by two remarkable institutions. The one is the old St. Louis University,
and the other is the Christian Brothers’ College. The latter, which a
few years ago outgrew its old buildings in the city, has a fine pile of
buildings at Côte Brillante, on a commanding site about five miles out,
with ample grounds, and in the neighborhood of the great parks and the
Botanical Garden. The character of the school is indicated by the motto
on the façade of the building—Religio, Mores, Cultura. The institution
is designed to accommodate a thousand boarding students. The present
attendance is 450, about half of whom are boarders, and represent twenty
States. There is a corps of thirty-five professors, and three courses of
study are maintained—the classical, the scientific, and the commercial.
As several of the best parochial schools are in charge of Christian
Brothers, these schools are feeders of the college, and the pupils have
the advantage of an unbroken system with a consistent purpose from the
day they enter into the primary department till they graduate at the
college. The order has, at Glencoe, a large Normal School for the
training of teachers. The fame and success of the Christian Brothers
as educators in elementary and the higher education, in Europe and the
United States, is largely due to the fact that they labor as a unit in
a system that never varies in its methods of imparting instruction,
in which the exponents of it have all undergone the same pedagogic
training, in which there is no room for the personal fancy of the
teacher in correction, discipline, or scholarship, for everything is
judiciously governed by prescribed modes of procedure, founded on long
experience, and exemplified in the co-operative plan of the Brothers.
In vindication of the exceptional skill acquired by its teachers in the
thorough drill of the order, the Brotherhood points to the success of
its graduates in competitive examinations for public employment in this
country and in Europe, and to the commendation its educational exhibits
received at London and New Orleans.
The St. Louis University, founded in 1829 by members of the Society of
Jesus, and chartered in 1834, is officered and controlled by the Jesuit
Fathers. It is an unendowed institution, depending upon fees paid
for tuition. Before the war its students were largely the children of
Southern planters, and its graduates are found all over the South and
South-west; and up to 1881 the pupils boarded and lodged within the
precincts of the old buildings on the corner of Ninth Street and
Washington, where for over half a century the school has vigorously
flourished. The place, which is now sold and about to be used for
business purposes, has a certain flavor of antique scholarship, and the
quaint buildings keep in mind the plain but rather pleasing architecture
of the French period. The University is in process of removal to the new
buildings on Grand avenue, which are a conspicuous ornament to one of
the most attractive parts of the city. Soon nothing will be left of
the institution on Ninth Street except the old college church, which is
still a favorite place of worship for the Catholics of the city. The new
buildings, in the early decorated English Gothic style, are ample and
imposing; they have a front of 270 feet, and the northern wing extends
325 feet westward from the avenue. The library, probably the finest room
of the kind in the West, is sixty-seven feet high, amply lighted,
and provided with three balconies. The library, which was packed for
removal, has over 25,000 volumes, is said to contain many rare and
interesting books, and to fairly represent science and literature.
Besides this, there are special libraries, open to students, of over
0000 volumes. The museum of the new building is a noble ball, one
hundred feet by sixty feet, and fifty-two feet high, without columns,
and lighted from above and from the side. The University has a valuable
collection of ores and minerals, and other objects of nature and
art that will be deposited in this hall, which will also serve as
a picture-gallery for the many paintings of historical interest.
Philosophical apparatus, a chemical laboratory, and an astronomical
observatory are the equipments on the scientific side.
The University has now no dormitories and no boarders. There are
twenty-five professors and instructors. The entire course, including the
preparatory, is seven years. A glance at the catalogue shows that in
the curriculum the institution keeps pace with the demands of the age.
Besides the preparatory course (89 pupils), it has a classical course
(143 pupils), an English course (82 pupils), and 85 post-graduate
students, making a total of 399. Its students form societies for various
purposes; one, the Sodality of the Blessed Virgin Mary, with distinct
organizations in the senior and junior classes, is for the promotion of
piety and the practice of devotion towards the Blessed Virgin; another
is for training in public speaking and philosophic and literary
disputation; there is also a scientific academy, to foster a taste for
scientific culture; and there is a student’s library of 4000 volumes,
independent of the religious books of the Sodality societies.
In a conversation with the president I learned that the prevailing idea
in the courses of study is the gradual and healthy development of
the mind. The classes are carefully graded. The classics are favorite
branches, but mental philosophy, chemistry, physics, astronomy, are
taught with a view to practical application. Much stress is laid upon
mathematics. During the whole course of seven years, one hour each day
is devoted to this branch. In short, I was impressed with the fact that
this is an institution for mental training. Still more was I struck with
the prominence in the whole course of ethical and religious culture. On
assembling every morning, all the Catholic students hear mass. In every
class in every year Christian doctrine has as prominent a place as
any branch of study; beginning in the elementary class with the small
catechism and practical instructions in the manner of reciting the
ordinary prayers, it goes on through the whole range of doctrine—creed,
evidences, ritual, ceremonial, mysteries—in the minutest details of
theory and practice; ingraining, so far as repeated instruction can,
the Catholic faith and pure moral conduct in the character, involving
instructions as to what occasions and what amusements are dangerous to
a good life, on the reading of good books and the avoiding bad books and
bad company.
In the post-graduate course, lectures are given and examinations made
in ethics, psychology, anthropology, biology, and physics; and in the
published abstracts of lectures for the past two years I find that none
of the subjects of modern doubt and speculation are ignored—spiritism,
psychical research, the cell theory, the idea of God, socialism,
agnosticism, the Noachinn deluge, theories of government, fundamental
notions of physical science, unity of the human species, potency
of matter, and so on. During the past fifty years this faculty has
contained many men famous as pulpit orators and missionaries, and this
course of lectures on philosophic and scientific subjects has brought it
prominently before the cultivated inhabitants of the town.
Another educational institution of note in St. Louis is the Concordia
Seminar of the Old Lutheran, or the Evangelical Lutheran Church. This
denomination, which originated in Saxony, and has a large membership in
our Western States, adheres strictly to the Augsburg Confession, and is
distinguished from the general Lutheran Church by greater strictness
of doctrine and practice, or, as may be said, by a return to primitive
Lutheranism; that is to say, it grounds itself upon the literal
inspiration of the Scriptures, upon salvation by faith alone, and upon
individual liberty. This Seminar is one of several related institutions
in the Synod of Missouri, Ohio, and other States: there is a college at
Fort Wayne, Indiana, a Progymnasium at Milwaukee, a Seminar of practical
theology at Springfield, Illinois, and this Seminar at St. Louis,
which is wholly devoted to theoretical theology. This Church numbers, I
believe, about 200,000 members.
The Concordia Seminar is housed in a large, commodious building,
effectively set upon high ground in the southern part of the city. It
was erected and the institution is sustained by the contributions of the
congregations. The interior, roomy, light, and commodious, is plain to
barrenness, and has a certain monastic severity, which is matched by the
discipline and the fare. In visiting it one takes a step backward into
the atmosphere and theology of the sixteenth century. The ministers of
the denomination are distinguished for learning and earnest simplicity.
The president, a very able man, only thirty-five years of age, is at
least two centuries old in his opinions, and wholly undisturbed by
any of the doubts which have agitated the Christian world since the
Reformation. He holds the faith “once for all” delivered to the saints.
The Seminar has a hundred students. It is requisite to admission, said
the president, that they be perfect Latin, Greek, and Hebrew scholars.
A large proportion of the lectures are given in Latin, the remainder in
German and English, and Latin is current in the institution, although
German is the familiar speech. The course of study is exacting, the
rules are rigid, and the discipline severe. Social intercourse with
the other sex is discouraged. The pursuit of love and learning are
considered incompatible at the same time; and if a student were
inconsiderate enough to become engaged, he would be expelled. Each
student from abroad may select or be selected by a family in the
communion, at whose house he may visit once a week, which attends to his
washing, and supplies to a certain extent the place of a home. The young
men are trained in the highest scholarship and the strictest code of
morals. I know of no other denomination which holds its members to such
primitive theology and such strictness of life. Individual liberty and
responsibility are stoutly asserted, without any latitude in belief.
It repudiates Prohibition as an infringement of personal liberty, would
make the use of wine or beer depend upon the individual conscience,
but no member of the communion would be permitted to sell intoxicating
liquors, or to go to a beer-garden or a theatre. In regard to the
sacrament of communion, there is no authority for altering the plain
directions in the Scripture, and communion without wine, or the
substitution of any concoction for wine, would be a sin. No member would
be permitted to join any labor union or secret society. The sacrament
of communion is a mystery. It is neither transubstantiation nor
consubstantiation. The president, whose use of English in subtle
distinctions is limited, resorted to Latin and German in explanation
of the mystery, but left the question of real and actual presence, of
spirit and substance, still a matter of terms; one can only say that
neither the ordinary Protestant nor the Catholic interpretation is
accepted. Conversion is not by any act or ability of man; salvation is
by faith alone. As the verbal inspiration of the Scriptures is
insisted on in all cases, the world was actually created in six days
of twenty-four hours each. When I asked the president what he did
with geology, he smiled and simply waved his hand. This communion has
thirteen flourishing churches in the city. In a town so largely German,
and with so many freethinkers as well as free-livers, I cannot but
consider this strict sect, of a simple unquestioning faith and high
moral demands, of the highest importance in the future of the city. But
one encounters with surprise, in our modern life, this revival of the
sixteenth century, which plants itself so squarely against so much that
we call “progress.”
As to the institutions of charity, I must content myself with saying
that they are many, and worthy of a great and enlightened city. There
are of all denominations 211 churches; of these the Catholics lead with
47; the Presbyterians come next with 24; and the Baptists have 22; the
Methodists North, 4; and the Methodists South, 8. The most interesting
edifices, both for associations and architecture, are the old Cathedral;
the old Christ Church (Episcopalian), excellent Gothic; and an exquisite
edifice, the Church of the Messiah (Unitarian), in Locust Street.
The city has two excellent libraries. The Public Library, an adjunct
of the public-school system, in the Polytechnic Building, has an annual
appropriation of about $14,000 from the School Board, and receives about
$5000 more from membership and other sources. It contains about 67,000
volumes, and is admirably managed. The Mercantile Library is in process
of removal into a magnificent six-story building on Broadway and Locust
Street. It is a solid and imposing structure, the first story of red
granite, and the others of brick and terra-cotta. The library and
reading-rooms are on the fifth story, the rest of the building is
rented. This association, which is forty-two years old, has 3500
members, and had an income in 1887 of $120,000, nearly all from
membership. In January, 1888, it had 68,732 volumes, and in a
circulation of over 168,000 in the year, it had the unparalleled
distinction of reducing the fiction given out to 41.95 per cent. Both
these libraries have many treasures interesting to a book-lover, and
though neither is free, the liberal, intelligent management of each has
been such as to make it a most beneficent institution for the city.
There are many handsome and stately buildings in the city, the recent
erections showing growth in wealth and taste. The Chamber of Commerce,
which is conspicuous for solid elegance, cost a million and a half
dollars. There are 3295 members of the Merchants’ Exchange. The
Court-house, with its noble dome, is as well proportioned a building as
can be found in the country. A good deal may be said for the size and
effect of the Exposition Building, which covers what was once a pretty
park at the foot of Lucas Place, and cost 6750,000. There are clubs many
and flourishing. The St. Louis Club (social) has the finest building,
an exceedingly tasteful piece of Romanesque architecture on Twenty-ninth
Street. The University Club, which is like its namesake in other cities,
has a charming old-fashioned house and grounds on Pine Street. The
Commercial Club, an organization limited in its membership to sixty,
has no club-house, but, like its namesake in Chicago, is a controlling
influence in the prosperity of the city. Representing all the leading
occupations, it is a body of men who, by character, intellect, and
wealth, can carry through any project for the public good, and which is
animated by the highest public spirit.
Of the social life of the town one is permitted to speak only in general
terms. It has many elements to make it delightful—long use in social
civilities, interest in letters and in education, the cultivation of
travel, traditions, and the refinement of intellectual pursuits. The
town has no academy of music, but there is a good deal of musical
feeling and cultivation; there is a very good orchestra, one of the very
best choruses in the country, and Verdi’s “Requiem” was recently given
splendidly. I am told by men and women of rare and special cultivation
that the city is a most satisfactory one to live in, and certainly
to the stranger its society is charming. The city has, however, the
Mississippi Valley climate—extreme heat in the summer, and trying
winters.
There is no more interesting industrial establishment in the West than
the plate-glass works at Crystal City, thirty miles south on the river.
It was built up after repeated failures and reverses—for the business,
like any other, had to be learned. The plant is very extensive, the
buildings are of the best, the machinery is that most approved, and the
whole represents a cash investment of $1,500,000. The location of the
works at this point was determined by the existence of a mountain of
sand which is quarried out like rock, and is the finest and cleanest
silica known in the country. The production is confined entirety to
plate-glass, which is cast in great slabs, twelve feet by twelve and
a half in size, each of which weighs, before it is reduced half in
thickness by grinding, smoothing, and polishing, about 750 pounds. The
product for 1887 was 1,200,000 feet. The coal used in the furnaces is
converted into gas, which is found to be the most economical and most
easily regulated fuel. This industry has drawn together a population of
about 1500. I was interested to learn that labor in the production of
this glass is paid twice as much as similar labor in England, and from
three to four times as much as similar labor in France and Belgium. As
the materials used in making plate-glass are inexpensive, the main cost,
after the plant, is in labor. Since plate-glass was first made in this
country, eighteen years ago, the price of it in the foreign market has
been continually forced down, until now it costs the American consumer
only half what it cost him before, and the jobber gets it at an average
cost of 75 cents a foot, as against the $1.50 a foot which we paid the
foreign manufacturer before the establishment of American factories.
And in these eighteen years the Government has had from this source a
revenue of over seventeen millions, at an average duty, on all sizes, of
less than 59 per cent.
Missouri is one of the greatest of our States in resources and in
promise, and it is conspicuous in the West for its variety and capacity
of interesting development. The northern portion rivals Iowa in
beautiful rolling prairie, with high divides and park-like forests; its
water communication is unsurpassed; its mineral resources are immense;
it has noble mountains as well as fine uplands and fertile valleys, and
it never impresses the traveller as monotonous. So attractive is it
in both scenery and resources that it seems unaccountable that so
many settlers have passed it by. But, first slavery, and then a rural
population disinclined to change, have stayed its development. This
state of things, however, is changing, has changed marvellously within
a few years in the northern portion, in the iron regions, and especially
in larger cities of the west, St. Joseph and Kansas City. The State
deserves a study by itself, for it is on the way to be a great empire
of most varied interests. I can only mention here one indication of
its moral progress. It has adopted a high license and local option law.
Under this the saloons are closed in nearly all the smaller villages and
country towns. A shaded map shows more than three-fourths of the area
of the State, including three-fifths of the population, free from
liquor-selling. The county court may grant a license to sell liquor to
a person of good moral character on the signed petition of a majority of
the taxpaying citizens of a township or of a city block; it must grant
it on the petition of two-thirds of the citizens. Thus positive action
is required to establish a saloon. On the map there are 76 white
counties free of saloons, 14 counties In which there are from one to
three saloons only, and 24 shaded counties which have altogether 2263
saloons, of which 1450 are in St. Louis and 520 in Kansas City. The
revenue from the saloons in St. Louis is about 8800,000, in Kansas City
about 8375,000, annually. The heavily shaded portions of the map are on
the great rivers.
Of all the wonderful towns in the West, none has attracted more
attention in the East than Kansas City. I think I am not wrong in saying
that it is largely the product of Eastern energy and capital, and that
its closest relations have been with Boston. I doubt if ever a new town
was from the start built up so solidly or has grown more substantially.
The situation, at the point where the Missouri River makes a sharp bend
to the east, and the Kansas River enters it, was long ago pointed out
as the natural centre of a great trade. Long before it started on its
present career it was the great receiving and distributing point of
South-western commerce, which left the Missouri River at this point
for Santa Fé and other trading marts in the South-west. Aside from this
river advantage, if one studies the course of streams and the incline of
the land in a wide circle to the westward, he is impressed with the fact
that the natural business drainage of a vast area is Kansas City. The
city was therefore not fortuitously located, and when the railways
centred there, they obeyed an inevitable law. Here nature intended, in
the development of the country, a great city. Where the next one will
be in the South-west is not likely to be determined until the Indian
Territory is open to settlement. To the north, Omaha, with reference
to Nebraska and the West, possesses many similar advantages, and is
likewise growing with great vigor and solidity. Its situation on a slope
rising from the river is commanding and beautiful, and its splendid
business houses, handsome private residences, and fine public schools
give ample evidence of the intelligent enterprise that is directing its
rapid growth.
It is difficult to analyze the impression Kansas City first makes upon
the Eastern stranger. It is usually that of immense movement, much of it
crude, all of it full of purpose. At the Union Station, at the time of
the arrival and departure of trains, the whole world seems afloat; one
is in the midst of a continental movement of most varied populations. I
remember that the first time I saw it in passing, the detail that most
impressed me was the racks and rows of baggage checks; it did not seem
to me that the whole travelling world could need so many. At that time
a drive through the city revealed a chaos of enterprise—deep cuts for
streets, cable roads in process of construction over the sharp ridges,
new buildings, hills shaved down, houses perched high up on slashed
knolls, streets swarming with traffic and roaring with speculation. A
little more than a year later the change towards order was marvellous:
the cable roads were running in all directions; gigantic buildings
rising upon enormous blocks of stone gave distinction to the principal
streets; the great residence avenues have been beautified, and showed
all over the hills stately and picturesque houses. And it is worthy of
remark that while the “boom” of speculation in lots had subsided, there
was no slacking in building, and the reports showed a steady increase in
legitimate business. I was confirmed in my theory that a city is likely
to be most attractive when it has had to struggle heroically against
natural obstacles in the building.