VI.

THE most celebrated fete ever given in Philadelphia was that of the Meschianza, during the revolution. The famous Major Andre, whom writers of sentimental verses and romances have represented, with but little reason, as a very Bayard in character, left an interesting account of it, which has frequently been published.

The next entertainment in the city, of which we have any very minute history, was that given on the occasion of the birthday of the Dauphin of France, by the French minister, after the close of the war. Of this we have an ample description, by Dr. Rush, who was present with his family. For weeks the city was amused with preparations for the splendid fête. Hundreds thronged daily to see the great building, erected on the grounds next to M. Luzerne's house, for a dancing room. Its width upon the street was sixty feet, and its roof was supported by lofty pillars, painted and festooned. The interior was finished with taste, and ornamented with a profusion of banners and appropriate pictures, and the surrounding garden, with groves and fountains, spacious walks and numerous seats, invited guests from the crowd and heat of the brilliant hall, to rest, or for pleasing conversation. For ten days before the event nothing else was talked of in the city. The shops were filled with customers; hairdressers were retained; and tailors, milliners, and mantuamakers, seemed to have in their keeping the happiness of all who belonged to the fashionable world. The anxiously expected day at length arrived. At an early hour a corps of hairdressers took possession of the room assigned to the city watchmen, and so great was the demand on their attention, that many ladies were obliged to have their heads dressed between four and six o'clock in the morning. At seven o'clock in the evening, the hour appointed for the meeting of the company, it was

believed that the streets, in the immediate vicinity of the minister's house, contained more than ten thousand of the curious and idle men, women, and children, of the city and adjacent country.

"At about eight o'clock," says Dr. Rush, "our family, consisting of Mrs. Rush, our cousin, Susan Hall, our sister Sukey, and myself, with our good neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Henry, entered the apartment provided for this splendid entertainment. We were received through a wide gate, by the minister, and conducted by one of his family to the dancing room. The scene now almost exceeded description. The numerous lights distributed through the garden, the splendor of the room we were approaching, the size of the company which was already collected, and which consisted of about seven hundred persons, the brilliancy and variety of their dresses, and the band of music, which had just begun to play, had together an effect which resembled enchantment. Sukey Stockton said, her mind was carried beyond and out of itself.' Here were ladies and gentlemen of the most ancient as well as of the most modern families. Here were lawyers, doctors, and ministers of the Gospel. Here were the learned faculty of the college, and among them many who knew not whether Cicero plead in Latin or in Greek, or whether Horace was a Roman or a Scotchman. Here were painters and musicians, poets and philosophers, and men who were never moved by beauty or harmony, or by rhyme or reason. Here were the president and members of Congress, governors of states, generals of armies, and the ministers of finance, war, and foreign affairs. The company was mixed, but the mixture formed the harmony of the evening. The whole assembly behaved to each other as if they had been members of the same family. It was impossible to partake of the joy without being struck with the occasion of it: it was to celebrate the birth of a Dauphin of France." The Doctor indulges in some agreeable reflections

on the change of feeling toward France, induced by her recent assistance against Great Britain, which this imposing festival illustrated and confirmed; and he then proceeds to describe the groups into which the vast assembly naturally divided itself. "Here," he says, "were to be seen heroes and patriots in close conversation with each other; Washington and Dickinson held several dialogues together; Rutledge and Walton, from the south, here conversed with Lincoln and Duane, from the east and the north; and Mifflin and Reed accosted each other, with all the kindness of ancient friends." At half-past eight o'clock commenced the dancing; at nine, there was an exhibition of fire-works; at twelve, in three large tents, in the adjacent grounds, was served the supper; and before three in the morning, the whole company had separated and the lights were extinguished.

VII.

THE famous belle, Miss Vining,* in a letter to Governor Dickinson, in 1783, complains that Philadelphia had lost all its gayety

* Miss Vining, in 1783, was twenty-five years of age. Miss Montgomery, in her "Reminis cences of Wilmington," says her rare beauty and graceful form commanded admiration, and her intellectual endowments—a mind stored with historical knowledge, and sparkling effusions of wit-entertained the literati and amused the gay. The singular fluency and elegance with which she spoke the French language, with her vivacity, grace, and amiability, had made her a general favorite with the French officers, who praised her in their home correspondence to such a degree that her name became familiar in Paris, and the queen, Marie Antoinette, spoke of her with enthusiasm, to Mr. Jefferson, expressing a wish that she might some time see her at the Tuileries. The intimate friendships she formed during the Revolution were preserved after the peace, by a large correspondence with distinguished men. Lafayette appears to have been very much attached to her, and she wrote to him frequently until she died. Foreigners of rank rarely visited Wilmington, after Miss Vining's retirement from the society of Philadelphia, without soliciting an introduction to her. Among her guests were the Duke de Liancourt, the Duke of Orleans (Louis Philippe), and many others; and it is related that General Miranda, passing through the town in a mail-coach, at night, left his card for her at the post-office. The death of her brother, a man of eminent abilities, who was chosen at an early age a member of Congress from Delaware, was followed by a series of misfortunes, and retiring from the gay world, in the maturity of her charms, she passed the closing years of her life in poverty and seclusion

with the removal of Congress from the city, but adds, "You know however, that here alone can be found a truly intellectual and refined society, such as one naturally expects in the capital of a great country." Miss Franks, who was not less celebrated, for her wit, and the dashing gayety of her manners, agreed with Miss Vining as to the superiority of the men and women of Philadelphia, and in an autograph letter of hers which is before me, written while on Long Island, and addressed to her elder sister, the wife of Andrew Hamilton, of "Woodlands," west of the Schuylkill, she presents us with a graphic and amusing description of the higher social life of New York, with the contrasts it offered to that in her own city. This letter, though so long, is at the same time so unique and piquant that I copy it nearly entire:

"You will think I have taken up my abode for the summer at Mrs. Van Horne's, but on the contrary, this day I return to the disagreeable, hot town, much against my will, and the inclination of the family. I cannot however bear papa's being so much alone, and he will not be persuaded to quit the city, though I am sure he can have no business to keep him there. Two nights he staid with us, which is all I have seen of him since I left home. I am quite angry with him. I have written you several times these two weeks; so you can have no cause to complain, unless it is of being too often troubled with my nonsense.

"You ask a description of the Miss Van Horne who was with me-Cornelia. She is in disposition as fine a girl as ever you saw, with a great deal of good humor and good sense. Her person is too large for a beauty, in my opinion, and yet I am not partial to little women; her complexion, eyes, and teeth, are very good; and she has a great quantity of light brown hair (entre nous, the girls of New York excel us Philadelphians in that particular, and in their forms), a sweet countenance and an agreeable smile......

Her sister Kitty is the belle of the family, I think, though some give the preference to Betsey.... Kitty's form is much in the style. of our admired Mrs. Galloway, but she is rather taller and largerher complexion very fine, and the finest hair I ever saw. Her teeth are beginning to decay, which is the case with most New York girls, after eighteen. She has a great deal of elegance of manners. By the bye, few ladies here know how to entertain company in their own houses, unless they introduce the card-table. Except the Van Hornes, who are remarkable for their good sense and ease, I don't know a woman or girl who can chat above half an hour, and that on the form of a cap, the color of a ribbon, or the set of a hoop, stay, or jupon. I will do our ladies-that is, the Philadelphians-the justice to say, that they have more cleverness in the turn of an eye, than those of New York have in their whole composition. With what ease have I seen a Chew, a Penn, an Oswald, an Allen, and a thousand others, entertain a large circle of both sexes, the conversation, without the aid of cards, never flagging nor seeming in the least strained or stupid. Here—or, more properly speaking, in New York-you enter the room with a formal, set curtsy, and after the how-dos, things are finished; all's a dead calm till the cards are introduced, when you see pleasure dancing in the eyes of all the matrons, and they seem to gain new life. The maidens, if they have favorite swains, frequently decline playing, for the pleasure of making love; for to all appearance it is the ladies, not the gentlemen, who nowadays show a preference. It is here, I fancy, always leap-year. For my part, who am used to quite another style of behavior, I cannot help showing surprise -perhaps they call it ignorance-when I see a lady single out her pet, and lean almost into his arms, at an assembly or a play-house, (which I give my honor I have too often seen both with the married and single), or hear one confess a partiality for a man, whom,