On my way into Cleveland I read in the Pittsburg Post the following statistics of life at Princeton College, of the students at the College:
184 men smoke.
76 began after entering College, but 51 students have stopped smoking since entering College.
91 students wear glasses, and 57 began to wear them since entering.
15 students chew tobacco.
19 students consider dancing immoral.
16 students consider card-playing immoral.
206 students correspond with a total of 579 girls.
203 students claim to have kissed girls in their time.
24 students have proposed and been rejected.
Another day I read in the New York American the story of the adventures of Watts's "Love and Life" in America:
The peripatetic painting, "Love and Life," the beautiful allegorical work, by George Frederick Watts, once more reposes in an honoured niche in the White House. The varied career of this painting in regard to White House residence extends over seventeen years.
This picture, painted in 1884, was presented to the national Government by Watts as a tribute of his esteem and respect for the United States, and was accepted by virtue of a special act of Congress. This was during the second administration of President Cleveland, and he ordered it hung in his study on the second floor of the White House. Two replicas were made by Watts of the painting, and one was placed by the National Art Gallery, London, and the other in the Louvre, Paris.
The two figures of "Love and Life" are entirely nude, and the publication of reproductions awoke the protests of purists who circulated petitions to which they secured hundreds of names to have it removed to an art gallery. Finally, the Clevelands yielded to the force of public opinion, and sent the offending masterpiece to the Corcoran Art Gallery.
When Theodore Roosevelt became President he brought the art exile back to the White House. The hue and cry arose again, and he sent it back to the Gallery, only to bring it back again toward the close of his administration to hang in the White House once more.
The Tafts, failing to see the artistic side of the painting, had it carried back to the Gallery.
There it seemed destined to stay. The other day Mrs. Woodrow Wilson, accompanied by her daughter Eleanor, both artists of merit, toured the Corcoran Art Gallery. They were shown "Love and Life," and told the tragic story of its wanderings.
Mrs. Wilson thereupon requested the painting to be returned to the White House. There once more it hangs and tells its immortal lesson of how love can help life up the steepest hills.
Whilst in New York I visited the charming Fabians, who were the hosts of Maxim Gorky before the American Press took upon itself the rôle of doing the honours of the house to a guest of genius. The story of Gorky need not be repeated. But it is in itself a question-mark raised against the American civilisation.
Tramping through Sandusky I came upon a suburban house all scrawled over with chalk inscriptions:
"Hurrah for the newly-weds."
"Oh, you beautiful doll!"
"Well! Then what?"
"We should worry."
"Home, sweet Home."
"May your troubles be little ones! Ha, He!"
"You thought we wouldn't guess, but we caught you."