nd
paraphrased almost bodily as the preface to my volume of verses, The
Golden Whales of California. "I Know All This When Gipsy Fiddles Cry," a
song of some length recently published in the New Republic and the London
Nation, further expresses the sentiment of this chapter in what I hope is
a fraternal way, and I hope suggests the day when California will have
power over India, Asia, and all the world, and plant giant redwood trees
of the spirit the world around.

Chapter XVII--Progress and Endowment. I allow this discourse, also, to
stand as written in 1914 and '15. It shows the condition just before the
war, better than any new words of mine could do it. The main change now
is the growing hope of a backing, not only from Universities, but great
Art Museums.

Chapter XVIII--Architects as Crusaders. The sermon in this chapter has
been carried out on a limited scale, and as a result of the suggestion,
or from pure American instinct, we now have handsome gasoline filling
stations from one end of America to the other, and really gorgeous Ford
garages. Our Union depots and our magazine stands in the leading hotels,
and our big Soda fountains are more and more attractive all the time.
Having recited of late about twice around the United States and,
continuing the pilgrimage, I can testify that they are all alike from New
York to San Francisco. One has to ask the hotel clerk to find out whether
it is New York or ----. And the motion picture discipline of the American
eye has had a deal to do with this increasing tendency to news-stand and
architectural standardization and architectural thinking, such as it is.
But I meant this suggestion to go further, and to be taken in a higher
sense, so I ask these people to read this chapter again. I have carried
out the idea, in a parable, perhaps more clearly in The Golden Book of
Springfield, when I speak of the World's Fair of the University of
Springfield, to be built one hundred years hence. And I would recommend
to those who have already taken seriously chapter eighteen, to reread it
in two towns, amply worth the car fare it costs to go to both of them.
First, Santa Fe, New Mexico, at the end of the Santa Fe Trail, the oldest
city in the United States, the richest in living traditions, and with the
oldest and the newest architecture in the United States; not a stone or a
stick of it standardized, a city with a soul, Jerusalem and Mecca and
Benares and Thebes for any artist or any