian Jew who never allows +himself any recreation on the road to success—and perhaps +this won't do the young Philadelphian any harm. I +know that if the Russian Jew keeps on studying law, the +Philadelphia lawyer will be before long as extinct as the +dodo—a probability that if it wakes up the Philadelphia +lawyer may have its uses. All this, and much besides, I +know—also, incidentally, I might add the fact that the +Russian Jew, who is not unintelligent, has mastered in a +very short time the possibilities of arson and bankruptcy +as investments. But if there were no other side to his +virtues—and of course there is that other side too—I should +not like to think of the new Philadelphian that is to come +out of this incredible mixture of Russian Jews and countless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_474" id="Page_474">[Pg 474]</a></span> +other aliens as little like us in character and tradition.</p> + +<p>The new Philadelphian may be a finer creature far +than in my hopes for him, finer far than the old Philadelphian +I have known—but then he will not be that old Philadelphian +whom I do not want to lose and whom it would +be a pity to lose in a country for which, ever since Penn +pointed the way to the constitution of the United States, he +has probably accomplished more than any other citizen.</p> + +<p>Personally, I might as well say that I do not believe +he will be a finer creature. It seems to me that he is doing +away with the old American idea of levelling up and is +bent on the levelling down process that is going on all over +Europe. And so foreign is he making us, that I would +not think J. very far wrong in declaring himself the only +real American left, if only he would include me with him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 294px;"> +<img src="images/gs092.jpg" width="294" height="400" alt="THE NARROW STREET" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE NARROW STREET</span> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_477" id="Page_477">[Pg 477]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX: PHILADELPHIA AFTER A QUARTER OF A CENTURY—CONTINUED</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>It was not only the change that oppressed me those +first days of my return. As bewildering, as discouraging, +were the signs everywhere of the horrible +haste with which it has been brought about: a haste foreign +to the Philadelphia habit. But the aliens pouring +into Philadelphia have increased its population at such a +prodigious rate that it has been obliged to grow too +prodigiously fast to meet or to adapt itself to the new +conditions without the speed that does not belong to it.</p> + +<p>I had left it a big, prosperous, industrial town—Baldwin's, +Cramp's, Kensington and Germantown mills all in +full swing—but it carried off its bigness, prosperity, and +industry with its old demure and restful airs of a country +town. The old-fashioned, hard-working, Philadelphia +business man could still dine at four o'clock and spend the +rest of the afternoon looking out of the window for the +people who rarely passed and the things that never happened—nobody +would be free to dine at four +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'nowadays' and 'now-a-days' were used in this text. This was retained.">now-a-days</ins>, +nobody would have the leisure to sit at any hour looking +out of the window, except perhaps the Philadelphia clubman +who clings to that amiable pastime, as he does, so +far successfully, to his Club house, threatened on every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_478" id="Page_478">[Pg 478]</a></span> +side as it is by the advance of the sky-scraper. The old-fashioned +busy Philadelphia crowds, as I remember them, +could still take their time in the streets, so that I remember, +too, my friend, George Steevens' astonishment because a +passer-by he thanked for information could linger to say +"You are very welcome." The old-fashioned Philadelphia +business, going on at a pace that only New York and +Chicago could beat, was still accomplished with so little +fuss that the rest of America laughed at Philadelphia for +its slowness and sleepiness, and told those old time-worn +stories that have passed into folk-lore. It was just this +that gave Philadelphia such a distinct character of its +own—that it could be laughed at for slowness and sleepiness +by the other towns, and all the while be sleepy and +slow to such good purpose as to make itself into one of the +most prosperous and influential in the country: to be able +to work at the American pace and yet preserve its dignity +and sedateness.</p> + +<p>But the old stories have lost what little point they had. +Philadelphia does not look slow and sleepy any longer. +Things have changed, indeed, when a modern traveller like +Mr. Arnold Bennett can speak of "spacious gaiety" in +connection with Philadelphia—with its spacious dulness +the earlier traveller was more apt to be impressed. At last, +however, it has given up its country-town airs for the +airs of the big town it is—given up the calmness that was +its chief characteristic for the hurry-flurry of the ordinary +American town. And there is scarcely a Philadelphian<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_481" id="Page_481">[Pg 481]</a></span> +who regrets it, that is the saddest part of it—scarcely a +Philadelphian who does not rejoice that Philadelphia is +getting to be like New York.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs093.jpg" width="400" height="297" alt="THE MARKET STREET ELEVATED AT THE DELAWARE END" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE MARKET STREET ELEVATED AT THE DELAWARE END</span> +</div> + +<p>I think, of all the innovations, this was the one that +distressed me most, though I could understand the difficulty +of calm in the face of the multitude of new housing +and traffic problems it has had to tackle, at a rate and with +a speed that the Philadelphian, left to himself, would never +have imposed upon it. Somehow, it has had to keep on +putting up those rows of little two-story houses in sufficient +numbers to shelter the too rapidly increasing population +if it is to maintain its reputation as the City of +Homes; somehow, it has had to provide subways, and +elevateds, and new suburban lines with no level crossings, +and new central Stations and Terminals, and big trolley +cars out of all proportion to Philadelphia's narrow streets, +and taxis too dear for any but the millionaire to drive in, if +the too-rapidly increasing crowds are to be got to work and +back again; somehow, new bridges have had to cross the +Schuylkill, new streets have had to be laid out, so many +new things have had to be begun and done in the too-rapidly +growing town, that there is small chance and less +time for it to take them calmly or, alas! to keep itself +clean and tidy.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>In my memory Philadelphia was a model of cleanliness +under a clean sky, free of the smoke that the use of +soft coal has brought with it. Every Saturday every servant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_482" id="Page_482">[Pg 482]</a></span> +girl—"maid," Philadelphia calls her now—turned +out with mops and buckets and hose, for such a washing up +of the front for a week that, until the next Saturday, +Philadelphia could not look dirty if it tried. But I do not +believe that a legion of servant girls, with all the mops, +buckets, and hose in the world, could ever wash Philadelphia +clean again, to such depths of dirt has it fallen. It +could not have been more of a disgrace to its citizens when +Franklin deplored the shocking condition of its streets, +especially in wet weather, or when Washington had to +wade through mud to get to the theatre where he found +his recreation. It has become actually the Filthydelphia +somebody once called it in jest. Not even in the little +Spanish and Italian towns whose dirt the American deplores, +have I seen such streets—all rivers and pools and +lakes when it rains, ankle-deep in dust when it is dry, +papers flying loose, corners choked with dirt, tins of ashes +and garbage standing at the gutter side all day long—even +London, that I used to think the dirtiest of dirty +towns, knows how to order its garbage better than that. +We Americans are supposed to be long-suffering, to endure +almost anything until the crisis comes. But I thought +that crisis had long since come in the Philadelphia streets. +Everybody agreed with me, and I was assured that a +corrupt government having been got out and a reform +government got in, already there was tremendous talk of +schemes for garbage—bags to be hauled off full of garbage,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_485" id="Page_485">[Pg 485]</a></span> +dust-tight on the way, and hauled back empty, old +paper to be bought up by the city so that no thrifty citizen +would throw a scrap of paper into the street—and as +tremendous talk of experiments in garbage, ten patriotic +citizens promising to contribute one thousand dollars each +to make them. I was assured also that the reform Mayor +has done his best and struggled valiantly against the evil, +but unfortunately it is not he alone who can vote the money +for a wholesale spring-cleaning. It occurred to me that, in +the meanwhile, we might be better off if we returned with +much less expense, to the hogs that were "the best of +scavengers" when William Cobbett visited Philadelphia. +Or, at no more than the cost of a ticket to New York, the +reformers might at least learn how to keep garbage tins +off the front steps of inoffensive, tax-paying citizens at +five o'clock in the afternoon when they ask their friends to +drink tea in that English fashion which is as novel in my +Philadelphia as the difficulty with the garbage.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs094.jpg" width="400" height="309" alt="THE RAILROAD BRIDGES AT FALLS OF SCHUYLKILL" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE RAILROAD BRIDGES AT FALLS OF SCHUYLKILL</span> +</div> + +<p>My own opinion was that Philadelphia had lost its +head over the magnitude of the task before it. In no other +way could I account for the recklessness with which old +streets were torn up for blocks and repaired by inches; +new streets built and horrible stagnant pools left on their +outskirts—the suburbs quite as bad in this respect, so bad +that I understand associations of citizens are formed to +do what the authorities don't seem able to; boulevards +planned and held up when half finished, a monumental<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_486" id="Page_486">[Pg 486]</a></span> +entrance designed to the most beautiful Park in the world +and, on its either side, silly little wooden pergolas set up to +try the effect, by the dethroned government I believe, and, +though nobody, from one end of the town to the other, +approves, neither the time nor the money is found to pull +them down again—neither the time nor the money found +for anything but dirt and untidiness.</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>The people, their manners, their life,—everything +seemed to me to have been caught in this mad whirlwind +of change and haste. The crowds in the street were not +the same, had forgotten the meaning of repose and leisureliness; +had at last given in to the American habit of +leaving everything until the last moment and then rushing +when there was no occasion for rush, and pretending to +hustle so that not one man or woman I met could have +spared a second to say +"<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Your'">You</ins> +are welcome" for anybody's +"Thank you," or, for that matter, to provide the +information for anybody's thanks;—indeed, these crowds +seemed to me to have mastered their new rôle with such +thoroughness that to-day the visitor from abroad will carry +away the same idea of Philadelphia as Arnold Bennett, +who, during his sojourn there, never ceased to marvel at its +liveliness.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 318px;"> +<img src="images/gs095.jpg" width="318" height="400" alt="THE PARKWAY PERGOLAS" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE PARKWAY PERGOLAS</span> +</div> + +<p>And the crowds have migrated from the old haunts—every +sign of life now gone from Third Street and round +about the Stock Exchange, where nobody now is ever in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_489" id="Page_489">[Pg 489]</a></span> +a hurry—carts and cars going at snail's pace, the whole +place looking as if time did not count—the old town business +quarter deserted for Market Street and Broad Street +round the City Hall.</p> + +<p>And the crowds do not get about in the same way—no +slow, leisurely ride in the horse-car to a <i>Depot</i> in the +wilds of Frankford, or at Ninth and Green, on the way +to the suburbs, but a leap on a trolley, or a rush through +thronged streets to the <i>Terminal</i> at Twelfth and Market, +to the <i>Station</i> at Broad and Market. And it was another +sign of how Philadelphia had "moved" since the old days +when, in place of the old horse-car, which I could rely upon +to go in a straight line from one end of the long street to +the other, I took the new trolley and it twisted and turned +with me until the exception was to arrive just where I +expected to, or, if I only stayed in it long enough, not to +be landed in some remote country town where I had no +intention of going. I have been told the story of the stay-at-home +Philadelphian as puzzled as I, who was promised +by a motorman, as uncertain as she where he was going, +that at least he could give her a "nice ride through a +handsome part of the town." Worse still, the trolley did +not stop at the corners where the car used to stop so that I, +a native Philadelphian, had to be told where to wait for it +by an interloper with a foreign accent. Nor was it crowded +at the same hours as the car used to be, so that going out to +dinner in a Walnut Street trolley I could sit comfortably +and not be obliged to hang on to a strap, with everybody<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_490" id="Page_490">[Pg 490]</a></span> +who got in or out helping to rub the freshness from my best +evening gown, which would have been my fate in the old +days.</p> + +<p>And the crowds were not managed in the old way—the +ordinary policeman used to do his best to keep out of +sight, and here was the mounted policeman prancing about +everywhere, and, at congested corners, adding to the confusion +by filling up what little space the overgrown trolleys +left in the narrow streets. I am not sure that it was not +this mounted policeman—unless it was the +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'colored' and 'coloured' were used in this text. This was retained.">coloured</ins> policemen +and the <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'colored' and 'coloured' were used in this text. This was retained.">coloured</ins> +postmen—I had most difficulty in +getting accustomed to. I came upon him every day, or +almost every hour, with something of a new shock. Can +this be really I, I would say to myself when I saw him in +his <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'splendor' and 'splendour' were used in this text. This was retained.">splendour</ins>, +can this be really Philadelphia?</p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>The difference I deplored was not confined to the +crowds I did not know; it was no less marked in the people +I did know, in their standards and outlook, in the way +they lived. It is hard to say what struck me most, though +nothing more obviously the first few days than that flight +to the suburbs which had left such visible proofs as those +signs "For Rent" and "For Sale" everywhere in the +streets where I was most at home—a flight necessitated +perhaps by the inroads of the alien, but only made possible +by the annihilation of space due to the motor-car.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 319px;"> +<img src="images/gs096.jpg" width="319" height="400" alt="MARKET STREET WEST OF THE SCHUYLKILL" title="" /> +<span class="caption">MARKET STREET WEST OF THE SCHUYLKILL</span> +</div> + +<p>Once, when a Philadelphian set up a carriage, it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_493" id="Page_493">[Pg 493]</a></span> +the announcement to Philadelphia that he had earned the +fifty thousand dollars which fulfilled his ideal of a fortune. +In my day Fairman Rogers' four-in-hand was the limit, +and but few Philadelphians had the money and the recklessness +to rival him. Now the Philadelphian does not +have to earn anything at all before he sets up his motor-car, +and it is the announcement of nothing except that he +is bound to keep in the swim. Our children begin where +we leave off, as one of my contemporaries said to me. +Everybody has a motor-car. Everybody who can has one +in London, I know, and there also the signs "To Let" +and "For Sale" in such regions as Kensington and Bayswater +have for some time back explained to me the way it +has turned London life upside down. But in Philadelphia +not merely everybody who can, but everybody who can't +has one, and the Philadelphian would not do without it, if +he had to mortgage his house as its price. I remember +how incredulous I was, one of my first Sunday evenings +at home, when I was dining with friends in the crowded-to-suffocation +dining-room at the Bala Country Club and +was given as an excuse for being rushed from my untasted +coffee to catch an inconsiderately early last train, that ours +was probably the only dinner party in the room without a +car to take us back to town. But from that evening on I +had no chance for incredulity, my own movements beginning +to revolve round the motor-car. If I was asked to +dinner and lunch at a distance to which nobody would +have thought of dragging me by train in the old days, a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_494" id="Page_494">[Pg 494]</a></span> +motor was sent to whirl me out in no time at all. If I went +into a far suburb for an afternoon visit, instead of coming +soberly back to town on my return ticket, I would take a +short cut by flying over half the near country, often in the +car of people I had never seen before, as the most convenient +route to the hotel. All Philadelphia life is regulated +by the motor-car. It makes a ball or a tea or a dinner +ten miles away as near as one just round the corner was in +my time, and so half the gaiety is transferred to the +suburbs and the suburban country, and, to my surprise, I +found girls still going to dances at midsummer.</p> + +<p>And the motor has made club life for women indispensable. +The woman who comes up to town in her car +must have a Club, and there is the Acorn Club in Walnut +Street, The New Century, and the College and Civic +Clubs, jointly housed at Thirteenth and Spruce, and +more clubs in other streets, probably, which it was not +my privilege to be invited to; all, to judge by the Acorn, +with luxurious drawing-and dining-and smoking-and +dressing-and bed-rooms, and women coming and going +as if they had lived in clubs all their lives, when a +short quarter of a century before there had not been one +for them to see the inside of. And for men and women +both, the car has brought within their reach those amazing +Country Clubs that have sprung up in my absence. I had +read of Country Clubs in American novels and short +stories, I had seen them on the stage in American plays, +but I had never paused to think of them as realities in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_495" id="Page_495">[Pg 495]</a></span> +Philadelphia until I was actually taken to the Bala and +Huntington Valley Clubs, and until I ate their admirable +dinners—at Bala, with the crowds and in the light and to +the music that would have made me feel I was in a London +restaurant, had it not been for the inevitable cocktail—and +until I saw with my own eyes the luxurious houses so +comfortably and correctly appointed—even to brass bedroom +candlesticks on a table in the second-story hall, just +as in an old-fashioned English inn, though as far as I could +make out there was excellent electric light everywhere—until +I also saw with my own eyes the trim lawns, and +gardens, and the wide view over the delicate American +landscape, and women in the tennis courts, and the men +bringing out their ponies for polo, and the players dotted +over the golf course.</p> + +<p>And whether the Country Clubs have created the +sport or the sport has created the Country Clubs, I cannot +say, but in the increased attention to sport I was confronted +with another difference as startling. Philadelphia, +I know, has always been given to sport. It hunted +and raced and fished before time and conscience allowed +most of the other Colonists in the North the chance to +amuse themselves out-of-doors, or indoors either, poor +things! And the old sports, barring the least civilized +like bull-baiting and cock-fighting, were kept up, and are +kept up, and had their Clubhouses, which, in some cases, +have survived. But, in my time, these sports had been +limited to the few who had country houses in the right districts<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_496" id="Page_496">[Pg 496]</a></span> +or the leisure for the gentlemanly pursuit of foxes +and fishes, and their clubs were primitive compared to the +palatial Country Clubs, whose luxury women now share +with men. If you were in the hunting or fishing set, +you heard all about it; but if you were not, you heard +little enough. But you did not have to be in any set +to keep up with the great Philadelphia game of cricket, +which was popular, exclusive as the players in their +team might be—all Philadelphia that did not play scrupulously +going on the proper occasions to the Germantown +Cricket Ground to watch all Philadelphia that did. +The one alternative as popular was the pastime of rowing, +the exclusiveness here in the rowing men's choice +among the Clubs with the little boating clubhouses on +the Schuylkill where boats could be stowed. And now? +The cricket goes on, as gentlemanly and correct a +pastime as ever. And the boating goes on, but with a +delightful exclusive old Colonial house, for one Club at +least, hidden in thickets of the Park where the stranger +might pass within a stone's throw and never discover it, +but where the boating party can dine with a privacy and a +sumptuousness undreamed of at Belmont, where boating +parties dined in my young days. And, in addition, time +has been prodigal with golf and tennis and polo; women, +who had begun tennis in my time, now beginning golf, +games which, I might as well admit, I have no use for +and can therefore say little about. And I am told that +the University <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'football' and 'foot-ball' were used in this text. This was retained.">foot-ball</ins> +matches are among the most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_499" id="Page_499">[Pg 499]</a></span> +important and lavishly patronized social functions of the +year. And in town is the big Racquets Club, in a fine +new building, big enough to shelter any number of sports +besides. And the Natatorium, in moving from the unpretentious +premises in South Broad Street, where it has +left its old building and name, to the marble palace +that was once George W. Childs's. Oh, the sacrilege! +the house where his emperors and princes and lords and +authors were entertained,—has converted the swimming +lesson into the luxury of sport. And all told, so many, +and so exhaustive, and so universal are the provisions for +sport that I might have believed the Philadelphian had +nothing in the world to do, save to invent amusements to +help him through his empty hours.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs097.jpg" width="400" height="313" alt="MANHEIM CRICKET GROUND" title="" /> +<span class="caption">MANHEIM CRICKET GROUND</span> +</div> + +<p>And, apparently, it is to provide for the same empty +hours that those elaborate lunch places have multiplied on +Chestnut Street, some delightful where you feast as only +Philadelphia can, some horrible where you sit on high +stools at counters and fight for your food; that little quiet +discreet tea-places have sprung up in side streets; that +gilded restaurants, boasting they reproduce the last London +fads and fashions, have succeeded the old no restaurant +at all; that hotels as big and strident as if they had +strayed off Fifth Avenue increase in number year by +year, culminating in the Adelphia, the latest giant, which +I have not seen; that the old poky hotels of my day have +branched out in roof gardens where on hot summer evenings +you can sit up among the sky-scrapers, a near neighbour<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_500" id="Page_500">[Pg 500]</a></span> +to William Penn on his tower, and get whatever air +stirs over the red-hot furnace of Philadelphia; that a huge +new hotel has appeared up Broad Street where it seems the +Philadelphian sometimes goes with the feeling of adventure +with which he once descended upon Logan Square. +Even business hours are broken into; the lunch of a dozen +oysters or a sandwich snatched up anywhere has gone out +of fashion; the chop, in the Philadelphia imitation of a +London chop-house that seemed luxurious in my Father's +day, has become far too simple; and disaster was predicted +to me for the Stock Exchange by a pessimistic member +who knew that, from the new building that has followed +the Courts to the centre of the town, brokers will be running +over to lunch at the Bellevue and to incapacitate +themselves more or less for the rest of the day, and business +will go on drifting, as it has begun to, to New York +and will all be done by telephone. And as if the feasting +were not enough of a pastime, everywhere lunches, teas +and dinners are served to the sound of music, so that distraction +and diversion may be counted upon without the +effort to talk for them. When I was young, the best +Philadelphia could do in the way of combining music and +eating—or principally drinking—was at the Mäennerchor +Garden at Ninth and Green, where a pretzel might be had +with a glass of beer, or a sherry cobbler, or a mint julep—"high-balls" +had not been heard of—and the Philadelphia +girl who went, though it was under the irreproachable +charge of her brother, could feel that she was doing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_503" id="Page_503">[Pg 503]</a></span> +something very shocking and compromising. But in the +new Philadelphia, it is music whenever the Philadelphian +eats or drinks in public, which seems to be next to always.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 335px;"> +<img src="images/gs098.jpg" width="335" height="400" alt="DOCK STREET AND THE EXCHANGE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">DOCK STREET AND THE EXCHANGE</span> +</div> + +<p>It may be said that these are harmless innovations, part +of the change in town life as lived in any other town as +big. But the marvel to me was their conquest of Philadelphia, +the town that used to pride itself on not being like +other towns, and there they exaggerated themselves in my +eyes into nothing short of revolution. The craving for +novelty—that was at the root of it all: of the restlessness, +the willingness to do what the old-fashioned Philadelphian +would rather have been seen dead than caught doing, +of the deliberate break with tradition. Nothing now can +be left peacefully as it was. I felt the foundations of +the world crumble when I heard that the Dancing Class +has taken new quarters over in Horticultural Hall and the +Assembly in the Bellevue, that Philadelphia consents to +go up Broad Street for its opera, quieting its conscience +by the compromise of going in carriages and motors and +never on foot. There surely was the end of the old +Philadelphia, the real Philadelphia. And it made matters +no better to be assured that so rapidly does Philadelphia +move with the times that the Philadelphian who stays away +from home, or who is in mourning, for a year or so, finds on +coming back, or out of retirement, that Philadelphia society +has been as completely transformed in the meanwhile +as Philadelphia streets. Nor did it make matters +better to discover the different prices that different<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_504" id="Page_504">[Pg 504]</a></span> +standards have brought in their train. I could see the new +pace at which life in public is set, I heard much of the +new pace set for it in private—servants' wages prohibitive +according to old ways of thinking, provisions risen to a +scale beyond belief, +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'everyday' and 'every-day' were used in this text. This was retained.">every-day</ins> +existence as dear as in London—in +Philadelphia, as elsewhere, people threatened with +ruin from, not the high cost of living, but the cost of high +living.</p> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<p>And the change is not simply in the outward panoply, +in the parade of life, it is in the point of view, in the new +attitude toward life—a change that impressed itself upon +me in a thousand and one ways. I have already referred to +my astonishment at finding Philadelphia occupying itself +with art and literature. But really there is nothing with +which it does not occupy itself. Universal knowledge has +come into fashion and it makes me tired just to think of +the struggle to keep up to it. Once the Philadelphian +thought he knew everything that was necessary to know +if he could tell you who every other Philadelphian's +grandfather was. But now he, or I should say she—for +it is the women who rule when it comes to fashion—is not +content unless she knows everything, or thinks she does, +from the first chapter in Genesis to the latest novelty on +the Boulevards, the latest club gossip in Pall Mall. And +how she can talk about it! I have made so many confessions +in these pages that it will do no harm to add one +more to their number, and to own my discomfiture when,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_505" id="Page_505">[Pg 505]</a></span> +on finding myself one of a group of Philadelphia women, +I have been stunned into silence, in my ignorance reduced +to shame and confusion by their encyclopedic, +Baedeker-Murray information and their volubility in imparting +it. It is wonderful to know so much, but, as the +philosopher says, what a comfort, to be sure, a dull person +may be at times.</p> + +<p>On the whole, it was the new interest in politics that +most astonished me. That just when Philadelphia has +plunged into incredible frivolity, it should develop an +interest in problems it calmly shirked in its days of +sobriety—that is astounding if you will. When I left +home, politics were still beneath the active interest of the +Philadelphian—still something to steer clear from, to keep +one's hands clean of. A man who would rather live on +the public than do an honest day's work, was my Father's +definition of the politician. I remember what a crank we +all thought one of my Brother's friends who amused himself +by being elected to the Common Council. It was not +at all good form—who of self-respect could so far forget +himself as to become part, however humble, of the machine, +a hail-fellow-well-met among the Bosses and liable +to be greeted as Bill or Tom or Jim by the postman on his +rounds or the policeman at the corner. Better far let the +city be abominably governed and the tax-payers outrageously +robbed, than to submit to such indignities. The +Philadelphian who <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realize</ins>d +what he owed to himself and +his position was superior to politics. But he is not any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_506" id="Page_506">[Pg 506]</a></span> +longer. I found him up to his eyes in politics—taking the +responsibility of municipal reform, waging war against +state corruption, running meetings for Roosevelt and +Progress at the last Presidential election. And not only +this. The women are sharing his labours—the women +who of old hardly knew the meaning of politics, might +have been puzzled even to know how to spell the unfamiliar +word—they too are busy with civic reform, +and turn a watchful but unavailing eye on the garbage, +and run settlements in the slums, and qualify as policemen, +and demand the vote—parade for it, hold public +meetings for it, hob-nob with +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'colored' and 'coloured' were used in this text. This was retained.">coloured</ins> +women for it, +run after the discredited English militant for it,—and talk +politics on any and every occasion. There were days when +I heard nothing but politics—politics at lunch, politics at +tea, politics at dinner—think of it! politics at a Philadelphia +dinner party, politics over the Soft Shell Crabs and +the Shad and the Broiled Chicken and the Ice-cream from +Sautter's and the Madeira! It is better and wiser and +more improving, no doubt, than the old vapid talk—but +then the old vapid talk was part of my Philadelphia, and +my Philadelphia was what I wanted to come back to.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs099.jpg" width="400" height="304" alt="THE LOCOMOTIVE YARD, WEST PHILADELPHIA" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE LOCOMOTIVE YARD, WEST PHILADELPHIA</span> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_509" id="Page_509">[Pg 509]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XX: PHILADELPHIA AFTER A QUARTER OF A CENTURY—CONTINUED</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>Of course I resented all the changes and, equally of +course, it was unreasonable that I should. I had +not stood stock still for a quarter of a century, +why should I expect Philadelphia to?</p> + +<p>And little by little, as I got my breath again after my +first indignant surprise, as I pulled myself together after +my first series of shocks, I began to understand that the +wonder was that anything should be left, and to see that +Philadelphia has held on to enough of its character and +beauty to impress the stranger, anyway, with the fine +serenity that I missed at every turn. Philadelphia does +not "bristle," Henry James wrote of it a very few years +ago, by which he meant that it does not change, is incapable +of changing, though to me it was, in this sense, so "bristling" +that I tingled all over with the pricks. But, then, +I knew what Philadelphia had been. That was why I was +impressed first with the things that had changed, why, also, +my pleasure was the keener in my later discovery of the +things that had not.</p> + +<p>I can laugh now at myself for my joy in all sorts of +dear, absurd trifles simply because of their homely proof +that the new Philadelphia had saved some relics of the old. +What they stood for in my eyes gave value to the little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_510" id="Page_510">[Pg 510]</a></span> +iced Cakes of my childhood; to the frequent street parade, +glorified as it was beyond recognition by the new presence +of the mounted police; to the City Troop, gorgeous and +splendid as of old, and as of old turning out to decorate +every public ceremony; to the nice old-fashioned "ma'am," +unheard in England except, I believe, at court; to all the +town, including my hotel, getting ready for the summer +with matting and gauze and grey Holland. Old associations, +old emotions, were stirred by the fragrance of the +Cinnamon Bun that is never so fragrant out of Philadelphia, +and one of the cruelest disappointments of my return +was not to be able to devour it with the untrammelled +appetite of youth when it was offered me in an interval +between the Soft-Shell Crab and Ice-cream of a Philadelphia +lunch and the Planked Shad and Broiled Chicken of +a Philadelphia dinner. The row of heads at the Philadelphia +Club windows, so embarrassing to me in my youth, +borrowed beauty from association. I was thrilled by the +decanter of Sherry or Madeira on the dinner table, where +I had not seen it served in solitary grandeur since I had +last dined in Philadelphia. The old rough kindliness of the +people—when they were not aliens—in the streets, in the +stores, in the trolleys, went to my heart. And in larger +ways, too, the place filled me with pride for its constancy: +for the steady development of all that made it great from +the beginning—its schools, its charities, its hospitals, its +libraries, its galleries; above all, for retaining what it +could of its dignified reticence in keeping its private affairs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_513" id="Page_513">[Pg 513]</a></span> +to itself. It may live more in public than it did, but it still +does not shriek all its secrets from the house-top. It does +not thrust all its wealth down every man's throat. It still +hides many of its luxurious private palaces behind modest +brick fronts. It may have broken out in gaudy hotels and +restaurants, but Friends still continue to go their peaceful +way completely apart in their spacious houses and +pleasant gardens. Nor would any other town be so shy +in acknowledging to itself, and boasting to others of, its +beauty.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 307px;"> +<img src="images/gs100.jpg" width="307" height="400" alt="THE GIRARD TRUST COMPANY" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE GIRARD TRUST COMPANY</span> +</div> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>Philadelphia has always been over-modest as to its +personal appearance,—always on the surface, indifferent +to flattery. Nobody would suspect it of ever having heard +that to a philosopher like Voltaire it was, without his seeing +it, one of the most beautiful cities in the universe, that a +matter-of-fact traveller like William Cobbett thought it a +fine city from the minute he knew it, that all the old travel-writers +had a compliment for it, and all the new travellers +as well, down to Li Hung Chang, who described it felicitously +as "one of the most smiling of cities"—the "Place +of a Million Smiles." It was not because it had ceased to +be beautiful that it assumed this indifference. As I recall +it in my youth, it was beautiful with the beauty Philadelphians +searched Europe for, while they were busy destroying +it at home—the beauty that life in England has helped +me to appreciate as I never did before, for it has given me +a standard I had not when I knew only Philadelphia.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_514" id="Page_514">[Pg 514]</a></span></p> + +<p>Judged by this standard, I found Philadelphia in its +old parts more beautiful than I remembered it. In a street +like Clinton, which has escaped the wholesale destruction, +or in a block here and there in other streets less +fortunate, I felt as I never had before the austere loveliness +of their red brick and white marble and pleasant +green shade. As never before I +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realize</ins>d +the Eighteenth-Century +perfection of the old State House and Carpenter's +Hall. I know of no English building of the same date +that has the dignity, the harmonious proportions, the restrained +ornament of the State House,—none with so +noble a background of stately rooms for those stately +figures who were the makers of history in Philadelphia. +And the old churches came as a new revelation. I questioned +if I ever could have thought an English Cathedral +in its close lovelier than red brick St. Peter's in its walled +graveyard on a spring day, with the green in its first +freshness and the great wide-spreading trees throwing +soft shadows over the grassy spaces and the grey crumbling +gravestones. The pleasure it gave me positively hurt +when—after walking in the filth of Front Street, where +the old houses are going to rack and ruin and where a Jew +in his praying shawl at the door of a small, shabby synagogue +seemed the explanation of the filth—I came upon +the little green garden of a graveyard round the Old +Swedes' Church, sweet and still and fragrant in the May +sunshine, though the windows of a factory looked down +upon it to one side, and out in front, on the railroad tracks,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_517" id="Page_517">[Pg 517]</a></span> +huge heavy freight cars rattled and rumbled and shrieked +by, and beyond them rose the steam stacks of steamers +from Antwerp and Liverpool that unload at its door the +hordes of aliens who not only degrade, but "impoverish" +Philadelphia, as the Irish porter in my hotel said to me. +And what pleasure again, after the walk full of memories +along Front and Second Streets, with the familiar odours +and Philadelphia here quiet as of yore, to come upon +Christ Church a part of the street like any French Cathedral +and not in its own little green, but with a greater +architectural pretension to make up for it, and with a +gravestone near the sanctuary to testify that John Penn, +one at least of the Penn family, lies buried in Philadelphia. +And what greater pleasure in the old Meeting Houses—why +had I not known, in youth as in age, their tranquil +loveliness?—What repose there, down Arch Street, in that +small simple brick building, with its small simple green, +one bed of tulips at the door, shut off from the noise and +confusion and dirt and double trolley lines of Arch Street +by the old high brick wall; and no less in that equally small +and simple brick building in South Twelfth Street, an old +oasis, or resting place, in a new wilderness of sky-scrapers. +With these churches and meeting-houses standing, can +Philadelphians deplore the ugliness of their town?</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 304px;"> +<img src="images/gs101.jpg" width="304" height="400" alt="TWELFTH STREET MEETING HOUSE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">TWELFTH STREET MEETING HOUSE</span> +</div> + +<p>And the old Eighteenth-Century houses? Would I +find them as beautiful? I asked myself. Would they survive +as triumphantly the test of my travelled years and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_518" id="Page_518">[Pg 518]</a></span> +more observant eyes? How foolish the question, how unnecessary +the doubt! More beautiful all of them, because +my eyes were better trained to appreciate their architectural +merit; more peaceful all of them, with the feeling +of peace so intense I wondered whether it came of the +Colonial architecture or of associations with it.</p> + +<p>Germantown may be built up beyond recognition, its +Lanes, many of them, turned into Streets for no reason +the average man can see, but some of the big old estates, +are still green and untouched as if miles away, and +the old houses are more guarded than ever from change. +One by one, I returned to them:—Stenton restored, but as +yet so judicially that Logan would to-day feel at home in +its halls and rooms, on its stairway, outside by the dovecote +and the wistaria-covered walls,—at home in the garden +full of tulips and daisies, and old familiar Philadelphia +roses and Johnny-jump-ups, enclosed by hedges, every +care taken to plant in it afresh just the blossoms he loved. +But what would he have said to the factories opposite? To +the rows of little two-story houses creeping nearer and +nearer? And the Chew House—could the veterans of the +Revolution return to it, as the veterans of the Civil War +return every year to Gettysburg, how well they would +know their way in the garden, how well, in the wide-pillared +hall with the old portraits on the white wall, and +in the rooms with their Eighteenth-Century panelling and +cornices and fire-places, and in the broad hall upstairs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_521" id="Page_521">[Pg 521]</a></span> +could they follow the movements of the enemy that lost for +them the Battle of Germantown? And Wyck white, +cloistered, vine-laden, with fragrant garden and shade-giving +trees! And the Johnson House, and the Wistar +House, and the Morris House. And how many other old +houses beyond Germantown! Solitude, and Laurel Hill, +and Arnold's Mansion in the Park, Bartram's at Gray's +Ferry.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs102.jpg" width="400" height="310" alt="WYCK" title="" /> +<span class="caption">WYCK</span> +</div> + +<p>I thought first I would not put Bartram's to the test, +no matter how bravely the others came out of it—Bartram's, +associated with the romance of work and the dawn +of my new life. But how glad I am that I thought twice +and went back to it! For I found it beautiful as ever, +though I could reach it by trolley, and though it was unrecognizably +spick and span in the little orchard, and +under the labelled trees, and by the old house and the old +stables, and in the garden where gardeners were at work +among the red roses. But the disorder has not been quite +done away with in the wilderness below the garden, and +there was the bench by the river, and there the outlook up +and down—had so many chimneys belched forth smoke +and had the smoke been as black on the opposite bank, up +the river, in the old days? Certainly there had not been so +many ghosts—not one of those that now looked at me with +reproachful eyes, asking me what I had done with the +years, for which such ambitious plans had been made on +that very spot ages and ages ago?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_522" id="Page_522">[Pg 522]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>Philadelphia is not responsible for the ghosts; they are +my affair; but it has made itself responsible for the beauty, +not only at Bartram's but at as many other of the old +places as it has been able to lay claims upon, converting +them into what the French would call historic monuments. +And Philadelphia, with the help of Colonial Dames, and +an Automobile Club, and those societies and individuals +who have <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +at last to love the Philadelphia monuments +though still indifferent to the town, has not been too +soon in prescribing the desperate remedies their desperate +case demands. In the new care of these old places, as well +as in the new devotion to the old names and the old +families, in the new keenness for historic meetings and +commemorations, in the new local lectures on local subjects +and traditions, in the very recent restoration of Congress +Hall, in all this new native civic patriotism I seemed +to see Philadelphia's desperate, if unconscious, struggle +against the modern invader of the town's ancient beauty +and traditions. The grown-up aliens who can be persuaded, +as I am told they can be, to come and listen to +papers on their own section of the town, whether it be +Southwark, or Manayunk, or Frankford, or Society Hill, +or the Northern Liberties, will probably in the end look +up the old places and their history for themselves, just +as the little aliens will who, in the schools, are given prizes +for essays on local history:—offer anything, even a school<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_525" id="Page_525">[Pg 525]</a></span> +prize, to a Russian Jew, and he will labour for it, in this +case working indirectly for patriotism.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 310px;"> +<img src="images/gs103.jpg" width="310" height="400" alt="THE MASSED SKY-SCRAPERS ABOVE THE HOUSETOPS" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE MASSED SKY-SCRAPERS ABOVE THE HOUSETOPS</span> +</div> + +<p>But I am not sure that the greatest good the Society +of Colonial Dames is doing is not in emphasizing the value +of the past to those who date back to it. It has helped +one group of Philadelphians to +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realize</ins> +that there are other +people in their town no less old as Philadelphians and +more important in the history of Philadelphia, what is +called society luckily not having taken possession of the +Colonial Dames in Philadelphia as in New York. If all +who date back see in the age of their families their passport +into the aristocracy of Philadelphia and therefore +of America, they may join together as a formidable force +against the advance of the formidable alien. Mr. Arnold +Bennett was amused to discover that every Bostonian +came over in the Mayflower, but he does not understand +the necessity for the native to hold on like grim death to +the family tree—pigmy of a tree as it must seem in Europe—if +America is to remain American. My one fear is +lest this zeal, new to me, is being overdone, for I fancy +I see an ill-concealed threat of a new reaction, this time +against it. What else does the Philadelphian's toying with +the cause of the "loyalists" during the Revolution and +his belated espousal of it mean, unless perhaps the childish +Anglomania which fashion has imposed upon Philadelphia? +People are capable of anything for the sake of +fashion. The ugliest blot on the history of Philadelphia +is its running after the British when they were in possession<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_526" id="Page_526">[Pg 526]</a></span> +of the town that winter we ought to try to forget +instead of commemorating its feasts—that winter when +Philadelphia danced and Washington and his troops +starved. Now Philadelphia threatens another blot as ugly +by upholding the citizens who would have kept the +British there altogether. However, this is as yet only +a threat, Philadelphians are too preoccupied in their +struggle for survival.</p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>Not only the new patriotism, but the new architecture +is Colonial. For long after Colonial days Philadelphia +kept to red brick and white facings in town, to grey stone +and white porches in Germantown, often losing the old +dignity and fine proportions, but preserving the unity, the +harmony of Penn's original scheme, and the repose that is +the inevitable result of unity. But there were many terrible +breaks before and during my time—breaks that gave +us the Public Buildings and Memorial Hall and many of +the big banks and insurance offices down town, and a long +list of regrettable mistakes;—breaks that burdened us +with the brown stone period fortunately never much in +favour, and the Furness period which I could wish had +been less in favour so much too lavish was its gift of undesirable +originality, and the awful green stone period of +which a church here and a big mansion there and substantial +buildings out at the University, too substantial to +be pulled down for many a day, rise, a solid reproach to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_529" id="Page_529">[Pg 529]</a></span> +us for our far straying from righteousness; breaks that +courted and won the admiration of Philadelphia for imitations +of any and every style that wasn't American, especially +if it was English, Philadelphia tremendously +pleased with itself for the bits borrowed from the English +Universities and dumped down in its own University and +out at Bryn Mawr, there as unmistakable aliens as our +own Rhodes Scholars are at Oxford.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs104.jpg" width="400" height="301" alt="SUNSET. PHILADELPHIA FROM ACROSS THE DELAWARE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">SUNSET. PHILADELPHIA FROM ACROSS THE DELAWARE</span> +</div> + +<p>But from the moment Philadelphia began to look up +its genealogy and respect it, the revival of Colonial was +bound, sooner or later, to follow. It meant a change from +which I could not escape, had I deliberately refused to see +the many others. I was face to face with it at every step +I took, in every direction I went—from the Navy Yard on +League Island to the far end of North Broad Street; from +Germantown, the old grey stone here returned to its own +again, to West Philadelphia; from the University where +the Law School building looks grave and distinguished +and genuine in the midst of sham Tudor and sham I hardly +know what, and deplorable green stone, to the Racquets +Club in town; from the tallest sky-scraper to the smallest +workman's dwelling—it was Colonial of one sort or another: +sometimes with line results, at others with Colonial +red brick and white facings and Colonial gables and +Colonial columns and Colonial porches so abused that, +after passing certain Colonial abortions repeated by the +dozens, the hundreds, the thousands, in rows upon rows +of two-story houses, all alike to the very pattern of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_530" id="Page_530">[Pg 530]</a></span> +awning and the curves of the rocking chair on the invariable +porch. I had it in my heart to wish that Philadelphia +had never heard the word Colonial. However, +on the whole, more good has been done than harm. The +original model is a fine one, it belongs to Philadelphia, +and in reviving it the Philadelphia architect is working +along legitimate lines.</p> + +<p>But even as I write this, I +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'realise' and 'realize' were used in this text. This was retained.">realise</ins> +that it is not to +the revival of Colonial that Philadelphia owes all its new +beauty. Indeed, the architecture that has done most for it +in its new phase is that from which least would be expected +by those who believe in appropriateness or utility as indispensable +to architectural beauty. A town that has +plenty of space to spread out indefinitely has no reason +whatever to spread up in sky-scrapers, and this is precisely +what Philadelphia has done and, moreover, looks all +the better for having done. Its sky-scrapers compose +themselves with marvellous effectiveness as a centre to +the town, though they threaten by degrees to become too +scattered to preserve the present composition; they provide +an astounding and ever-varying arrangement of +towers and spires from neighbouring corners and crossings; +they give new interest as a background to some +simple bit of old Philadelphia, as where Wanamaker's +rises sheer and high above the little red brick meeting-house +in Twelfth Street; they add to the charm of some +ambitious bit of new Philadelphia as where the little +Girard Trust Building—itself a happy return to standards<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_533" id="Page_533">[Pg 533]</a></span> +that gave us Girard College and the Mint and Fairmount +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: 'Waterworks,' 'Water Works,' and 'Water-Works' were used in this text. This was retained.">Water-Works</ins>—stands +low among the clustered +towers, just as many a town in the Alps or Apennines +lies low in the cup of the hills, and is the lovelier for +it; they redeem from ugliness buildings of later periods, +as where they give the scale in the most surprising fashion +to the Union League; from far up or down the long +straight line of Broad Street they complete the perspective +as impressively as the Arc de Triomphe completes that +other impressive perspective from the Garden of the +Tuileries in Paris. They are as beautiful when you see +them from the bridges or from the Park, a great group +of towers high above the houses, high above the lesser +towers and spires, high above the curls and wisps of smoke +that now hang over Philadelphia; and from the near +country they give to the low-lying town a sky-line that +for loveliness and grandeur is not to be surpassed by the +famous first view of Pisa across the Italian plain.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 308px;"> +<img src="images/gs105.jpg" width="308" height="400" alt="THE UNION LEAGUE BETWEEN THE SKY-SCRAPERS" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE UNION LEAGUE BETWEEN THE SKY-SCRAPERS</span> +</div> + +<p>Philadelphia is, in truth, such a beautiful town that I +am surprised the world should be so slow in finding it out. +The danger to it now is the Philadelphian's determination +to thrust beauty upon it at any cost, not knowing that it +is beautiful already. There is too much talk everywhere +about town-planning as a reform, as a part of the whole +tiresome business of elevating the masses. As I have said, +Penn talked no nonsense of that kind, nor did Sir Christopher +Wren when he made the fine design that London +had not the sense to stick to, nor L'Enfant when he laid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_534" id="Page_534">[Pg 534]</a></span> +out Washington. For the town that gets into the clutches +of the reformer, I feel much as Whistler did for art—"What +a sad state the slut is in an these gentlemen can +help her." A town, like a woman, should cultivate good +looks and cannot be too fastidious in every detail. But +that is no reason why it should confuse this decent personal +care with a moral mission. There is too much reform in +Philadelphia just now for my taste, or its good. The +idea of the new Parkway; with fine buildings like the new +Free Library and the new Franklin Institute, along its +route through the town; with the City Hall at one end and +the fine new Art Gallery in the Park at the other; promises +well, and I suppose that eventually the silly little wooden +pergolas will disappear and the new buildings go up in +their place. But though I know it sounds like shocking +heresy, I should feel more confidence if its completion +were in the hands of the old corrupt government we never +tired of condemning, which may have stolen some of +our money but at least gave us in return a splendidly +planned and thoroughly well-kept Park, one of the most +beautiful in the world. I believe that not only this monumental, +but more domestic experiments are in view, the +workman this time to profit—our old self-reliant American +workman to have a taste of the benevolent interference that +has taken the backbone out of the English workman. +Rumours have reached me of emissaries sent to spy out +the land in the Garden Cities of Germany and England. +But what have we, in our far-famed City of Homes, to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_537" id="Page_537">[Pg 537]</a></span> +learn from other people's Garden Cities? For comfort, +is the workman anywhere better off at a lower rent than +in the old streets of neat little two-story brick houses, or +in the new streets of luxurious little Colonial abortions? +And what does he want with the reformer's gardens when +he lives in the green country town of Philadelphia?</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs106.jpg" width="400" height="312" alt="UP BROAD STREET FROM LEAGUE ISLAND" title="" /> +<span class="caption">UP BROAD STREET FROM LEAGUE ISLAND</span> +</div> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<p>Philadelphia might have lost more of its old architecture +and been less successful with its new, and would still +be beautiful, for as yet it has not ceased to respect Penn's +wish to see it fair and green. It is not so green as it was, +I admit—not so green as in the days of my childhood to +which, in looking back, the spring always means streets +too well lined with trees for my taste, since in every one +those horrid green measuring worms were waiting to fall, +crawling, upon me. There are great stretches in some +streets from which the trees have disappeared, partly because +they do not prosper so well in the now smoke-laden +air; partly because every one blown down or injured must +be replaced if replaced at all by some thrifty citizen held +responsible for whatever damage it may do through no +fault of his; partly, I believe, because at one time street +commissioners ordered one or two in front of a house to +be cut down, charged the landlord for doing it, and found +too much profit not to persevere in their disastrous policy. +Still, though Philadelphians in summer fly to little European +towns to escape the streets they deplore as arid in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_538" id="Page_538">[Pg 538]</a></span> +Philadelphia, I know of no other town as large that is as +green. The notes I made in Philadelphia are full of my +surprise that I should have forgotten how green and shady +are its streets, how tender is this green in its first spring +growth under the high luminous sky, how lovely the +wistaria-draped walls in town and the dogwood in the +suburbs. Walk or drive in whatever direction I chose, +and at every crossing I looked up or down a long green +vista, so that I understood the Philadelphia business man +who described to me his daily walk from his Spruce Street +house to the Reading Terminal as a lesson in botany. +On the other side of the Schuylkill, in any of the suburbs, +every street became a leafy avenue. There were evenings +in that last June I spent in Philadelphia, when, +the ugly houses bathed in golden light and the trees one +long golden-green screen in front of them, I would not +have exchanged Walnut or Spruce Street in West Philadelphia +or many a Lane in Germantown, for any famous +road or boulevard the world over. Really, the trees convert +the whole town into an annex, an approach to that +Park which is its chief green beauty and which, to me, +was more than sufficient atonement for the corrupt government +Philadelphia is said to have groaned under all the +years Fairmount was growing in grace and beauty. And +beyond the Park, beyond the suburbs, the leafy avenues +run on for miles through as beautiful country as ever shut +in a beautiful town.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs107.jpg" width="400" height="311" alt="FROM GRAY'S FERRY" title="" /> +<span class="caption">FROM GRAY'S FERRY</span> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_541" id="Page_541">[Pg 541]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>VI</h3> + +<p>After all, there is beauty enough left to last my time, +and I suppose with that I should be content. But I cannot +help thinking of the future, cannot help wondering, +now that I see the change the last quarter of a century +has made, what the next will do for Philadelphia—whether +after twenty-five years more a vestige of my Philadelphia +will survive. I do not believe it will; I may be wrong, +but I am giving my impressions for what they are worth, +and nothing on my return impressed me so much as the +change everywhere and in everything. I think any American, +from no matter what part of the country, who has been +away so long, must, on going back, be impressed in the +same way—must feel with me that America is growing +day by day into something as different as possible from +his America. For my part, I am just as glad I shall not +live to see the Philadelphia that is to emerge from the +present chaos, since I have not the shadow of a doubt that, +whatever it may be, it will be as unlike Philadelphia as I +have just <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'learnt' and 'learned' were used in this text. This was retained.">learned</ins> +to know it again, as this new Philadelphia +is unlike my old Philadelphia, the beautiful, peaceful +town where roses bloomed in the sunny back-yards and +people lived in dignity behind the plain red brick fronts of +the long narrow streets.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_543" id="Page_543">[Pg 543]</a></span></p> +<h2>INDEX</h2> + + +<div> +Abbey, Edwin A., <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +Academy of Fine Arts, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_231">231</a>, <a href="#Page_376">376</a>, <a href="#Page_379">379</a>, <a href="#Page_380">380</a>, <a href="#Page_389">389</a>, <a href="#Page_395">395</a>, <a href="#Page_402">402</a>, <a href="#Page_405">405</a>, <a href="#Page_407">407</a>, <a href="#Page_412">412</a>, <a href="#Page_428">428</a><br /> +<br /> +Academy of Music, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_459">459</a><br /> +<br /> +Academy of Natural Sciences, <a href="#Page_64">64</a><br /> +<br /> +Acorn Club, <a href="#Page_494">494</a><br /> +<br /> +Adams, John, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_385">385</a>, <a href="#Page_418">418</a>-<a href="#Page_422">422</a><br /> +<br /> +Addams, Clifford, <a href="#Page_407">407</a><br /> +<br /> +Adelphia, the, <a href="#Page_499">499</a><br /> +<br /> +Adirondacks (mountains), <a href="#Page_169">169</a><br /> +<br /> +Aitken, Robert, <a href="#Page_310">310</a><br /> +<br /> +Aldrich, Thomas Bailey, <a href="#Page_243">243</a><br /> +<br /> +Alexander, John W., <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Alhambra, The</i>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a><br /> +<br /> +Alicia, Mother, <a href="#Page_371">371</a><br /> +<br /> +Allen's, <a href="#Page_125">125</a><br /> +<br /> +America, new and old, <a href="#Page_471">471</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>American</i>, the (weekly), <a href="#Page_249">249</a><br /> +<br /> +American Army crossing the Delaware, <a href="#Page_375">375</a><br /> +<br /> +American Philosophical Society, <a href="#Page_418">418</a><br /> +<br /> +Angelo, Michael, <a href="#Page_373">373</a><br /> +<br /> +Annabel, Miss, school, <a href="#Page_258">258</a><br /> +<br /> +Annals, Watson's, <a href="#Page_314">314</a><br /> +<br /> +Antin, Mary, <a href="#Page_467">467</a><br /> +<br /> +Appian etchings, <a href="#Page_395">395</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Arabian Nights, The</i>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a><br /> +<br /> +Arc de Triomphe, <a href="#Page_405">405</a><br /> +<br /> +Arch Street Meeting House, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_517">517</a><br /> +<br /> +Arch Street Theatre, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_459">459</a><br /> +<br /> +Ardea, Father, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a><br /> +<br /> +Arnold, Matthew, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>-<a href="#Page_344">344</a><br /> +<br /> +Arnold's Mansion, <a href="#Page_521">521</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Arrah-na-Pogue</i>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a><br /> +<br /> +Art Gallery in the Park, proposed, <a href="#Page_534">534</a><br /> +<br /> +Art (Industrial) School, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>, <a href="#Page_405">405</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Art Nouveau</i>, <a href="#Page_408">408</a><br /> +<br /> +Assembly, the (social), <a href="#Page_153">153</a>-<a href="#Page_174">174</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>, <a href="#Page_260">260</a>, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>, <a href="#Page_503">503</a><br /> +<br /> +Atlantic City, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_298">298</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Atlantic Monthly</i>, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a><br /> +<br /> +Augustine's, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>, <a href="#Page_438">438</a>, <a href="#Page_439">439</a>, <a href="#Page_449">449</a><br /> +<br /> +Bailey, Banks & Biddle, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_456">456</a><br /> +<br /> +Bala Country Club, <a href="#Page_493">493</a>, <a href="#Page_495">495</a><br /> +<br /> +Baldwin's Locomotive Works, <a href="#Page_228">228</a>, <a href="#Page_477">477</a><br /> +<br /> +Bank, Philadelphia, <a href="#Page_49">49</a><br /> +<br /> +Baptists, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a><br /> +<br /> +Bar Harbor, <a href="#Page_169">169</a><br /> +<br /> +Barber, Alice, <a href="#Page_396">396</a><br /> +<br /> +Barcelona (churches of), <a href="#Page_199">199</a><br /> +<br /> +Barrett, Lawrence, <a href="#Page_324">324</a><br /> +<br /> +Barrie (publisher of art books), <a href="#Page_376">376</a><br /> +<br /> +Bartram, John, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>, <a href="#Page_521">521</a><br /> +<br /> +Bartram's Garden, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>-<a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>, <a href="#Page_521">521</a>, <a href="#Page_522">522</a><br /> +<br /> +Bayswater, England, <a href="#Page_493">493</a><br /> +<br /> +Beau Nash, <a href="#Page_145">145</a><br /> +<br /> +Beaux, Cecilia, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Beaux-Arts (school), <a href="#Page_407">407</a><br /> +<br /> +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Beidelman'">Beidleman</ins> (architecture), <a href="#Page_361">361</a><br /> +<br /> +Bellamy (<i>Looking Backward</i>), <a href="#Page_338">338</a><br /> +<br /> +Bellevue-Stratford (hotel), <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>, <a href="#Page_414">414</a>, <a href="#Page_447">447</a>, <a href="#Page_500">500</a>, <a href="#Page_503">503</a><br /> +<br /> +Belmont (Fairmount Park), <a href="#Page_210">210</a>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_430">430</a>, <a href="#Page_496">496</a><br /> +<br /> +Bennett, Arnold, <a href="#Page_478">478</a>, <a href="#Page_486">486</a>, <a href="#Page_525">525</a><br /> +<br /> +Bibliothèque Nationale, <a href="#Page_12">12</a><br /> +<br /> +Biddle, Miss Julia, <a href="#Page_399">399</a><br /> +<br /> +Biddles, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>-<a href="#Page_216">216</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Biglow Papers</i>, <a href="#Page_320">320</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Black Crook, The</i>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a><br /> +<br /> +Blanchard (publisher), <a href="#Page_313">313</a><br /> +<br /> +Blitz, Signor, <a href="#Page_91">91</a><br /> +<br /> +Blum, Robert, artist, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +Board of Education, <a href="#Page_257">257</a><br /> +<br /> +Bobbelin, Father, <a href="#Page_192">192</a><br /> +<br /> +Boker, George H., <a href="#Page_316">316</a>, <a href="#Page_323">323</a>-<a href="#Page_325">325</a><br /> +<br /> +Booth, Edwin, <a href="#Page_68">68</a><br /> +<br /> +Borghesi collection (art), <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Borie, C. L. Jr., architect, <a href="#Page_407">407</a><br /> +<br /> +Bories, the, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a><br /> +<br /> +Borrow, George Henry, <a href="#Page_320">320</a><br /> +<br /> +Boswell, James, <a href="#Page_290">290</a><br /> +<br /> +Boudreau, Father, <a href="#Page_193">193</a><br /> +<br /> +Boudreau, Mother, <a href="#Page_97">97</a><br /> +<br /> +Bowie, Mrs., social leader, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>, <a href="#Page_147">147</a><br /> +<br /> +Boyle, John, sculptor, <a href="#Page_396">396</a><br /> +<br /> +Bradstreet, Anne, <a href="#Page_309">309</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Breitmann Ballads</i>, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>, <a href="#Page_456">456</a><br /> +<br /> +Brennan, artist, <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +Brewster, Benjamin Harris, <a href="#Page_342">342</a><br /> +<br /> +Briggs, Richard, <a href="#Page_424">424</a><br /> +<br /> +Brillat-Savarin, <a href="#Page_414">414</a><br /> +<br /> +British Museum, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_309">309</a><br /> +<br /> +Broad and Locust Streets, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_259">259</a>, <a href="#Page_449">449</a><br /> +<br /> +Broad and Walnut, <a href="#Page_42">42</a><br /> +<br /> +Broad Street, <a href="#Page_324">324</a>, <a href="#Page_449">449</a>, <a href="#Page_489">489</a>, <a href="#Page_499">499</a>-<a href="#Page_503">503</a>, <a href="#Page_529">529</a>, <a href="#Page_533">533</a><br /> +<br /> +Broad Street, North, <a href="#Page_459">459</a>, <a href="#Page_529">529</a><br /> +<br /> +Broad Street Station, <a href="#Page_12">12</a><br /> +<br /> +Brook Farm, <a href="#Page_347">347</a><br /> +<br /> +Brown, Charles Brockden, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>, <a href="#Page_363">363</a><br /> +<br /> +Browning Societies, <a href="#Page_352">352</a><br /> +<br /> +Bryn Mawr, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_364">364</a>, <a href="#Page_529">529</a><br /> +<br /> +Bullitts, the, <a href="#Page_107">107</a><br /> +<br /> +Bunyan, John, <a href="#Page_308">308</a><br /> +<br /> +Burns's, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>, <a href="#Page_456">456</a><br /> +<br /> +Burr, Anna Robeson, <a href="#Page_363">363</a><br /> +<br /> +Burr, Charles, <a href="#Page_363">363</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Burton's Gentleman's Magazine</i>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a><br /> +<br /> +Business and Professional Club, <a href="#Page_352">352</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Cadwallader-Biddle, <a href="#Page_343">343</a><br /> +<br /> +Cadwalladers, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a><br /> +<br /> +Caldwell, J. E. & Co., <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_456">456</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Callista</i>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a><br /> +<br /> +Callowhill, Hannah, <a href="#Page_417">417</a><br /> +<br /> +Callowhill Street Bridge, <a href="#Page_281">281</a><br /> +<br /> +Camac Street, <a href="#Page_351">351</a><br /> +<br /> +Camden (N. J.), <a href="#Page_293">293</a>, <a href="#Page_324">324</a>-<a href="#Page_329">329</a><br /> +<br /> +Campanini, opera singer, <a href="#Page_401">401</a><br /> +<br /> +Campbell, Helen, <a href="#Page_338">338</a><br /> +<br /> +Cape May, <a href="#Page_170">170</a><br /> +<br /> +Carlyle, Thomas, <a href="#Page_243">243</a><br /> +<br /> +Carpenter's Hall, <a href="#Page_514">514</a><br /> +<br /> +Carson, Hampton L., <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_363">363</a><br /> +<br /> +Cary (publisher), <a href="#Page_313">313</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Casket, The</i>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>, <a href="#Page_428">428</a><br /> +<br /> +Cassatt, Mary, <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +Castleman, Richard, <a href="#Page_6">6</a><br /> +<br /> +Cathedral, the, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a><br /> +<br /> +Catholics, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>-<a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a><br /> +<br /> +Cavalcaselle, Giovanni B., <a href="#Page_402">402</a><br /> +<br /> +Centennial Exposition, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>-<a href="#Page_232">232</a>, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>, <a href="#Page_276">276</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>, <a href="#Page_390">390</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Century, The</i>, <a href="#Page_337">337</a><br /> +<br /> +Champs-Elysées, <a href="#Page_405">405</a><br /> +<br /> +Chapman, Miss, school, <a href="#Page_258">258</a><br /> +<br /> +Charles the Bold, <a href="#Page_337">337</a><br /> +<br /> +Chartres Cathedral, <a href="#Page_199">199</a><br /> +<br /> +Chartreuse, the old, <a href="#Page_444">444</a><br /> +<br /> +Chase, William M., <a href="#Page_246">246</a><br /> +<br /> +Chester, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a><br /> +<br /> +Chestnut Hill, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a><br /> +<br /> +Chestnut Street, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>, <a href="#Page_325">325</a>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>, <a href="#Page_368">368</a>, <a href="#Page_449">449</a>, <a href="#Page_456">456</a>, <a href="#Page_459">459</a>, <a href="#Page_499">499</a><br /> +<br /> +Chestnut Street Theatre, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_459">459</a><br /> +<br /> +"Chestnut, Walnut, Spruce, and Pine," <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_464">464</a><br /> +<br /> +Chew House, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>, <a href="#Page_518">518</a><br /> +<br /> +Childs, George W., <a href="#Page_113">113</a>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>, <a href="#Page_499">499</a><br /> +<br /> +Chippendale furniture, <a href="#Page_289">289</a><br /> +<br /> +Christ Church, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>, <a href="#Page_517">517</a><br /> +<br /> +Christ Church Burial Ground, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a><br /> +<br /> +Church (painting), <a href="#Page_246">246</a><br /> +<br /> +Church of England, <a href="#Page_183">183</a><br /> +<br /> +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Cimabué'">Cimabue</ins>, Giovanni, <a href="#Page_402">402</a><br /> +<br /> +City Companies in London, <a href="#Page_152">152</a><br /> +<br /> +City Hall, <a href="#Page_259">259</a>, <a href="#Page_260">260</a>, <a href="#Page_405">405</a>, <a href="#Page_489">489</a>, <a href="#Page_526">526</a>, <a href="#Page_534">534</a><br /> +<br /> +City of Homes, <a href="#Page_481">481</a>, <a href="#Page_534">534</a><br /> +<br /> +City Troop, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_452">452</a>, <a href="#Page_510">510</a><br /> +<br /> +Civic Club, <a href="#Page_494">494</a><br /> +<br /> +Civil War, the, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>, <a href="#Page_518">518</a><br /> +<br /> +Claghorn's collection of old prints, <a href="#Page_376">376</a>, <a href="#Page_394">394</a><br /> +<br /> +Clements, Gabrielle, <a href="#Page_396">396</a><br /> +<br /> +Clinton Street, <a href="#Page_514">514</a><br /> +<br /> +Clover Club, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_443">443</a><br /> +<br /> +Club (Art), South Broad Street, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Coates, Mrs. Florence Earle, <a href="#Page_336">336</a>, <a href="#Page_362">362</a><br /> +<br /> +Cobbett, William, <a href="#Page_440">440</a>, <a href="#Page_485">485</a>, <a href="#Page_513">513</a><br /> +<br /> +Coghlan, Father, <a href="#Page_193">193</a><br /> +<br /> +Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, <a href="#Page_324">324</a><br /> +<br /> +College Club, the, <a href="#Page_494">494</a><br /> +<br /> +Colonial (American) art, <a href="#Page_381">381</a>, <a href="#Page_389">389</a><br /> +<br /> +Colonial Congress, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>, <a href="#Page_267">267</a><br /> +<br /> +Colonial Dames, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>, <a href="#Page_361">361</a>, <a href="#Page_522">522</a>, <a href="#Page_525">525</a><br /> +<br /> +Colonial days, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>, <a href="#Page_526">526</a><br /> +<br /> +Colonial doorways, <a href="#Page_361">361</a><br /> +<br /> +Colonial history, <a href="#Page_9">9</a><br /> +<br /> +Colonial houses, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>, <a href="#Page_382">382</a>, <a href="#Page_443">443</a>, <a href="#Page_460">460</a>, <a href="#Page_496">496</a>, <a href="#Page_518">518</a>, <a href="#Page_526">526</a>, <a href="#Page_529">529</a><br /> +<br /> +Colonial life and society, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_443">443</a><br /> +<br /> +Colonists, <a href="#Page_495">495</a><br /> +<br /> +Colonnade (hotel), <a href="#Page_148">148</a><br /> +<br /> +Columbia (College), <a href="#Page_364">364</a><br /> +<br /> +Comegys, Mrs., school, <a href="#Page_258">258</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Complete Cookery</i> (Miss Leslie), <a href="#Page_423">423</a>-<a href="#Page_430">430</a><br /> +<br /> +Concord (Mass.), <a href="#Page_347">347</a>-<a href="#Page_348">348</a><br /> +<br /> +Coney Island, <a href="#Page_213">213</a><br /> +<br /> +Conflans (convent), <a href="#Page_175">175</a><br /> +<br /> +Congress Hall, <a href="#Page_522">522</a><br /> +<br /> +Connor, Mrs., social leader, <a href="#Page_147">147</a><br /> +<br /> +Contemporary Club, <a href="#Page_352">352</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Continent, Our</i>, <a href="#Page_293">293</a><br /> +<br /> +Continental (hotel), <a href="#Page_148">148</a><br /> +<br /> +Convent, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a> sq., <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>-<a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a> sq., <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_368">368</a>, <a href="#Page_372">372</a>, <a href="#Page_373">373</a>, <a href="#Page_374">374</a>, <a href="#Page_451">451</a><br /> +<br /> +Convent at Paris, <a href="#Page_222">222</a><br /> +<br /> +Cooper, Colin Campbell, <a href="#Page_396">396</a><br /> +<br /> +Cope, Walter, architect, <a href="#Page_407">407</a><br /> +<br /> +Copley, John Singleton, <a href="#Page_389">389</a><br /> +<br /> +Country Clubs, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>, <a href="#Page_447">447</a>, <a href="#Page_494">494</a>-<a href="#Page_496">496</a><br /> +<br /> +Courts (of law), <a href="#Page_468">468</a>, <a href="#Page_500">500</a><br /> +<br /> +Cox, Kenyon (painting), <a href="#Page_246">246</a><br /> +<br /> +Cramp's shipyard, <a href="#Page_228">228</a>, <a href="#Page_477">477</a><br /> +<br /> +"Crazy Norah," <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a><br /> +<br /> +Crowe, Joseph Archer, <a href="#Page_402">402</a><br /> +<br /> +Cruikshank drawings, <a href="#Page_375">375</a><br /> +<br /> +Curtis Publishing Co. Building, <a href="#Page_355">355</a><br /> +<br /> +Cushman, Charlotte, <a href="#Page_68">68</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Dana, William P. W., artist, <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +Dancing Class, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>-<a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>, <a href="#Page_260">260</a>, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>, <a href="#Page_503">503</a><br /> +<br /> +Darlington butter, <a href="#Page_440">440</a><br /> +<br /> +Darlington, J. G. & Co., <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_456">456</a><br /> +<br /> +Darwin, Charles, <a href="#Page_242">242</a><br /> +<br /> +Daughters of Pennsylvania, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a><br /> +<br /> +Davenports, the (actors), <a href="#Page_64">64</a><br /> +<br /> +Davis, Clarke, <a href="#Page_246">246</a><br /> +<br /> +Davis, Mrs. Rebecca Harding, <a href="#Page_336">336</a><br /> +<br /> +Davis, Richard Harding, <a href="#Page_336">336</a><br /> +<br /> +Day, Frank Miles, architect, <a href="#Page_407">407</a><br /> +<br /> +Declaration of Independence, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>, <a href="#Page_418">418</a><br /> +<br /> +Decorative Art Club, <a href="#Page_399">399</a><br /> +<br /> +Delaware River, <a href="#Page_278">278</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>, <a href="#Page_455">455</a><br /> +<br /> +Dexter's, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_456">456</a><br /> +<br /> +Dickens, Charles, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>, <a href="#Page_427">427</a><br /> +<br /> +Dickinson, Jonathan, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_313">313</a><br /> +<br /> +Dillaye, Blanche, <a href="#Page_396">396</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Domestic Economy</i> (Miss Leslie), <a href="#Page_428">428</a><br /> +<br /> +Drama-Reforming Societies, <a href="#Page_352">352</a><br /> +<br /> +Dreka Co. (engraver), <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <a href="#Page_456">456</a><br /> +<br /> +Drew, Mrs. John (actress), <a href="#Page_68">68</a><br /> +<br /> +Drexel, Anthony J., <a href="#Page_342">342</a><br /> +<br /> +Drexel Institute, <a href="#Page_405">405</a><br /> +<br /> +Duclaux, Mme (Mary Robinson), <a href="#Page_260">260</a><br /> +<br /> +Duke of Westminster's collection (art), <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Dundas house, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_459">459</a><br /> +<br /> +Dutch descent, <a href="#Page_219">219</a><br /> +<br /> +Dutch in New York, <a href="#Page_16">16</a><br /> +<br /> +Dutch Jew, <a href="#Page_467">467</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Earle's, <a href="#Page_125">125</a><br /> +<br /> +Eastern Shore, Maryland, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a><br /> +<br /> +Eberlein, Harold Donaldson, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_361">361</a><br /> +<br /> +Education, Board of, <a href="#Page_257">257</a><br /> +<br /> +Eleventh Street, <a href="#Page_48">48</a><br /> +<br /> +Eleventh and Spruce (streets), <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a> sq., <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>, <a href="#Page_427">427</a>, <a href="#Page_430">430</a><br /> +<br /> +Eliot, George, <a href="#Page_401">401</a><br /> +<br /> +Eliphas, Levi, <a href="#Page_242">242</a><br /> +<br /> +Elkins art collection, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Ellwanger, G. H., <a href="#Page_424">424</a><br /> +<br /> +Elwood, Thomas, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_308">308</a><br /> +<br /> +Episcopal Academy, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_455">455</a><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Head Master of, <a href="#Page_181">181</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Episcopalians, <a href="#Page_176">176</a> 177, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Evening Telegraph</i>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_341">341</a><br /> +<br /> +Ewing, Miss Julia, <a href="#Page_341">341</a><br /> +<br /> +Exposition, Centennial, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_232">232</a><br /> +<br /> +Eyre, Wilson, <a href="#Page_407">407</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>Fabiola</i>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a><br /> +<br /> +Fairmount Park, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_444">444</a>, <a href="#Page_486">486</a>, <a href="#Page_496">496</a>, <a href="#Page_521">521</a>, <a href="#Page_533">533</a>, <a href="#Page_534">534</a>, <a href="#Page_538">538</a><br /> +<br /> +Fairmount <ins title="Transcriber's Note: 'Waterworks,' 'Water Works,' and 'Water-Works' were used in this text. This was retained.">Water-Works</ins>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_533">533</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Faith Gartney's Girlhood</i>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +<br /> +Ferris, Stephen, <a href="#Page_394">394</a><br /> +<br /> +Fildes, Luke, <a href="#Page_231">231</a><br /> +<br /> +Fisher, Sydney George, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a><br /> +<br /> +Fishers, the, <a href="#Page_31">31</a><br /> +<br /> +Fish-House Club, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_443">443</a><br /> +<br /> +Fitzgerald, Edward, <a href="#Page_423">423</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Fool's Errand</i>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Forget-Me-Not</i>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a><br /> +<br /> +Fourth of July, <a href="#Page_63">63</a><br /> +<br /> +Fox, George, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_308">308</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Francesco'">Francesca</ins> da Rimini</i>, <a href="#Page_324">324</a><br /> +<br /> +Frankford, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_489">489</a>, <a href="#Page_522">522</a><br /> +<br /> +Franklin, Benjamin, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_355">355</a>, <a href="#Page_310">310</a>, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a>, <a href="#Page_386">386</a>, <a href="#Page_389">389</a>, <a href="#Page_400">400</a>, <a href="#Page_417">417</a>, <a href="#Page_422">422</a>, <a href="#Page_482">482</a><br /> +<br /> +Franklin Inn, <a href="#Page_351">351</a><br /> +<br /> +Franklin Institute, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>, <a href="#Page_534">534</a><br /> +<br /> +Free Public Library, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_534">534</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>French Revolution</i> (Thiers), <a href="#Page_375">375</a><br /> +<br /> +Friends, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_380">380</a>, <a href="#Page_386">386</a>, <a href="#Page_389">389</a>, <a href="#Page_513">513</a><br /> +<br /> +Friends' School (Germantown), <a href="#Page_258">258</a><br /> +<br /> +Fromuth, marine painter, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Front Street, <a href="#Page_278">278</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_326">326</a>, <a href="#Page_514">514</a>, <a href="#Page_517">517</a><br /> +<br /> +Frost, Arthur B., artist, <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +Furness (architecture), <a href="#Page_407">407</a>, <a href="#Page_526">526</a><br /> +<br /> +Furness, Dr. Horace Howard, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +<br /> +Furness, Horace Howard, Jr., <a href="#Page_362">362</a>, <a href="#Page_363">363</a><br /> +<br /> +Furness, William Henry, D.D., <a href="#Page_332">332</a>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Garber, Daniel, <a href="#Page_407">407</a><br /> +<br /> +Gebbie and Barrie, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_376">376</a><br /> +<br /> +German mystics, <a href="#Page_176">176</a><br /> +<br /> +Germans (immigrants), <a href="#Page_471">471</a><br /> +<br /> +Germantown, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_336">336</a>, <a href="#Page_468">468</a>, <a href="#Page_477">477</a>, <a href="#Page_496">496</a>, <a href="#Page_518">518</a>, <a href="#Page_521">521</a>, <a href="#Page_526">526</a>, <a href="#Page_529">529</a>, <a href="#Page_538">538</a><br /> +<br /> +Germantown Cricket Ground, <a href="#Page_496">496</a><br /> +<br /> +Gettysburg (battle-fields), <a href="#Page_518">518</a><br /> +<br /> +Gibson collection, <a href="#Page_379">379</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Gift, The</i>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a><br /> +<br /> +Gilchrist, Mrs. Alexander, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>, <a href="#Page_287">287</a><br /> +<br /> +Gillespie, Mrs., social leader, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>, <a href="#Page_253">253</a><br /> +<br /> +Giotto di Bondone, <a href="#Page_402">402</a><br /> +<br /> +Girard College, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_379">379</a>, <a href="#Page_533">533</a><br /> +<br /> +Girard House, <a href="#Page_148">148</a><br /> +<br /> +Girard Trust Building, <a href="#Page_530">530</a><br /> +<br /> +Gissing, George, <a href="#Page_239">239</a><br /> +<br /> +Glackens, William J., illustrator, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Glackmeyer, Father, <a href="#Page_193">193</a><br /> +<br /> +Glasse, Mrs. (Cookery Book), <a href="#Page_314">314</a>, <a href="#Page_423">423</a>-<a href="#Page_428">428</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Godey's Lady's Book</i>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>, <a href="#Page_337">337</a><br /> +<br /> +Gough Square (London), <a href="#Page_324">324</a><br /> +<br /> +Grafly, Charles, sculptor, <a href="#Page_407">407</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Graham's</i> (Magazine), <a href="#Page_314">314</a>, <a href="#Page_337">337</a><br /> +<br /> +Grants, the, <a href="#Page_31">31</a><br /> +<br /> +Gray's Ferry, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_521">521</a><br /> +<br /> +Green, Elizabeth Shippen, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Greene, General, <a href="#Page_418">418</a><br /> +<br /> +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Greland'">Grelaud</ins>, Miss, <a href="#Page_107">107</a><br /> +<br /> +Griggs (publisher), <a href="#Page_313">313</a><br /> +<br /> +Groton (school), <a href="#Page_162">162</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Haden, Seymour, etchings, <a href="#Page_395">395</a>, <a href="#Page_396">396</a><br /> +<br /> +Hale, Mrs. Sarah Josepha, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>, <a href="#Page_428">428</a><br /> +<br /> +Hallowell, Mrs. Sarah, <a href="#Page_341">341</a><br /> +<br /> +Hamilton, J. McLure, <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +Handy, Moses P., <a href="#Page_245">245</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Hans Breitmann</i>, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>, <a href="#Page_456">456</a><br /> +<br /> +Harland, Marion, <a href="#Page_428">428</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Harper's</i> (magazine), <a href="#Page_238">238</a>, <a href="#Page_337">337</a><br /> +<br /> +Harrison, Alexander, <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +Harrison, Birge, <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +Harrison, John, <a href="#Page_405">405</a><br /> +<br /> +Harrison, Mrs. (Art Club), <a href="#Page_399">399</a><br /> +<br /> +Harvard (College), <a href="#Page_162">162</a><br /> +<br /> +Hassler's band, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a><br /> +<br /> +Haverford (school), <a href="#Page_258">258</a><br /> +<br /> +Hawthorne, Nathaniel, <a href="#Page_347">347</a><br /> +<br /> +Hawthorne, Rose, <a href="#Page_347">347</a><br /> +<br /> +Historical Society of Pennsylvania, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>, <a href="#Page_364">364</a>, <a href="#Page_459">459</a><br /> +<br /> +Hogarth's engravings, <a href="#Page_376">376</a><br /> +<br /> +Holloway, Edward Stratton, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Holmes, Oliver Wendell, <a href="#Page_243">243</a><br /> +<br /> +Holmesburg, <a href="#Page_258">258</a><br /> +<br /> +Holy Trinity (church), <a href="#Page_183">183</a><br /> +<br /> +Home Arts School (London), <a href="#Page_257">257</a><br /> +<br /> +Homer and Colladay's, <a href="#Page_125">125</a><br /> +<br /> +Hooper, Mrs. Lucy, <a href="#Page_341">341</a><br /> +<br /> +Hopkins, the, <a href="#Page_31">31</a><br /> +<br /> +Hopkins, Dr. (dentist), <a href="#Page_64">64</a><br /> +<br /> +Horticultural Hall, <a href="#Page_347">347</a>, <a href="#Page_503">503</a><br /> +<br /> +Hospital, Pennsylvania, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a>, <a href="#Page_460">460</a><br /> +<br /> +Hotel Meurice, <a href="#Page_222">222</a><br /> +<br /> +Howells, William Dean, <a href="#Page_259">259</a>, <a href="#Page_401">401</a><br /> +<br /> +Howland's Hotel at Long Branch, <a href="#Page_103">103</a><br /> +<br /> +Hubbell's, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_459">459</a><br /> +<br /> +Hudson River School, <a href="#Page_390">390</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Hugh Wynne</i>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a>, <a href="#Page_363">363</a><br /> +<br /> +Hughes and <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Muller'">Müller</ins>, <a href="#Page_456">456</a><br /> +<br /> +Huguet, Madame, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a><br /> +<br /> +Hunt, Holman, <a href="#Page_372">372</a>, <a href="#Page_373">373</a><br /> +<br /> +Huntington Valley Club, <a href="#Page_495">495</a><br /> +<br /> +Hutchinson Ports, <a href="#Page_363">363</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Impressionists (artists), <a href="#Page_390">390</a><br /> +<br /> +Independence Hall, <a href="#Page_467">467</a><br /> +<br /> +Independence Square, <a href="#Page_355">355</a>, <a href="#Page_467">467</a><br /> +<br /> +Industrial Art School, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>, <a href="#Page_396">396</a>, <a href="#Page_399">399</a><br /> +<br /> +Ingersolls, the, <a href="#Page_145">145</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Initials, The</i>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a><br /> +<br /> +International expositions, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_231">231</a>, <a href="#Page_253">253</a><br /> +<br /> +Irish immigrants, <a href="#Page_471">471</a><br /> +<br /> +Irving, Henry, <a href="#Page_401">401</a><br /> +<br /> +Irving, Washington, <a href="#Page_315">315</a><br /> +<br /> +Irwin, Miss, school, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a><br /> +<br /> +Italians (immigrants), <a href="#Page_464">464</a>, <a href="#Page_468">468</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +James, Henry, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_401">401</a>, <a href="#Page_509">509</a><br /> +<br /> +Janauschek (actress), <a href="#Page_348">348</a><br /> +<br /> +Janvier, Thomas Allibone, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>, <a href="#Page_363">363</a>, <a href="#Page_433">433</a>-<a href="#Page_437">437</a>, <a href="#Page_443">443</a><br /> +<br /> +Jastrow, Dr. Morris, <a href="#Page_364">364</a><br /> +<br /> +Jefferson, Thomas, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_386">386</a>, <a href="#Page_418">418</a><br /> +<br /> +Jenkins, Howard, <a href="#Page_249">249</a><br /> +<br /> +Jesuits, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a><br /> +<br /> +Jew, Dutch, <a href="#Page_467">467</a><br /> +<br /> +Jew, Pennsylvania, <a href="#Page_467">467</a>, <a href="#Page_514">514</a><br /> +<br /> +Jew, Russian, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_361">361</a>, <a href="#Page_460">460</a>, <a href="#Page_464">464</a>-<a href="#Page_473">473</a>, <a href="#Page_525">525</a><br /> +<br /> +Jews, religious liberty of, <a href="#Page_177">177</a><br /> +<br /> +Johnson, Dr. Samuel, <a href="#Page_324">324</a><br /> +<br /> +Johnson House, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_521">521</a><br /> +<br /> +Johnson's, John G., art collection, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Jones's, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>, <a href="#Page_444">444</a>, <a href="#Page_456">456</a><br /> +<br /> +Jourdain, M., <a href="#Page_282">282</a><br /> +<br /> +June, Jenny, <a href="#Page_428">428</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>Kate Vincent</i>, <a href="#Page_178">178</a><br /> +<br /> +Keatings, the, <a href="#Page_31">31</a><br /> +<br /> +Kellogg, Clara Louise, <a href="#Page_67">67</a><br /> +<br /> +Kensington, <a href="#Page_228">228</a>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_477">477</a><br /> +<br /> +Kensington, England, <a href="#Page_493">493</a><br /> +<br /> +Keppel, Frederick, <a href="#Page_376">376</a><br /> +<br /> +Kings, the, <a href="#Page_31">31</a><br /> +<br /> +Kirk, John Foster, <a href="#Page_337">337</a><br /> +<br /> +Kirkbride's Insane Asylum, <a href="#Page_263">263</a><br /> +<br /> +Kneller, portrait-painter, <a href="#Page_389">389</a><br /> +<br /> +Knight, Ridgway, <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Kugler'">Kügler</ins>, Franz, <a href="#Page_402">402</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>La Belle Hélène</i>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>La Grande Duchesse</i>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a><br /> +<br /> +La Pierre House, <a href="#Page_148">148</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Ladies' Home Journal</i>, <a href="#Page_355">355</a><br /> +<br /> +Ladies of the Sacred Heart, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_93">93</a><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Convent, <a href="#Page_72">72</a> sq.</span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Lady of Shalott</i>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_373">373</a><br /> +<br /> +Lalanne etchings, <a href="#Page_395">395</a><br /> +<br /> +Lamb, Charles, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_324">324</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Lamplighter, The</i>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a><br /> +<br /> +Long, John Luther, <a href="#Page_363">363</a><br /> +<br /> +Lathrop, Mr. and Mrs. George, <a href="#Page_347">347</a><br /> +<br /> +Latin Quarter, <a href="#Page_411">411</a><br /> +<br /> +Laurel Hill, <a href="#Page_521">521</a><br /> +<br /> +Law Courts, <a href="#Page_468">468</a>, <a href="#Page_500">500</a><br /> +<br /> +Law School, building, <a href="#Page_529">529</a><br /> +<br /> +Lea, Henry Charles, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>, <a href="#Page_363">363</a><br /> +<br /> +League Island, <a href="#Page_529">529</a><br /> +<br /> +Leary's, <a href="#Page_126">126</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Ledger</i> (newspaper), <a href="#Page_113">113</a>, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>, <a href="#Page_355">355</a><br /> +<br /> +Lee, Vernon (Violet Paget), <a href="#Page_260">260</a><br /> +<br /> +Leland, Charles Godfrey, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>-<a href="#Page_238">238</a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>-<a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>, <a href="#Page_272">272</a>, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>, <a href="#Page_276">276</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>, <a href="#Page_319">319</a>-<a href="#Page_330">330</a>, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>-<a href="#Page_348">348</a>, <a href="#Page_396">396</a>, <a href="#Page_399">399</a>, <a href="#Page_405">405</a><br /> +<br /> +Leland, Charles Godfrey, <i>Memoirs</i> of, <a href="#Page_276">276</a><br /> +<br /> +L'Enfant (architect), <a href="#Page_533">533</a><br /> +<br /> +Leslie, Margaret (artist), <a href="#Page_396">396</a><br /> +<br /> +Leslie, Miss, Cookery Book, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>, <a href="#Page_423">423</a>-<a href="#Page_437">437</a><br /> +<br /> +Levi, Eliphas, <a href="#Page_242">242</a><br /> +<br /> +Lewises, <a href="#Page_50">50</a><br /> +<br /> +Li Hung Chang, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_513">513</a><br /> +<br /> +Library, Bryn Mawr College, <a href="#Page_307">307</a><br /> +<br /> +Library of Congress, <a href="#Page_309">309</a><br /> +<br /> +Library, Free Public, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_534">534</a><br /> +<br /> +Library, Friends', Germantown, <a href="#Page_307">307</a><br /> +<br /> +Library, Historical Society, <a href="#Page_307">307</a><br /> +<br /> +Library, Mercantile, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_241">241</a><br /> +<br /> +Library, Philadelphia, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_455">455</a><br /> +<br /> +Library, Ridgway, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_364">364</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Life of Blake</i>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a><br /> +<br /> +Lionardo da Vinci, <a href="#Page_402">402</a><br /> +<br /> +Lippincott, Horace Mather, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_361">361</a><br /> +<br /> +Lippincott, J. B., <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_313">313</a><br /> +<br /> +Lippincott's (book-store), <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Lippincott's Magazine</i>, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>, <a href="#Page_427">427</a><br /> +<br /> +Lithuanians (immigrants), <a href="#Page_468">468</a>, <a href="#Page_473">473</a><br /> +<br /> +"Little England" of Kensington, <a href="#Page_19">19</a><br /> +<br /> +"Little Street of Clubs, the," <a href="#Page_351">351</a>, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Lives of the Artists</i>, <a href="#Page_373">373</a><br /> +<br /> +Locust Street, <a href="#Page_472">472</a><br /> +<br /> +Logan, Deborah, <a href="#Page_309">309</a><br /> +<br /> +Logan, James, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_417">417</a>, <a href="#Page_421">421</a>, <a href="#Page_518">518</a><br /> +<br /> +Logan Square, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>, <a href="#Page_500">500</a><br /> +<br /> +Loganian Library (see Ridgway), <a href="#Page_364">364</a><br /> +<br /> +Lombard Street, <a href="#Page_472">472</a><br /> +<br /> +Long Branch, <a href="#Page_169">169</a><br /> +<br /> +Longfellow, Henry W., <a href="#Page_320">320</a>, <a href="#Page_329">329</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Looking Backward</i>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Lost Heiress, The</i>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a><br /> +<br /> +Lowell, James Russell, <a href="#Page_316">316</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Macalisters, the, <a href="#Page_31">31</a><br /> +<br /> +McCalls, the, <a href="#Page_158">158</a><br /> +<br /> +McCarter, Henry, artist, <a href="#Page_407">407</a><br /> +<br /> +MacVeagh, Wayne, <a href="#Page_343">343</a><br /> +<br /> +Madeira (wine), <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_417">417</a>-<a href="#Page_423">423</a>, <a href="#Page_506">506</a>, <a href="#Page_510">510</a><br /> +<br /> +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Maennerchor'">Mäennerchor</ins> Garden, <a href="#Page_500">500</a><br /> +<br /> +Main Line, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a><br /> +<br /> +Main Street in Germantown, <a href="#Page_297">297</a><br /> +<br /> +Manayunk, <a href="#Page_522">522</a><br /> +<br /> +Maria, Father de, <a href="#Page_191">191</a><br /> +<br /> +Marion, General Francis, <a href="#Page_216">216</a><br /> +<br /> +"Market, Arch, Race and Vine," <a href="#Page_281">281</a><br /> +<br /> +Market Street, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, <a href="#Page_310">310</a>, <a href="#Page_329">329</a>, <a href="#Page_451">451</a>, <a href="#Page_456">456</a>, <a href="#Page_489">489</a><br /> +<br /> +Martin, Madame, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a><br /> +<br /> +Maryland, Eastern Shore of, <a href="#Page_219">219</a><br /> +<br /> +Matisse, artist, <a href="#Page_402">402</a><br /> +<br /> +Mayflower (ship), <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_525">525</a><br /> +<br /> +Meeting-Houses, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>, <a href="#Page_517">517</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Meg Merrilies</i>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a><br /> +<br /> +Memorial Hall, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_405">405</a>, <a href="#Page_526">526</a><br /> +<br /> +Mennonites in Germantown, <a href="#Page_176">176</a><br /> +<br /> +Mercantile Library, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a><br /> +<br /> +Merritt, Mrs. Anna Lea, <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +Methodists, <a href="#Page_183">183</a><br /> +<br /> +Mifflin, Mrs. (Art Club), <a href="#Page_399">399</a><br /> +<br /> +Millais, John Everett, <a href="#Page_275">275</a><br /> +<br /> +Miller, Leslie, <a href="#Page_396">396</a><br /> +<br /> +Milton, John, <a href="#Page_308">308</a><br /> +<br /> +Mint, United States, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_379">379</a>, <a href="#Page_459">459</a>, <a href="#Page_533">533</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Mischief in the Middle Ages</i>, <a href="#Page_243">243</a><br /> +<br /> +Mitchell, Dr. S. Weir, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_363">363</a>, <a href="#Page_456">456</a><br /> +<br /> +Moore, Mrs. Bloomfield, <a href="#Page_379">379</a><br /> +<br /> +Moran family, <a href="#Page_394">394</a><br /> +<br /> +Moravians, monasteries of, <a href="#Page_176">176</a><br /> +<br /> +Morrises, the, <a href="#Page_216">216</a><br /> +<br /> +Morris, Gouverneur, <a href="#Page_133">133</a><br /> +<br /> +Morris, Harrison S., <a href="#Page_362">362</a><br /> +<br /> +Morris House, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_521">521</a><br /> +<br /> +Morris, William, <a href="#Page_400">400</a>, <a href="#Page_408">408</a><br /> +<br /> +Mother Goose, <a href="#Page_242">242</a><br /> +<br /> +Mount Airy, <a href="#Page_170">170</a><br /> +<br /> +Mount Pleasant, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a><br /> +<br /> +Moxon's <i>Tennyson</i>, <a href="#Page_372">372</a><br /> +<br /> +Moyamensing Prison, <a href="#Page_263">263</a><br /> +<br /> +Murillo (painting), <a href="#Page_372">372</a><br /> +<br /> +Mustin's, <a href="#Page_125">125</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Napoleon, pictures of, <a href="#Page_374">374</a><br /> +<br /> +Narragansett Pier, <a href="#Page_169">169</a><br /> +<br /> +Nash, Richard ("Beau"), <a href="#Page_145">145</a><br /> +<br /> +Natatorium, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_499">499</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Nation</i>, the (New York), <a href="#Page_249">249</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>National Observer</i>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a><br /> +<br /> +Navy Yard, <a href="#Page_529">529</a><br /> +<br /> +New Century Club, <a href="#Page_494">494</a><br /> +<br /> +New Testament (German), <a href="#Page_310">310</a><br /> +<br /> +New Year's Day, <a href="#Page_152">152</a><br /> +<br /> +New York magazines, <a href="#Page_337">337</a><br /> +<br /> +Newman's <i>Callista</i>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a><br /> +<br /> +Nilsson, Christine, <a href="#Page_401">401</a><br /> +<br /> +Ninth and Green (streets), <a href="#Page_489">489</a>, <a href="#Page_500">500</a><br /> +<br /> +Nordau, Max, <a href="#Page_402">402</a><br /> +<br /> +Norrises, the, <a href="#Page_216">216</a><br /> +<br /> +Norris, Isaac, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_417">417</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>North American</i>, the, <a href="#Page_355">355</a><br /> +<br /> +Northern Liberties, <a href="#Page_522">522</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Oakdale Park, <a href="#Page_293">293</a><br /> +<br /> +Oakley, Thornton, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Oakley, Violet, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Old Mam'selle's Secret</i>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +<br /> +Old Swedes Church, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a><br /> +<br /> +Orpheus Club, <a href="#Page_153">153</a><br /> +<br /> +Ouida's Guardsman, <a href="#Page_275">275</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Our American Cousin</i>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Our Continent</i>, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>, <a href="#Page_341">341</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Our Convent Days</i>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Ours</i>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a><br /> +<br /> +Oxford (England), <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_529">529</a><br /> +<br /> +Oxford, Dr. (cookery books), <a href="#Page_424">424</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Page, George Bispham, architect, <a href="#Page_407">407</a><br /> +<br /> +Paget, Violet (Vernon Lee), <a href="#Page_260">260</a><br /> +<br /> +Park (see Fairmount), <a href="#Page_534">534</a>, <a href="#Page_538">538</a><br /> +<br /> +Parkway, the new, <a href="#Page_405">405</a>, <a href="#Page_534">534</a><br /> +<br /> +Parrish, Maxfield, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Parrish, Stephen, <a href="#Page_396">396</a><br /> +<br /> +Patterson, General, house of, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_459">459</a><br /> +<br /> +Peale, Charles Wilson, <a href="#Page_389">389</a><br /> +<br /> +Pegasus Societies, <a href="#Page_352">352</a><br /> +<br /> +Penn Club, <a href="#Page_351">351</a><br /> +<br /> +Penn, John, <a href="#Page_517">517</a><br /> +<br /> +Penn, William, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_260">260</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>-<a href="#Page_289">289</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>, <a href="#Page_382">382</a>, <a href="#Page_408">408</a>, <a href="#Page_417">417</a>, <a href="#Page_421">421</a>, <a href="#Page_455">455</a>, <a href="#Page_456">456</a>, <a href="#Page_474">474</a>, <a href="#Page_500">500</a>, <a href="#Page_526">526</a>, <a href="#Page_533">533</a><br /> +<br /> +Penn, William, statue of, <a href="#Page_9">9</a><br /> +<br /> +Pennell, Joseph, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>-<a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>, <a href="#Page_351">351</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_368">368</a>, <a href="#Page_376">376</a>, <a href="#Page_380">380</a>, <a href="#Page_393">393</a>-<a href="#Page_395">395</a>, <a href="#Page_474">474</a><br /> +<br /> +Pennock Brothers, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_439">439</a><br /> +<br /> +Pennsbury, <a href="#Page_31">31</a><br /> +<br /> +Pennsylvania Historical Society, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>, <a href="#Page_364">364</a><br /> +<br /> +Pennsylvania Hospital, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a>, <a href="#Page_460">460</a><br /> +<br /> +Pennsylvania Jew, <a href="#Page_467">467</a><br /> +<br /> +Pennsylvania, promotion of science by, <a href="#Page_309">309</a><br /> +<br /> +Pennsylvania Railroad, <a href="#Page_276">276</a><br /> +<br /> +Pennsylvania Railroad Station, <a href="#Page_276">276</a>, <a href="#Page_448">448</a>, <a href="#Page_451">451</a><br /> +<br /> +Pennsylvania, University of, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a>, <a href="#Page_364">364</a>, <a href="#Page_473">473</a>, <a href="#Page_496">496</a>, <a href="#Page_526">526</a><br /> +<br /> +Pennypacker, Governor, <a href="#Page_307">307</a><br /> +<br /> +Peppers, the, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_399">399</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Peterson's</i> (magazine), <a href="#Page_314">314</a>, <a href="#Page_337">337</a><br /> +<br /> +Philadelphia Art Club, <a href="#Page_324">324</a><br /> +<br /> +Philadelphia Bank, <a href="#Page_49">49</a><br /> +<br /> +Philadelphia Club, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>, <a href="#Page_443">443</a>, <a href="#Page_510">510</a><br /> +<br /> +Philadelphia Library, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>, <a href="#Page_455">455</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Philadelphia Saturday Museum</i>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a><br /> +<br /> +Phillips, John S., <a href="#Page_376">376</a><br /> +<br /> +Philosophical Society, American, <a href="#Page_418">418</a><br /> +<br /> +Picasso, artist, <a href="#Page_402">402</a><br /> +<br /> +Plastic Club, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Pocahontas, <a href="#Page_9">9</a><br /> +<br /> +Poe, Edgar Allan, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a><br /> +<br /> +Poor Richard (club), <a href="#Page_352">352</a><br /> +<br /> +Poor Richard's Almanac, <a href="#Page_310">310</a><br /> +<br /> +Poore, Harry, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>, <a href="#Page_272">272</a><br /> +<br /> +Pope of Rome, <a href="#Page_120">120</a><br /> +<br /> +Pope's Head, <a href="#Page_310">310</a><br /> +<br /> +Porter and Coates, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a><br /> +<br /> +Post-Impressionists, <a href="#Page_381">381</a><br /> +<br /> +Powhatan, <a href="#Page_9">9</a><br /> +<br /> +Pre-Raphaelites, <a href="#Page_373">373</a>, <a href="#Page_390">390</a><br /> +<br /> +Presbyterian Building, <a href="#Page_271">271</a><br /> +<br /> +Presbyterians, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Press</i>, the, <a href="#Page_245">245</a><br /> +<br /> +Provence, <a href="#Page_60">60</a><br /> +<br /> +Public Buildings (see City Hall), <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_526">526</a><br /> +<br /> +Public Industrial Art School, <a href="#Page_405">405</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Punch</i> (London), <a href="#Page_250">250</a><br /> +<br /> +Puritans (New England), <a href="#Page_417">417</a><br /> +<br /> +Putnam (N. Y. publisher), <a href="#Page_315">315</a><br /> +<br /> +Pyle, Howard, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>, <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Quakers (see Friends), <a href="#Page_15">15</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Queechy</i>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Race (Sassafras) Street, <a href="#Page_281">281</a><br /> +<br /> +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Racquet'">Racquets</ins> Club, <a href="#Page_499">499</a>, <a href="#Page_529">529</a><br /> +<br /> +Rafael (pictures), <a href="#Page_372">372</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a><br /> +<br /> +Ralph (Franklin's friend), <a href="#Page_310">310</a><br /> +<br /> +Randolph House, <a href="#Page_463">463</a><br /> +<br /> +Reading Terminal, <a href="#Page_538">538</a><br /> +<br /> +Redfield, Edward W., artist, <a href="#Page_407">407</a><br /> +<br /> +Rembrandt (painting), <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Renaissance, period of, <a href="#Page_11">11</a><br /> +<br /> +Repplier, Agnes, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a><br /> +<br /> +Revolution (American), <a href="#Page_382">382</a>, <a href="#Page_389">389</a>, <a href="#Page_418">418</a>, <a href="#Page_518">518</a>, <a href="#Page_525">525</a><br /> +<br /> +Rhodes scholars, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_529">529</a><br /> +<br /> +Richards, William T., artist, <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +Ridgway Library, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_364">364</a><br /> +<br /> +Rittenhouse Smiths, <a href="#Page_363">363</a><br /> +<br /> +Rittenhouse Square, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>, <a href="#Page_456">456</a><br /> +<br /> +Ritz-Carlton (hotel), <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_414">414</a>, <a href="#Page_447">447</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Robin Hood</i> (Howard Pyle's), <a href="#Page_249">249</a><br /> +<br /> +Robins, Edward, Jr., <a href="#Page_358">358</a><br /> +<br /> +Robins, Edward, Sr., <a href="#Page_1">1</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_239">239</a>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_259">259</a>, <a href="#Page_260">260</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_323">323</a>, <a href="#Page_371">371</a>, <a href="#Page_372">372</a>, <a href="#Page_374">374</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>, <a href="#Page_423">423</a>, <a href="#Page_427">427</a>, <a href="#Page_459">459</a>, <a href="#Page_500">500</a>, <a href="#Page_505">505</a><br /> +<br /> +Robins, Grant, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>, <a href="#Page_505">505</a><br /> +<br /> +Robins, Mrs. Thomas, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_239">239</a>, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>, <a href="#Page_437">437</a><br /> +<br /> +Robins, Thomas, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>-<a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>-<a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_373">373</a>-<a href="#Page_375">375</a>, <a href="#Page_413">413</a>, <a href="#Page_421">421</a>, <a href="#Page_459">459</a><br /> +<br /> +Robinson, Mary (Mme. Duclaux), <a href="#Page_260">260</a><br /> +<br /> +Rogers, Fairman, <a href="#Page_493">493</a><br /> +<br /> +"Rogers Group," <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_374">374</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a><br /> +<br /> +Romanticists (artists), <a href="#Page_390">390</a><br /> +<br /> +Roosevelt, Theodore, <a href="#Page_506">506</a><br /> +<br /> +Rorer, Mrs. (cookery book), <a href="#Page_428">428</a><br /> +<br /> +Ross, Betsy, house of, <a href="#Page_281">281</a><br /> +<br /> +Rossetti, Dante Gabriel, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_372">372</a>, <a href="#Page_373">373</a><br /> +<br /> +Rossetti, William Michael, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Routledge</i>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a><br /> +<br /> +Royal Academy, <a href="#Page_389">389</a>, <a href="#Page_411">411</a><br /> +<br /> +Royal Exchange, <a href="#Page_411">411</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Rubaiyat</i>, the, <a href="#Page_401">401</a><br /> +<br /> +Rubens (painting), <a href="#Page_246">246</a><br /> +<br /> +Rue de Rivoli, <a href="#Page_225">225</a><br /> +<br /> +Rush, Dr. Benjamin, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a><br /> +<br /> +Rush, Mrs., social leader, <a href="#Page_146">146</a><br /> +<br /> +Ruskin, John, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>, <a href="#Page_400">400</a>, <a href="#Page_402">402</a><br /> +<br /> +Russian Jew, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_361">361</a>, <a href="#Page_460">460</a>, <a href="#Page_464">464</a>-<a href="#Page_471">471</a>, <a href="#Page_473">473</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Sacred Heart, Ladies of the, <a href="#Page_72">72</a><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Convent of, <a href="#Page_72">72</a> sq., <a href="#Page_258">258</a></span><br /> +<br /> +St. Andrew's (church), <a href="#Page_184">184</a><br /> +<br /> +St. Augustine's (church), <a href="#Page_198">198</a><br /> +<br /> +St. Clement's (church), <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_278">278</a><br /> +<br /> +St. James's (church), <a href="#Page_183">183</a><br /> +<br /> +St. John's (church), <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a><br /> +<br /> +St. Joseph's (church), <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>-<a href="#Page_199">199</a><br /> +<br /> +St. Mark's (church), <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a><br /> +<br /> +St. Mary's (church), <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_278">278</a><br /> +<br /> +St. Michael's (church), <a href="#Page_198">198</a><br /> +<br /> +St. Patrick's (church), <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a><br /> +<br /> +St. Paul's (school), <a href="#Page_162">162</a><br /> +<br /> +St. Peter's (church), <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>, <a href="#Page_463">463</a>, <a href="#Page_514">514</a><br /> +<br /> +Salons (Paris), <a href="#Page_411">411</a><br /> +<br /> +Sargent, John S., artist, <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +Sartain, Miss Emily, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>, <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +Sartain, William, <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Sartain's Union Magazine</i>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a><br /> +<br /> +Sassafras (Race) Street, <a href="#Page_281">281</a><br /> +<br /> +Saturday Club, <a href="#Page_152">152</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Saturday Evening Post</i>, <a href="#Page_355">355</a><br /> +<br /> +Saur's New Testament, <a href="#Page_310">310</a><br /> +<br /> +Sautter's, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_444">444</a>, <a href="#Page_449">449</a>, <a href="#Page_456">456</a>, <a href="#Page_506">506</a><br /> +<br /> +Schaumberg, Emily, <a href="#Page_107">107</a><br /> +<br /> +School Board, <a href="#Page_259">259</a><br /> +<br /> +School of Industrial Arts, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>, <a href="#Page_405">405</a><br /> +<br /> +Schools, Public, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +<br /> +Schuylkill (river), <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_276">276</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_362">362</a>, <a href="#Page_451">451</a>, <a href="#Page_468">468</a>, <a href="#Page_481">481</a>, <a href="#Page_496">496</a>, <a href="#Page_538">538</a><br /> +<br /> +Scott, Walter, <a href="#Page_59">59</a><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">heroines of, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">novels of, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>, <a href="#Page_336">336</a>, <a href="#Page_427">427</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Second Street, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>, <a href="#Page_517">517</a><br /> +<br /> +Second Street Market, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a><br /> +<br /> +Seminary at Villanova, <a href="#Page_198">198</a><br /> +<br /> +Senat, Prosper, <a href="#Page_395">395</a><br /> +<br /> +Seville (churches of), <a href="#Page_199">199</a><br /> +<br /> +Shakespeare Societies, <a href="#Page_352">352</a><br /> +<br /> +Shakespeare, William, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>, <a href="#Page_363">363</a>, <a href="#Page_401">401</a><br /> +<br /> +Shelley, Percy Bysshe, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_313">313</a><br /> +<br /> +Sheppard, J. B. & Sons, <a href="#Page_125">125</a><br /> +<br /> +Shinn (apothecary), <a href="#Page_459">459</a><br /> +<br /> +Shippen, Edward, <a href="#Page_42">42</a><br /> +<br /> +Shippen, Peggy, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a><br /> +<br /> +"Shippen, Peggy," <a href="#Page_162">162</a>, <a href="#Page_356">356</a><br /> +<br /> +Shippens, the, <a href="#Page_158">158</a><br /> +<br /> +Simses, the, <a href="#Page_158">158</a><br /> +<br /> +Sketch Club, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Sky-scrapers, <a href="#Page_355">355</a>, <a href="#Page_530">530</a><br /> +<br /> +Slavs (immigrants), <a href="#Page_468">468</a>, <a href="#Page_471">471</a><br /> +<br /> +Smarius, Father, <a href="#Page_193">193</a><br /> +<br /> +Smedley, William T., artist, <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +Smith, Albert, <a href="#Page_263">263</a><br /> +<br /> +Smith, Jessie Wilcox, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Smith, Lloyd, <a href="#Page_242">242</a><br /> +<br /> +Smith, Logan Pearsall, <a href="#Page_364">364</a><br /> +<br /> +Smith, Provost, house of, <a href="#Page_281">281</a><br /> +<br /> +Society Hill, <a href="#Page_522">522</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Solon Shingle</i>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a><br /> +<br /> +Sons of Pennsylvania, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a><br /> +<br /> +Sothern, Edward Askew, <a href="#Page_68">68</a><br /> +<br /> +South Kensington, England, <a href="#Page_408">408</a><br /> +<br /> +South Street, <a href="#Page_472">472</a><br /> +<br /> +Southwark, <a href="#Page_522">522</a><br /> +<br /> +Southworth, Mrs. Emma D. E. Nevitt, <a href="#Page_59">59</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Souvenir, The</i>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a><br /> +<br /> +Springett, Guli, <a href="#Page_15">15</a><br /> +<br /> +Spruce Street, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a> sq., <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>, <a href="#Page_460">460</a>, <a href="#Page_468">468</a>, <a href="#Page_538">538</a><br /> +<br /> +State House, the, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a>, <a href="#Page_382">382</a>, <a href="#Page_471">471</a>, <a href="#Page_514">514</a><br /> +<br /> +State in Schuylkill, <a href="#Page_443">443</a><br /> +<br /> +Station (Broad and Market), <a href="#Page_489">489</a><br /> +<br /> +Stations and terminals, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_276">276</a>, <a href="#Page_481">481</a>, <a href="#Page_489">489</a>, <a href="#Page_538">538</a><br /> +<br /> +Stations (railroad), <a href="#Page_481">481</a>, <a href="#Page_489">489</a>, <a href="#Page_538">538</a><br /> +<br /> +Steadmans, the, <a href="#Page_31">31</a><br /> +<br /> +Steevens, George, <a href="#Page_449">449</a>, <a href="#Page_478">478</a><br /> +<br /> +Stenton, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>, <a href="#Page_518">518</a><br /> +<br /> +Stephens (artist), <a href="#Page_396">396</a><br /> +<br /> +Stephens, Alice Barber, <a href="#Page_396">396</a><br /> +<br /> +Stephens, Charles H., <a href="#Page_396">396</a><br /> +<br /> +Stevenson, Mrs. Cornelius, <a href="#Page_364">364</a><br /> +<br /> +Stewardson, John, architect, <a href="#Page_407">407</a><br /> +<br /> +Stewart, Jules, <a href="#Page_393">393</a><br /> +<br /> +Stock Exchange, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_468">468</a>, <a href="#Page_486">486</a>, <a href="#Page_500">500</a><br /> +<br /> +Stockton, Frank R., <a href="#Page_336">336</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a><br /> +<br /> +Stockton, Louise, <a href="#Page_338">338</a><br /> +<br /> +Stokes, Frank W., artist, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Strawberry Mansion, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_430">430</a><br /> +<br /> +Strawbridge and Clothier, <a href="#Page_125">125</a><br /> +<br /> +Stuart, Gilbert, artist, <a href="#Page_389">389</a><br /> +<br /> +Stuart, Gilbert, picture of Washington by, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_374">374</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>, <a href="#Page_447">447</a><br /> +<br /> +Swarthmore (school), <a href="#Page_258">258</a><br /> +<br /> +Swedes (immigrants), <a href="#Page_471">471</a><br /> +<br /> +Swedes Church, Old, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>, <a href="#Page_514">514</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>Telegraph, Evening</i>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a><br /> +<br /> +Temple, the (London), <a href="#Page_324">324</a><br /> +<br /> +Tennyson's Poems, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_372">372</a>, <a href="#Page_373">373</a><br /> +<br /> +Terminals (railroad), <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_481">481</a>, <a href="#Page_489">489</a>, <a href="#Page_538">538</a><br /> +<br /> +Terry, Ellen, <a href="#Page_401">401</a><br /> +<br /> +Thackeray (William Makepeace), <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, <a href="#Page_422">422</a><br /> +<br /> +Thanksgiving Day, <a href="#Page_63">63</a><br /> +<br /> +Théâtre Français, <a href="#Page_68">68</a><br /> +<br /> +Theatres, <a href="#Page_67">67</a><br /> +<br /> +Thiers' <i>French Revolution</i>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a><br /> +<br /> +Third Street, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_278">278</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_486">486</a><br /> +<br /> +Thomas, George C., <a href="#Page_307">307</a><br /> +<br /> +Thompson, "Aunt Ad," <a href="#Page_342">342</a><br /> +<br /> +Thouron, Henry, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Torresdale, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a> sq., <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_278">278</a>, <a href="#Page_451">451</a><br /> +<br /> +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Tourgée'">Tourgee</ins>, Judge Albion W., <a href="#Page_338">338</a><br /> +<br /> +Traubel, Horace, <a href="#Page_364">364</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Traveller, The</i>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a><br /> +<br /> +Treaty with the Indians (Penn), <a href="#Page_375">375</a><br /> +<br /> +Tree, Beerbohm, <a href="#Page_68">68</a><br /> +<br /> +Trollope, Anthony, <a href="#Page_401">401</a><br /> +<br /> +Trotter, Mary, <a href="#Page_396">396</a><br /> +<br /> +Trumbauer, Horace, architect, <a href="#Page_407">407</a><br /> +<br /> +Tuileries (Paris), <a href="#Page_222">222</a>, <a href="#Page_533">533</a><br /> +<br /> +Twelfth and Market, <a href="#Page_489">489</a><br /> +<br /> +Twelfth Street Market, <a href="#Page_54">54</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Union League, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_443">443</a>, <a href="#Page_447">447</a>, <a href="#Page_533">533</a><br /> +<br /> +University of Pennsylvania, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_364">364</a>, <a href="#Page_473">473</a>, <a href="#Page_496">496</a>, <a href="#Page_526">526</a>, <a href="#Page_529">529</a><br /> +<br /> +University, Provosts of, <a href="#Page_119">119</a><br /> +<br /> +University School (architecture), <a href="#Page_407">407</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Van Rensselaer, Mrs. John King, <a href="#Page_363">363</a><br /> +<br /> +Van Tromp, Miss, miniatures, <a href="#Page_395">395</a><br /> +<br /> +Vaux, Richard, <a href="#Page_342">342</a><br /> +<br /> +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Vieaire'">Vicaire</ins> (<i>Bibliographie</i>), <a href="#Page_424">424</a><br /> +<br /> +Vienna Cafés (Centennial), <a href="#Page_210">210</a>, <a href="#Page_227">227</a><br /> +<br /> +Villanova Seminary, <a href="#Page_198">198</a><br /> +<br /> +Villon, François, essay on, <a href="#Page_238">238</a><br /> +<br /> +Virginia Company, the first, <a href="#Page_219">219</a><br /> +<br /> +Virginia, early settlers in, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a><br /> +<br /> +Voltaire (author), <a href="#Page_428">428</a>, <a href="#Page_513">513</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Walnut Lane, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>, <a href="#Page_538">538</a><br /> +<br /> +Walnut Street, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_468">468</a>, <a href="#Page_489">489</a>, <a href="#Page_494">494</a>, <a href="#Page_538">538</a><br /> +<br /> +Walnut Street Theatre, <a href="#Page_67">67</a><br /> +<br /> +Wanamaker's, <a href="#Page_530">530</a><br /> +<br /> +War, Civil, the, <a href="#Page_130">130</a><br /> +<br /> +Ward, Genevieve, <a href="#Page_348">348</a><br /> +<br /> +Wardle, Thomas (<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Both 'bookseller' and 'book-seller' were used in this text. This was retained.">bookseller</ins>), <a href="#Page_313">313</a><br /> +<br /> +Washington (city), <a href="#Page_226">226</a>, <a href="#Page_534">534</a><br /> +<br /> +Washington, George, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_482">482</a>, <a href="#Page_526">526</a><br /> +<br /> +Washington's Birthday, <a href="#Page_63">63</a><br /> +<br /> +Washington's household, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_433">433</a><br /> +<br /> +Washington, statue of, <a href="#Page_386">386</a><br /> +<br /> +Waterloo (eve of), <a href="#Page_254">254</a><br /> +<br /> +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: 'Waterworks,' 'Water Works,' and 'Water-Works' were used in this text. This was retained.">Water-Works</ins> (Fairmount), <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_533">533</a><br /> +<br /> +Watson, John, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_356">356</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_413">413</a><br /> +<br /> +Watts, Harvey M., <a href="#Page_362">362</a><br /> +<br /> +Waugh, Frederick J., marine painter, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Welsh, John, <a href="#Page_50">50</a><br /> +<br /> +West, Benjamin, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_389">389</a><br /> +<br /> +West Philadelphia, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_468">468</a>, <a href="#Page_529">529</a>, <a href="#Page_538">538</a><br /> +<br /> +Wharton, Anne Hollingsworth, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_361">361</a><br /> +<br /> +Whartons, the, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a><br /> +<br /> +Whelans, the, <a href="#Page_31">31</a><br /> +<br /> +Whistler, James A. McNeill, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_395">395</a>, <a href="#Page_396">396</a>, <a href="#Page_405">405</a>, <a href="#Page_534">534</a><br /> +<br /> +White, Ambrose, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a><br /> +<br /> +White, Bishop, <a href="#Page_290">290</a><br /> +<br /> +White, Dr. (dentist), <a href="#Page_64">64</a><br /> +<br /> +White, William, <a href="#Page_144">144</a><br /> +<br /> +White, Willie, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a><br /> +<br /> +Whitefield, George, <a href="#Page_177">177</a><br /> +<br /> +Whitman, Walt, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>, <a href="#Page_324">324</a>-<a href="#Page_331">331</a>, <a href="#Page_336">336</a>, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>, <a href="#Page_347">347</a>, <a href="#Page_364">364</a><br /> +<br /> +Whittier, John G., <a href="#Page_320">320</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Wide, Wide World, The</i>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +<br /> +Widener, Peter A. B., <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_406">406</a><br /> +<br /> +Wilde, Oscar, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>, <a href="#Page_347">347</a><br /> +<br /> +Williams, Dr. Francis Howard, <a href="#Page_336">336</a>, <a href="#Page_362">362</a><br /> +<br /> +Williams, Dr. Talcott, <a href="#Page_364">364</a><br /> +<br /> +Willing's Alley, <a href="#Page_184">184</a><br /> +<br /> +Willings, the, <a href="#Page_158">158</a><br /> +<br /> +Willis, N. P., <a href="#Page_316">316</a><br /> +<br /> +Willow Grove, <a href="#Page_213">213</a><br /> +<br /> +Wilstach Collection, <a href="#Page_405">405</a><br /> +<br /> +Wise, Herbert C., <a href="#Page_361">361</a><br /> +<br /> +Wissahickon (creek), <a href="#Page_177">177</a>, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a><br /> +<br /> +Wistar House, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_521">521</a><br /> +<br /> +Wistar parties, <a href="#Page_146">146</a><br /> +<br /> +Wister, Mrs., authoress, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>, <a href="#Page_336">336</a><br /> +<br /> +Wister, Owen, <a href="#Page_363">363</a><br /> +<br /> +"Wister, Sally," <a href="#Page_162">162</a>, <a href="#Page_356">356</a><br /> +<br /> +Wisters, the, <a href="#Page_107">107</a><br /> +<br /> +Woman in White (German mystics), <a href="#Page_176">176</a><br /> +<br /> +Woman's School of Design, <a href="#Page_405">405</a><br /> +<br /> +Wood, Bishop, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a><br /> +<br /> +Woodland's, <a href="#Page_126">126</a><br /> +<br /> +Wren, Sir Christopher, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>, <a href="#Page_533">533</a><br /> +<br /> +Wyck, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_521">521</a><br /> +<br /> +Wyeth's, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_456">456</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Yale (college), <a href="#Page_162">162</a><br /> +<br /> +Yearly Meeting, <a href="#Page_289">289</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Yellow Buskin</i>, the, <a href="#Page_405">405</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Zantzinger, C. C., architect, <a href="#Page_407">407</a><br /> +<br /> +Zola, Émile, <a href="#Page_259">259</a><br /> +</div> + + + + +<hr /> +<div class="blockquot"> +<h4>IN THE LAND OF TEMPLES</h4> + +<h4>By JOSEPH PENNELL</h4> + +<p>Reproductions of a series of lithographs by him, together +with impressions and notes by the artist and an +introduction by W. H. D. ROUSE, M.A., L.H.D.</p> + +<p><i>Crown Quarto, printed on dull finished +paper, lithograph by Mr. Pennell +on cover. $1.25 net.</i></p> + +<br /> +<h4>JOSEPH PENNELL'S PICTURES OF THE PANAMA CANAL</h4> + +<p>Reproductions of a series of twenty-eight lithographs +made on the Isthmus of Panama, January-March, +1912, with Mr. Pennell's introduction, giving his experiences, +impressions, and full description of each picture.</p> + +<p><i>Volume 7¼ by 10 inches. Beautifully printed +on dull finished paper. Lithograph by +Mr. Pennell on cover. $1.25 net.</i></p> + +<br /> +<h4>LIFE OF JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER</h4> + +<h4>By ELIZABETH R. and JOSEPH PENNELL</h4> + +<p>The Pennells have thoroughly revised the material in +their Authorized Life, and added much new matter, +which for lack of space they were unable to incorporate +in the elaborate two-volume edition now out of print. +Fully illustrated with 96 plates reproduced from Whistler's +works, more than half reproduced for the first time.</p> + +<p><i>Crown octavo. Fifth and revised edition. +Whistler binding, deckle edge, $3.50 net. +Three quarters grain levant, $7.50 net.</i></p> + +<h4>J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY<br /> +PUBLISHERS PHILADELPHIA</h4></div> + + +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> + +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p> + +<p>Index page references that erroneously lead to pages without +text (blank or illustration only) were removed.</p> + +<p>Most of the illustrations have been moved from their original positions +to avoid paragraphs being truncated in this text. The List of +Illustrations cites their original page numbers, however the hyperlinks +will take the reader to the new position.</p> + +<p>Some advertisements for other books published by J. B. Lippincot were moved +from page ii to the end of the text.</p> + +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. +Scroll the mouse over the word and the Transcriber's Note will +<ins title="like this">appear</ins>.</p></div> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Our Philadelphia, by Elizabeth Robins Pennell + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR PHILADELPHIA *** + +***** This file should be named 38076-h.htm or 38076-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/0/7/38076/ + +Produced by Judith Wirawan, Suzanne Shell, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/38076-h/images/cover.jpg b/38076-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f3326d8 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs001.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ae7178d --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs001.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs002.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..97eb3e9 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs002.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs003.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8504209 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs003.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs004.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs004.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2651a0f --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs004.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs005.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs005.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a6597d8 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs005.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs006.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs006.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fdb2fdd --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs006.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs007.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs007.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2df5a7f --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs007.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs008.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs008.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..42df692 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs008.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs009.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs009.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6e379ea --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs009.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs010.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs010.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..eed79fc --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs010.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs011.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs011.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e15d7ed --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs011.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs012.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs012.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a8580b2 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs012.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs013.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs013.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d39ffc7 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs013.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs014.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs014.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..89e3062 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs014.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs015.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs015.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4b514ad --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs015.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs016.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs016.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4860316 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs016.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs017.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs017.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..72b24d2 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs017.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs018.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs018.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7826dde --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs018.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs019.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs019.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..58d1285 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs019.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs020.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs020.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8c33ce6 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs020.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs021.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs021.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..63edf51 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs021.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs022.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs022.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..98fa03a --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs022.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs023.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs023.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0bdeb90 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs023.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs024.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs024.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..17c4dcc --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs024.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs025.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs025.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3be80fc --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs025.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs026.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs026.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..614dfb2 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs026.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs027.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs027.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c10b2ad --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs027.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs028.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs028.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..48267b7 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs028.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs029.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs029.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9e6b591 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs029.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs030.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs030.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7209b14 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs030.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs031.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs031.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0902085 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs031.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs032.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs032.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..704621c --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs032.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs033.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs033.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b3a6a40 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs033.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs034.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs034.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d350c21 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs034.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs035.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs035.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ccc78c3 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs035.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs036.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs036.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bf205da --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs036.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs037.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs037.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..305689d --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs037.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs038.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs038.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2ea721a --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs038.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs039.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs039.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..42b9a84 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs039.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs040.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs040.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e63d7c3 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs040.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs041.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs041.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f99f18 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs041.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs042.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs042.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..eba0117 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs042.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs043.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs043.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b7952b1 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs043.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs044.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs044.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c66e4ed --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs044.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs045.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs045.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a212338 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs045.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs046.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs046.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..63f9205 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs046.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs047.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs047.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6e4d9a8 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs047.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs048.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs048.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a78445f --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs048.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs049.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs049.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0a0f92b --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs049.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs050.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs050.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9696728 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs050.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs051.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs051.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5413824 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs051.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs052.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs052.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b18e765 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs052.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs053.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs053.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4c1a34c --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs053.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs054.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs054.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..08bfd45 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs054.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs055.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs055.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4e84818 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs055.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs056.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs056.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8116475 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs056.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs057.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs057.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..afd820e --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs057.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs058.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs058.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d3523ed --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs058.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs059.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs059.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e1700f5 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs059.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs060.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs060.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d3eac8a --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs060.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs061.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs061.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3df1b0b --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs061.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs062.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs062.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1cf9c91 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs062.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs064.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs064.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9d7343a --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs064.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs065.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs065.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c901911 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs065.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs066.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs066.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a6be85b --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs066.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs067.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs067.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8e148bf --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs067.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs068.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs068.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4c1d5cb --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs068.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs069.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs069.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a03a744 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs069.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs070.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs070.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b8bd162 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs070.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs071.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs071.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3ffed70 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs071.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs072.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs072.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..48a283f --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs072.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs073.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs073.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5ac8018 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs073.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs074.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs074.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7742609 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs074.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs075.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs075.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a153efb --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs075.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs076.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs076.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9ab52dd --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs076.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs077.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs077.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..38ba9de --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs077.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs078.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs078.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..38d56df --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs078.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs079.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs079.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9ab4456 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs079.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs080.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs080.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8db510d --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs080.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs081.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs081.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a9aca09 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs081.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs082.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs082.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..42b37b3 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs082.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs083.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs083.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8bc3eac --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs083.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs084.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs084.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8e30de8 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs084.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs086.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs086.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..46a9f80 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs086.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs087.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs087.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b6d27a4 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs087.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs088.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs088.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..470dd53 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs088.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs089.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs089.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6b039bc --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs089.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs090.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs090.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..595fac4 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs090.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs091.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs091.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ab313d3 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs091.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs092.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs092.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..81f0649 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs092.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs093.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs093.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..34dbff9 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs093.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs094.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs094.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3a1d2f7 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs094.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs095.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs095.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6d45210 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs095.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs096.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs096.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7271546 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs096.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs097.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs097.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..37288a3 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs097.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs098.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs098.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b53b633 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs098.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs099.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs099.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..117a83f --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs099.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs100.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs100.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b421210 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs100.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs101.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs101.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9fc756c --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs101.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs102.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs102.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d4533c6 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs102.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs103.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs103.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b1b87cf --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs103.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs104.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs104.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..add44eb --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs104.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs105.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs105.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..26dfdd6 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs105.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs106.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs106.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9517d83 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs106.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/gs107.jpg b/38076-h/images/gs107.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f2a4fb --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/gs107.jpg diff --git a/38076-h/images/tp.jpg b/38076-h/images/tp.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..28f6617 --- /dev/null +++ b/38076-h/images/tp.jpg |
