The State-house is, I believe, famous. It is a big building, a great

deal has been spent on it in the way of ornamentation, and it enjoys the

distinction of the highest State-honse dome in the country—350 feet. It

has the merit also of being well placed on an elevation, and its

rooms are spacious and very well planned. It is an incongruous pile

externally, mixing many styles of architecture, placing Corinthian

capitals on Doric columns, and generally losing the impression of a

dignified mass in details. Within, it is especially rich in wall-casings

of beautiful and variegated marbles, each panel exquisite, but all

together tending to dissipate any idea of unity of design or simplicity.

Nothing whatever can be said for many of the scenes in relief, or the

mural paintings (except that they illustrate the history of the State),

nor for most of the statues in the corridors, but the decoration of the

chief rooms, in mingling of colors and material, is frankly barbarous.

Illinois has the reputation of being slow in matters of education and

reform. A day in the State offices, however, will give the visitor an

impression of intelligence and vigor in these directions. The office of

the State Board of Pharmacy in the Capitol shows a strict enforcement of

the law in the supervision of drugs and druggists. Prison management has

also most intelligent consideration. The two great penitentiaries, the

Southern, at Chester (with about 800 convicts), and the Northern, at

Joliet (with about 1600 convicts), call for no special comment. The

one at Joliet is a model of its kind, with a large library, and such

schooling as is practicable in the system, and is well administered;

and I am glad to see that Mr. McClaughry, the warden, believes that

incorrigibles should be permanently held, and that grading, the

discipline of labor and education, with a parole system, can make

law-abiding citizens of many convicts.

In school education the State is certainly not supine in efforts. Out

of a State population of about 8,500,000, there were, in 1887, 1,627,841

under twenty-one years, and 1,096,464 between the ages of six

and twenty-one. The school age for free attendance is from six to

twenty-one; for compulsory attendance, from eight to fourteen. There

were 749,994 children enrolled, and 500,197 in daily attendance. Those

enrolled in private schools numbered 87,725. There were 2258 teachers in

private schools, and 22,925 in public schools; of this latter, 7402 were

men and 15,403 women. The average monthly salary of men was $51.48,

and of women $42.17. The sum available for school purposes in 1887 was

$12,890,515, in an assessed value of taxable property of $797,752,888.

These figures are from Dr. X. W. Edwards, Superintendent of Public

Instruction, whose energy is felt In every part of the State.

The State prides itself on its institutions of charity. I saw some of

them at Jacksonville, an hour’s ride west of Springfield. Jacksonville

is a very pretty city of some 15,000, with elm-shaded avenues that crest

but do not rival New Haven—one of those intellectual centres that are

a continual surprise to our English friends in their bewildered

exploration of our monotonous land. In being the Western centre of

Platonic philosophy, it is more like Concord than like New Haven. It

is the home of a large number of people who have travelled, who give

intelligent attention to art, to literary study in small societies and

clubs—its Monday Evening Club of men long antedated most of the similar

institutions at the East—and to social problems. I certainly did not

expect to find, as I did, water-colors by Turner in Jacksonville,

besides many other evidences of a culture that must modify many Eastern

ideas of what the West is and is getting to be.

The Illinois College is at Jacksonville. It is one of twenty-five small

colleges in the State, and I believe the only one that adheres to the

old curriculum, and does not adopt co-education. It has about sixty

students in the college proper, and about one hundred and thirty in

the preparatory academy. Most of the Illinois colleges have preparatory

departments, and so long as they do, and the various sects scatter their

energies among so many institutions, the youth of the State who wish a

higher education will be obliged to go East. The school perhaps the most

vigorous just now is the University of Illinois, at Urbana, a school

of agriculture and applied science mainly. The Central Hospital for the

Insane (one of three in the State), under the superintendence of Dr.

Henry F. Carriel, is a fine establishment, a model of neatness and good

management, with over nine hundred patients, about a third of whom do

some light work on the farm or in the house. A large conservatory of

plants and flowers is rightly regarded as a remedial agency in the

treatment of the patients. Here also is a fine school for the education

of the blind.

The Institution for the Education of Deaf-Mutes, Dr. Philip H. Gillette,

superintendent, is, I believe, the largest in the world, and certainly

one of the most thoroughly equipped and successful in its purposes. It

has between five hundred and six hundred pupils. All the departments

found in many other institutions are united here. The school has a

manual training department; articulation is taught; the art school

exhibits surprising results in aptitude for both drawing and painting;

and industries are taught to the extent of giving every pupil a trade

or some means of support—shoemaking, cabinet-making, printing, sewing,

gardening, and baking.

Such an institution as this raises many interesting questions. It is

at once evident that the loss of the sense of hearing has an effect on

character, moral and intellectual. Whatever may be the education of

the deaf-mute, he will remain, in some essential and not easily to be

characterized respects, different from other people. It is exceedingly

hard to cultivate in them a spirit of self-dependence, or eradicate the

notion that society owes them perpetual care and support. The education

of deaf-mutes, and the teaching them trades, so that they become

intelligent and productive members of society, of course induce

marriages among them. Is not this calculated to increase the number

of deaf-mutes? Dr. Gillette thinks not. The vital statistics show that

consanguineous marriages are a large factor in deaf-muteism; about

ten per cent., it is estimated, of the deaf-mutes are the offspring of

parents related by blood. Ancestral defects are not always perpetuated

in kind; they may descend in physical deformity, in deafness, in

imbecility. Deafness is more apt to descend in collateral branches than

in a straight line. It is a striking fact in a table of relationships

prepared by Dr. Gillette that, while the 450 deaf-mutes enumerated had

770 relationships to other deaf-mutes, making a total of 1220, only

twelve of them had deaf-mute parents, and only two of them one deaf-mute

parent, the mother of these having been able to hear, and that in no

case was the mother alone a deaf-mute. Of the pupils who have left this

institution, 251 have married deaf-mutes, and 19 hearing persons. These

marriages have been as fruitful as the average, and among them all only

sixteen have deaf-mute children; in some of the families having a deaf

child there are other children who hear. These facts, says the report,

clearly indicate that the probability of deaf offspring from deaf

parentage is remote, while other facts may clearly indicate that a deaf

person probably has or will have a deaf relation other than a child.

Springfield is old enough to have a historic flavor and social

traditions; perhaps it might be called a Kentucky flavor, so largely did

settlers from Kentucky determine it. There was a leisurely element in

it, and it produced a large number of men prominent in politics and in

the law, and women celebrated for beauty and spirit. It was a hospitable

society, with a certain tone of “family” that distinguished it from

other frontier places, a great liking for the telling of racy stories,

and a hearty enjoyment of life. The State has provided a Gubernatorial

residence which is at once spacious and pleasant, and is a mansion, with

its present occupants, typical in a way of the old regime and of modern

culture.

To the country at large Springfield is distinguished as the home of

Abraham Lincoln to an extent perhaps not fully realized by the residents

of the growing capital, with its ever new interests. And I was perhaps

unreasonably disappointed in not finding that sense of his personality

that I expected. It is, indeed, emphasized by statues in the Capitol and

by the great mausoleum in the cemetery—an imposing structure, with an

excellent statue in bronze, and four groups, relating to the civil war,

of uncommon merit. But this great monumental show does not satisfy the

personal longing of which I speak. Nor is the Lincoln residence much

more satisfactory in this respect. The plain two-story wooden house has

been presented to the State by his son Robert, and is in charge of

a custodian. And although the parlor is made a show-room and full of

memorials, there is no atmosphere of the man about it. On Lincoln’s

departure for Washington the furniture was sold and the house rented,

never to be again occupied by him. There is here nothing of that

personal presence that clings to the Hermitage, to Marshfield, to Mount

Vernon, to Monticello. Lincoln was given to the nation, and—a frequent

occurrence in our uprooting business life—the home disappeared. Lincoln

was honored and beloved in Springfield as a man, but perhaps some of

the feeling towards him as a party leader still lingers, although it has

disappeared almost everywhere else in the country. Nowhere else was the

personal partisanship hotter than in this city, and it is hardly to be

expected that political foes in this generation should quite comprehend

the elevation of Lincoln, in the consenting opinion of the world, among

the greatest characters of all ages. It has happened to Lincoln that

every year and a more intimate knowledge of his character have added

to his fame and to the appreciation of his moral grandeur. There is

a natural desire to go to some spot pre-eminently sacred to his

personality. This may be his birthplace. At any rate, it is likely that

before many years Kentucky will be proud to distinguish in some way

the spot where the life began of the most illustrious man born in its

borders.

When we come to the capital of Indiana we have, in official language,

to report progress. One reason assigned for the passing of emigrants

through Indiana to Illinois was that the latter was a prairie country,

more easily subdued than the more wooded region of Indiana. But it is

also true that the sluggish, illiterate character of its early occupants

turned aside the stream of Western emigration from its borders. There

has been a great deal of philosophic speculation upon the acknowledged

backwardness of civilization in Indiana, its slow development in

institutions of education, and its slow change in rural life, compared

with its sister States. But this concerns us less now than the awakening

which is visible at the capital and in some of the northern towns.

The forests of hard timber which were an early disadvantage are now an

important element in the State industry and wealth. Recent developments

of coal-fields and the discovery of natural gas have given an impetus to

manufacturing, which will powerfully stimulate agriculture and traffic,

and open a new career to the State.

Indianapolis, which stood still for some years in a reaction from

real-estate speculation, is now a rapidly improving city, with a

population of about 125,000. It is on the natural highway of the old

National Turnpike, and its central location in the State, in the midst

of a rich agricultural district, has made it the centre of fifteen

railway lines, and of active freight and passenger traffic. These lines

are all connected for freight purposes by a belt road, over which pass

about 5000 freight cars daily. This belt road also does an enormous

business for the stock-yards, and its convenient line is rapidly

filling up with manufacturing establishments. As a consequence of these

facilities the trade of the city in both wholesale and retail houses is

good and increasing. With this increase of business there has been an

accession of banking capital. The four national and two private

banks have an aggregate capital of about three millions, and the

Clearing-house report of 1887 showed a business of about one hundred

millions, an increase of nearly fifty per cent, over the preceding year.

But the individual prosperity is largely due to the building and loan

associations, of which there are nearly one hundred, with an aggregate

capital of seven millions, the loans of which exceed those of the

banks. These take the place of savings-banks, encourage the purchase

of homesteads, and are preventives of strikes and labor troubles in the

factories.

The people of Indianapolis call their town a Park City. Occupying a

level plain, its streets (the principal ones with a noble width of

ninety feet) intersect each other at right angles; but in the centre of

the city is a Circle Park of several acres, from which radiate to the

four quarters of the town avenues ninety feet broad that relieve the

monotony of the right lines. These streets are for the most part well

shaded, and getting to be well paved, lined with pleasant but not

ambitious residences, so that the whole aspect of the city is open and

agreeable. The best residences are within a few squares of the most

active business streets, and if the city has not the distinction of

palaces, it has fewer poor and shabby quarters than most other towns

of its size. In the Circle Park, Here now stands a statue of Governor

Morton, is to be erected immediately the Soldiers’ Monument, at a cost

of $250,000.

The city is fortunate in its public buildings. The County Court-house

(which cost $1,000,000) and City Hall are both fine buildings; in the

latter are the city markets, and above, a noble auditorium with seats

for 4000 people. But the State Capitol, just finished within the

appropriation of $2,000,000, is pre-eminent among State Capitols in

many respects. It is built of the Bedford limestone, one of the best

materials both for color and endurance found in the country. It

follows the American plan of two wings and a dome; but it is finely

proportioned; and the exterior, with rows of graceful Corinthian columns

above the basement story, is altogether pleasing. The interior is

spacious and impressive, the Chambers fine, the furnishing solid and in

good taste, with nowhere any over-ornamentation or petty details to

mar the general noble effect. The State Library contains, besides the

law-books, about 20,000 miscellaneous volumes.

When Matthew Arnold first came to New York the place in the West about

which he expressed the most curiosity was Indianapolis; that he said he

must see, if no other city. He had no knowledge of the place, and could

give no reason for his preference except that the name had always had

a fascination for him. He found there, however, a very extensive

book-store, where his own works were sold in numbers that pleased and

surprised him. The shop has a large miscellaneous stock, and does a

large jobbing and retail business, but the miscellaneous books dealt

in are mostly cheap reprints of English works, with very few American

copyright books. This is a significant comment on the languishing

state of the market for works of American authors in the absence of an

international copyright law.

The city is not behind any other in educational efforts. In its five

free public libraries are over 70,000 volumes. The city has a hundred

churches and a vigorous Young Men’s Christian Association, which cost

$75,000. Its private schools have an excellent reputation. There are

20,000 children registered of school age, and 11,000 in daily attendance

in twenty-eight free-school houses. In methods of efficacy these are

equal to any in the Union, as is shown by the fact that there are

reported in the city only 325 persons between the ages of six and

twenty-one unable to read and write. The average cost of instruction for

each pupil is $19.04 a year. In regard to advanced methods and manual

training, Indianapolis schools claim to be pioneers.

The latest reports show educational activity in the State as well as in

the capital. In 1880 the revenues expended in public schools were about

$5,000,000. The State supports the Indiana University at Bloomington,

with about 300 students, the Agricultural College at Lafayette, with

over 300, and a normal school at Terre Haute, with an attendance of

about 500. There are, besides, seventeen private colleges and several

other normal schools. In 1886 the number of school-children enrolled

in the State was 500,000, of whom 340,000 were in daily attendance.

To those familiar with Indiana these figures show a greatly increased

interest in education.

Several of the State benevolent institutions are in Indianapolis: a

hospital for the insane, which cost $1,200,000, and accommodates 1000

patients; an asylum for the blind, which has 132 pupils; and a school

for deaf-mutes which cost $500,000, and has about 400 scholars. The

novel institution, however, that I saw at Indianapolis is a reformatory

for women and girls, controlled entirely by women. The board of trustees

are women, the superintendent, physician, and keepers are women. In one

building, but in separate departments, were the female convicts, 42 in

number, several of them respectable-looking elderly women who had

killed their husbands, and about 150 young girls. The convicts and the

girls—who are committed for restraint and reform—never meet except in

chapel, but it is more than doubtful if it is wise for the State to

subject girls to even this sort of contiguity with convicts, and to the

degradation of penitentiary suggestions. The establishment is very neat

and well ordered and well administered. The work of the prison is done

by the convicts, who are besides kept employed at sewing and in the

laundry. The girls in the reformatory work half a day, and are in school

the other half.

This experiment of the control of a State-prison by women is regarded as

doubtful by some critics, who say that women will obey a man when they

will not obey a woman. Female convicts, because they have fallen lower

than men, or by reason of their more nervous organization, are commonly

not so easily controlled as male convicts, and it is insisted that they

indulge in less “tantrums” under male than under female authority.

This is denied by the superintendent of this prison, though she has

incorrigible cases who can only be controlled by solitary confinement.

She has daily religious exercises, Bible reading and exposition, and a

Sunday-school; and she doubts if she could control the convicts without

this religious influence. It not only has a daily quieting effect,

but has resulted in several cases in “conversion.” There are in

the institution several girls and women of color, and I asked the

superintendent if the white inmates exhibited any prejudice against

them on account of their color. To my surprise, the answer was that the

contrary is the case. The whites look up to the colored girls, and seem

either to have a respect for them or to be fascinated by them. This

surprising statement was supplemented by another, that the influence of

the colored girls on the whites is not good; the white girl who seeks

the company of the colored girl deteriorates, and the colored girl does

not change.

Indianapolis, which is attractive by reason of a climate that avoids

extremes, bases its manufacturing and its business prosperity upon the

large coal-beds lying to the west and south of it, the splendid and very

extensive quarries of Bedford limestone contiguous to the coal-fields,

the abundant supply of various sorts of hard-wood for the making of

furniture, and the recent discovery of natural gas. The gas-field

region, which is said to be very much larger than any other in the

country, lies to the north-west, and comes within eight miles of the

city. Pipes are already laid to the city limits, and the whole heating

and manufacturing of the city will soon be done by the gas. I saw this

fuel in use in a large and successful pottery, where are made superior

glazed and encaustic tiles, and nothing could be better for the purpose.

The heat in the kilns is intense; it can be perfectly regulated; as fuel

the gas is free from smoke and smut, and its cost is merely nominal. The

excitement over this new agent is at present extraordinary. The field

where it has been found is so extensive as to make the supply seem

inexhaustible. It was first discovered in Indiana at Eaton, in Delaware

County, in 1880. From January 1, 1887, to February, 1888, it is reported

that 1000 wells were opened in the gas territory, and that 245 companies

were organized for various manufactures, with an aggregate capital

of $25,000,000. Whatever the figures may he, there are the highest

expectations of immense increase of manufactures in Indianapolis and in

all the gas region. Of some effects of this revolution in fuel we may

speak when we come to the gas wells of Ohio.

I had conceived of Columbus as a rural capital, pleasant and slow,

rather a village than a city. I was surprised to find a city of 80,000

people, growing with a rapidity astonishing even for a Western town,

with miles of prosperous business blocks (High Street is four miles

long), and wide avenues of residences extending to suburban parks. Broad

Street, with its four rows of trees and fine houses and beautiful lawns,

is one of the handsomest avenues in the country, and it is only one

of many that are attractive. The Capitol Square, with several good

buildings about it, makes an agreeable centre of the city. Of the

Capitol building not much is to be said. The exterior is not wholly bad,

but it is surmounted by a truncated something that is neither a dome nor

a revolving turret, and the interior is badly arranged for room, light,

and ventilation. Space is wasted, and many of the rooms, among them the

relic-room and the flag-room, are inconvenient and almost inaccessible.

The best is the room of the Supreme Court, which has attached a large

law library. The general State Library contains about 54,000 volumes,

with a fair but not large proportion of Western history.

Columbus is a city of churches, of very fine public schools, of

many clubs, literary and social, in which the intellectual element

predominates, and of an intelligent, refined, and most hospitable

society. Here one may study the educational and charitable institutions

of the State, many of the more important of which are in the city,

and also the politics. It was Ohio’s hard fate to be for many years

an “October State,” and the battle-field and corruption-field of many

outside influences. This no doubt demoralized the politics of the State,

and lowered the tone of public morality. With the removal of the cause

of this decline, I believe the tone is being raised. Recent trials for

election frauds, and the rehabilitation of the Cincinnati police, show

that a better spirit prevails.

Studies in the South and West, with Comments on Canada · 第 16 / 32 段