country so astonishing as the United States is very different from a
Chinaman; the tourist should reconcile himself to that deep truth. It is
desolating to think that a second visit will reveal to me the blindness,
the distortions, and the wrong-headedness of my first. But even as a
Chinaman I did notice subtle differences between New York and Chicago.
As one who was brought up in a bleak and uncanny climate, where soft
coal is in universal use, I at once felt more at home in Chicago than I
could ever do in New York. The old instinct to wash the hands and change
the collar every couple of hours instantly returned to me in Chicago,
together with the old comforting conviction that a harsh climate is a
climate healthy for body and spirit. And, because it is laden with soot,
the air of Chicago is a great mystifier and beautifier. Atmospheric
effects may be seen there that are unobtainable without the combustion
of soft coal. Talk, for example, as much as you please about the
electric sky-signs of Broadway--not all of them together will write as
much poetry on the sky as the single word "Illinois" that hangs without
a clue to its suspension in the murky dusk over Michigan Avenue. The
visionary aspects of Chicago are incomparable.

[Illustration: A WINTER MORNING IN LINCOLN PARK, CHICAGO]

Another difference, of quite another order, between New York and
Chicago is that Chicago is self-conscious. New York is not; no
metropolis ever is. You are aware of the self-consciousness of Chicago
as soon as you are aware of its bitumen. The quality demands sympathy,
and wins it by its wistfulness. Chicago is openly anxious about its
soul. I liked that. I wish I could see a livelier anxiety concerning the
municipal soul in certain cities of Europe.

Perhaps the least subtle difference between New York and Chicago springs