to stay the flames were useless. The institution was filled with inmates and a number of rescues were made, but notwithstanding the risks that were taken by the citizens and the firemen, twenty-three of the little ones perished.

So many were the fires occurring about this time in different sections of the city, that it was decided to give the alarm from the State House by the ringing of the bell, the number of strokes giving the direction in which the fire lay. For instance, North, one stroke; South, two strokes; East, three strokes; West, four strokes; Northeast, one stroke and after an interval three strokes ; Northwest, one stroke and after an interval four strokes; Southeast, two strokes and after an interval three strokes; Southwest, two strokes, and after an interval, four strokes. In case of a general alarm, the bell, after giving the direction, would strike rapidly one stroke after another, and there are many citizens living today who can recall the excitement that was aroused in the city by the ringing of the bell. If the fire was of any magnitude men rushed from their homes to the scene of the conflagration, and a general alarm, struck at the dead hour of night, would terrify the staunchest heart and make children. cower in their cribs.

Dr. Caspar Wistar was one of the most distinguished physicians of his day and a man of great acquirements. He was for many years vice-president of the American Philosophical Society, and in 1815 followed Thomas Jefferson as its President, holding that office until his death in 1818. He resided at the southwest corner of Fourth and Locust streets, and in his home, once a week from November until April he gave a stag party consisting of fifteen to thirty persons, men of distinction drawn from every calling in life. Well known people who visited the city from abroad were among the guests as well as the leading men from every section of our own country. These gatherings were called "the Wistar Party," and were continued after his death even unto the present day. Those who formed the association immediately after the death of Dr. Wistar were William Tilghman, Professor Robert M. Patterson, P. S. Duponceau, John Vaughan, Reuben Haines, Robert Walsh, Zaccheus Collins, and Dr. Thomas C. James.

The Philadelphia College of Pharmacy, the Academy of Natural Sciences and the Franklin Institute came into existence during this period.

In the first quarter of the nineteenth century, the city had undergone many changes. Market street, west of Sixth, which had been a fine residential section, was gradually encroached upon by business houses and shops. In the erection of buildings, the balconies and porches which had been characteristic features of every dwelling, gradually disappeared. Window glass had been set in leaden frames, and the windows opened inside the dwellings like doors, but now sashes of a more modern type were used. The stores, too, began to introduce bulk windows in which the goods were tastefully and attractively displayed, and at night illuminated by whale oil lamps. At the beginning of the century, sun-dials were frequently seen on houses to remind the people of the hour of the day, for town clocks were scarce and there were but few people who carried watches.

The introduction of coal deprived many chimney sweeps of their occu

pation and they gradually disappeared from the streets, although a few lingered upon the scene, with their cheery call, even into comparatively recent times. Houses were now heated by plate stoves or by the Franklin open stove. Upright cylinders were used in the churches and public halls for the purpose of heating, thus doing away with the foot warmers, which had been such a comfort to worshippers in the past during the long drawn out sermons of the preachers. The charcoal man, who came across the river from Jersey, with his great tall, grimy wagon heaped up with charred wood, was not deprived of his occupation by the introduction of anthracite, for the householders, not yet being familiar with the use of hard coal, used the charcoal for the purpose of igniting it, and in the summer, plate stoves as a rule were abandoned by housekeepers and the charcoal furnace set up, out of doors. The introduction of stove coal did away, in a great measure, with the services of the wood sawyer, who had for years been so familiar a figure upon the streets.

At the beginning of the century, only the wealthy could furnish their homes with carpets and rugs but now these articles were gradually being introduced at comparatively a cheap figure, and the old custom of sanding the floors was dispensed with, and the sand man, losing his vocation, gradually disappeared from the highways. The walls and ceilings of all the dwellings heretofore had been whitewashed, but the introduction of wall papers, did away in a great measure, with the services of the white-wash man.

Although lotteries were still in vogue, they were now beginning to fall under public censure, for thoughtful people saw on all sides the immoral features of the institution. They recognized the fact that it was a mere game of chance and that it created a taste for gambling. The earliest mention of a lottery in Philadelphia was in 1720, when a citizen by the name of Charles Reed advertised to sell his brick house on Third street by lottery. The money for the erection of Christ Church steeple was secured by this means and the drawing took place in March, 1753. Funds were also raised in the same way for the erection of a steeple for the new Presbyterian Church, at the northwest corner of Third and Arch streets, in 1753. In 1754 five thousand tickets at four dollars each were sold to raise a fund to complete the City Academy on Fourth street. St. Paul's Church also was finished by money so raised. The passion spread out in every direction. Men disposed of their property, real and personal, by the sale of chance tickets. Public bridges were paid for in this way, while a Lighthouse at Cape Henlopen was erected by this means, at a cost of twenty thousand pounds. There were also lotteries for the Second Baptist Church, the Universalist Church, the Holy Trinity Roman Catholic Church, for the Surgical Institute at Baltimore and for the Lower Dublin Academy.

An Act was passed by the Legislature to restrain the sale of tickets, but it seems to have been a virtual dead letter, for the sale still continued and for almost every purpose under the sun. The most flaming and inducing advertisements appeared in the newspapers, and the names of the successful were always heralded abroad, thus inducing others to indulge in the game. The selling of tickets became a business in itself. Firms were established, advertised extensively and opened their offices to the public, and men indulged in the

passion as they do today in stock speculation, or in gambling on a horse race. "$15,000 for $6.00," was an announcement made by a broker named G. W. Waite, whose office was located at the southwest corner of Third and Chestnut streets, and who stated that he had sold and paid in prize money a sum amounting to six million dollars. Hope and Company was also a leading firm engaged in the business, with extensive offices on Chestnut street. These firms sold tickets not only for drawings in Pennsylvania, but also for those in other States. People of all classes took a chance, high and low, rich and poor. The drawings frequently were made in the State House. The wheel was set up, and boys dressed in uniforms, the sleeves of their jackets made tight to their arms to prevent trickery, drew forth the tickets, handed them to the manager who held them up in public view. Occasionally fortunes were made by one turn of the wheel, some receiving prizes as high as twenty-five or thirty thousand dollars.

So wild did the spirit of speculation become that it was most demoralizing in its influence among all classes. Prudent men seemed to lose their caution, many were reduced to beggary and in some instances, parents forgot their duty to their families in spending all their earnings in this desperate game of chance. It gave an opportunity, too, to the dishonest to set up what were called fake lotteries and false drawings. Lands that lay outside of the limits of civilization were advertised as being rich and alluvial for farming purposes and suitable for town sites, and in the mad chase for gold every chance was taken. Moral influences were, however, at work to restrain or counteract the growth of the gambling spirit, and at last laws were enacted that prevented public drawings, and gradually the excitement subsided.

In 1812, when the Capital of the State was removed from Lancaster to Harrisburg, and this town was permanently made the seat of government, a movement was put on foot by the authorities of Pennsylvania to dispose of the State House, and it was suggested that it be torn down and the ground, together with Independence Square, be divided into building lots. Fortunately, however, better counsels prevailed and the historic relic was purchased by the city from the State for seventy thousand dollars, and thus saved from demolition.

The scenes at this period in the everyday life of Philadelphia were, in some aspects, interesting and picturesque. A stranger passing through the streets would be impressed by the beauty of many of the residences, for the wealthy homes, in many instances, were still set in wide spaces of ground, surrounded by walls, the gardens adorned with flowers, while stately old trees shed their shade. He would see in the windows of the shops a goodly arrangement of articles of every description. He would find the markets teeming with life, with produce direct from the farms. Sitting at corners would be Indians offering their small wares for sale, for the Red Man still made his visits to the city. The squaws sat in front of the State House, plying their needles and making bead work, porters and wheelbarrow men hurried here and there on their errands. Drivers of hackneys stood at the corners of streets soliciting trade. Stage coaches were constantly arriving, the jaded horses being pushed to reach their destination. Conestoga teamsters, their wagons filled with flour,

whiskey, wheat, corn, pork and other country produce, passed along the highways. He would hear the cheerful cry of the sooty chimney sweep. The charcoal man blew his horn, announcing to the householders that he was coming, while the soap fat man pushed his wheelbarrow, all the while crying out, "Soap fat and hickory ashes." If it was early in the morning or late in the afternoon, the baker would be seen hurrying along with his basket or hand cart of hot bread. The scissors grinder and the catfish woman, the hominy man and the oyster Jack mingled their voices in the throng, while the strawberry woman, balancing on her head a tray heaped with the luscious fruit, joined in the general chorus. In the crowd of pedestrians going hither and thither, would be seen beautiful young women dressed in the latest styles, in many instances followed by their black lackeys.

If the visitor remained over night and stopped, for instance, at the Mansion House, one of the best hotels in the city at the time, he would find upon his return to supper the table "spread with the greatest profusion and bounty. Besides tea, coffee and such like ordinary accompaniments," they had "hot fish, sausages, beef steaks, broiled fowls, fried and stewed oysters, preserved fruits, etc." In the evening, if he visited the theatre, he would witness, no doubt, a standard English comedy, presented by a well trained company of skilled actors. Upon his return, however, to his hotel he might be compelled to room with another guest, perhaps, even to occupy the same bed with him, for the sleeping accommodations were not very extensive, even in the best and largest hotels. During the hours of night, he would hear the watch at the street corners calling out the time and the state of the weather, such as "Twelve o'clock and a cloudy morning," and in the language of a visitor to the city in 1824, he could say that "it is very agreeable to repose in bed and to hear the lanterned watchmen, as they perambulate the wards, which on a dark evening. are lighted with a thousand lamps, sing out, 'Past eleven o'clock and a cloudy night,' 'Three o'clock and bright star light,' and thus to strike the slow passing note of time through all the weary watches of their walks," or after hearing. the voices of the watchmen breaking the stillness of the night, he might be aroused by the loud ringing of the State House bell, sounding an alarm of fire, followed by men and boys running to the various hose or engine houses to bring out the apparatus which they hauled through the streets shouting and shrieking like a band of wild Apache Indians, while the clanging bells on the hose carriages only added to the dreadful din. Being satisfied that there was no immediate danger, in fact, being informed by his room mate that it was only a false alarm, he could retire to rest and sleep without fear of further annoyance until the morning dawned, unless the fleas and mosquitoes began an attack. The beds were without canopy nets and the windows were not screened and if the weather were favorable, these pestiferous insects were all but intolerable.

CHAPTER XIX.

ELECTION DAY. BUTCHERS' PARADES. BATHS. MUSIC. JOURNALISM. THE BAR. MEDICAL PROFESSION. ARTISTS. OFFICERS OF INSTITUTIONS.

E

VISIT OF LAFAYETTE.

LECTION day was a time of great excitement in the city. The elections had been held on the first of October, but subsequently the second Tuesday in that month was assigned. The electors of the wards of the city voted at the State House, each ward having a separate window before which was a wooden platform. Upon this elevation stood the window book men and the voters, when they deposited their ballots. The polls were opened between eight and ten o'clock in the morning, as the election officers might determine, and closed about ten o'clock at night. At this time there were about five thousand electors in the city, not including the outlying districts, such as Southwark, Moyamensing, Passyunk, Northern Liberties, Kensington and Germantown, which had separate polling places, but the centre of attraction was the State House. Here great crowds gathered early in the day and men stood in groups and argued the merits and demerits of the candidates, as well as the importance of the issues involved and sometimes the discussions grew so warm that they resulted in personal combats. John Lewis Krimmel's famous painting "Election Day at the State House" is an accurate depiction of the animated scene. All the while among the crowds circulated men and women selling cakes, apples, nuts, candies, hot muffins, fresh gingerbread, sandwiches and edibles of all kinds, and bawling out in chorus the excellence of their wares. Wagons covered with posters extolling the merits of the candidates and containing fifers and drummers, passed in all directions through the streets of the city. At the polling windows men crowded and jostled each other in their anxiety to deposit their ballots and as the day wore on and the working men were released from labor, the crowds greatly increased in numbers, but at night the excitement was at its height. Transparencies were lighted, as well as torches and lanterns. Canvassers importuned and buttonholed electors in behalf of their candidates. Carriages and vehicles of every description were brought into requisition to bring to the polls the tardy voters. At intervals throughout the day and evening the State House bell was rung to call citizens to their duty, and so great at times was the struggle to get voters to the polls that free fights occurred and clothing was torn into shreds, the scene having all the features of a modern football game. Rowdies, too, crowded about the polling places to intimidate the modest voters or to block the way of those who were anxious to deposit their ballots. The taverns in the neighborhood of the State House were crowded with tipplers and party workers, and they waited long after the polls closed to hear the returns and often morning broke before they separated. In fact, during Presidential election they stood at the bars. and drank for days and nights together, and laid wagers while waiting for the