The Athens of the West. That's what they called Philadelphia in the late 18th century, a thriving metropolis that was the economic, cultural and intellectual capital of the United States. For a brief time, it was the national capital as well. That city, now, is nowhere to be seen.

Thomas H. Keels chronicles three centuries worth of buildings that are gone. (It's not written here, but the house where Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence was demolished; this is indicative of Philadelphia's treatment of its past).

This is a lavishly illustrated, tightly written coffee- table book, full of fascinating nuggets such as this: an early town hall was combined with the city's market house, an ancient British tradition. It was also where voters cast ballots.

In a 1742 election, supporters of the royal governor hired sailors to prevent the opposing side from voting.

"Proprietary partisans, mostly Quakers, used fists, sticks, stones and clubs to drive the sailors back to their ships."

Quakers brawling! You don't read too many accounts of that happening.

Another anecdote is how one of the most prolific movie production studios in the silent film era was headquartered in Philadelphia.

Also gone are Benjamin Franklin's house and the residence where George Washington lived while serving as the country's first president. The fact that Independence Hall survived is miraculous.

Buildings designed by architects such as Frank Furness and Louis Kahn exist now only in photographs (although a few were not exactly their best works).

By the mid-19th century, Philadelphia had taken a back seat to New York as the country's leading city. Then, Keels writes, "Philadelphia industry, nourished by the military contracts during the Civil War, flourished with Reconstruction and postwar expansion.

"By 1870, Philadelphia had the most factories of any U.S. city and led the nation in the production of steam engines, locomotives, textiles and steel ships. It was also a major manufacturer of rugs, hats, sugar, cigars and beer."

The Pennsylvania Railroad, headquartered in Philadelphia, was one of the largest corporations in the world, with 60,000 employees. Its Broad Street Station, designed in part by Furness, was the largest passenger railroad terminal in the world, with 450 trains arriving and departing daily.

What happened to all that progress?

"Sadly, Philadelphia dynamic physical growth contrasted with a corresponding ossification in civic affairs. As municipal governments became the exclusive property of political bosses and party hacks, corruption and mismanagement grew endemic," writes Keels, who added, "the Athens of the West was now just another big city."

In 1876, a centennial celebration, which was controlled by private interests, not the government, was a huge success. But the new facilities to accommodate the events were torn down. It was possibly the city's last chance to be the leading metropolis of the nation.

A sesquicentennial celebration in 1926 and the bicentennial celebrations 50 years later were dismal failures.

Many 19th-century Victorian buildings, such as hotels, mansions built by the industrial barons, banks and public edifices were torn down in the 1950s when two crucial events took place:

After decades of Republican rule, reform-minded Democrats controlled City Hall, and Keels suggests that one way for them to symbolically break the Republican control was to get rid of its images, so many buildings were cleared away.

The other was urban renewal. Planners such as Edmund Bacon wanted to re-create the city's central corridor, eliminating blight with modern skyscrapers that would attract new jobs back to the city. For these plans to work, much would have to go.

Additionally, when the nation's interstate highway system was constructed, more than 130 historic homes and buildings in Philadelphia were torn down to accommodate Interstate 95.

Give credit to Keels for not focusing on palatial or "important works." Instead, he writes about many of the factories, public housing projects and bridges (which included a suspension bridge over the Schuylkill River, which became a prototype for the Brooklyn Bridge).

Nothing lasts forever. Every city has lost some of its architectural treasures or historic sites, but it appears Philadelphia has lost more than most cities. Thanks to Keels' effort, those lost buildings won't be forgotten.