When on the 23d of October, 1781, three hours before sunrise, a watchman called through the quiet streets of Philadelphia, “Past three o’clock, and Lord Cornwallis is taken,” the city awoke to a refreshing sense of safety and exhilaration. The war was not over; but victory was assured, and, with it, life and liberty. There remained the pursuit of happiness, and it was undertaken in good faith, and without undue delay. A sober and sedate community, kept in order by Quaker dominance, Philadelphians had always shown a singular capacity for enjoying themselves when they had the chance. They had danced twelve hours at the Mischianza,—a notable achievement. They had promoted horse-racing, condoned bull-baiting, and had been “decently drunk” from time to time at punch parties on the river. Now, deeming pleasure to be one approach to happiness, they opened the old Southwark theatre, which had led a life of sore vicissitudes, rechristened it cautiously the Academy of Polite Science, and gave a performance of Beaumarchais’s “Eugénie,” in honour of Washington, who graced the occasion with his presence. He was escorted to his box by attendants bearing wax candles in silver candlesticks, a deferential courtesy which made him distinctly and desirably visible to the audience in the dimly lit theatre. [Illustration: Soldier] Nothing in the way of entertainment came amiss to people whose hearts were at ease, and who were unspoiled by wealth or poverty. They went to Washington’s rigidly formal receptions. They danced as gaily, if not as long, at the Assembly balls, and at the less august tradesmen’s balls, as they had danced at the Mischianza and at the Fête du Dauphin. They dined well with such hosts as Robert Morris and William Bingham. They opened hospitable doors to strangers, who sometimes thought them dull; “the men grave, the women serious,” wrote Brissot de Warville in 1788. They feasted on Christmas Day, and they built bonfires on the Fourth of July. They rode to hounds. They began the long career of parades and processions which have always been dear to the city’s heart, and which the famous New Year Mummers have by now carried to the wonder point of gaiety, brilliancy, and burlesque.