NakedWord mirror from long ago

This text is in the public domain because the copyright has expired.

THIS little book is the outgrowth of a series of articles which appeared in The Christian Work of New York. They attracted so much favorable comment that it seemed wise to expand them and put them into permanent form. They cover, in part, a phase of Mr. Carnegie's activities that is not so widely known as are his beneficences, and were revealed only to his friends. Mr. Carnegie's "Autobiography" has appeared just as this book goes to press. It is a rather striking fact that the "Recollections" dwell hardly at all upon the incidents recorded in the Autobiography, but supplement it in a way that I am sure will make all, interested in Mr. Carnegie's career and character, grateful.

FREDERICK LYNCH.

New York, October 18, 1920.

CONTENTS

   I. HOW I MET MR. CARNEGIE
  II. THE PRESIDENT OF THE NEW YORK PEACE SOCIETY
 III. THE PRESIDING GENIUS
  IV. MR. CARNEGIE AND THE FOREIGN STUDENTS
   V. THE MAN OF UNIVERSAL SYMPATHIES
  VI. THE PAN-AMERICAN
 VII. LOVER OF POETRY AND MUSIC
VIII. VIEWS ON EDUCATION
  IX. SOME CONVERSATIONS
   X. AT THE BANQUET TABLE
  XI. FOREIGN MISSIONS AND FOREIGN POLITICS
 XII. THE PHILANTHROPIST
XIII. THE CHURCH PEACE UNION
 XIV. MR. CARNEGIE AS A RELIGIOUS MAN

I FIRST met Mr. Carnegie on a special train to Tuskegee. Mr. Robert C. Ogden, chairman of the Board of Trustees of Tuskegee Institute, had invited about a hundred men and women to be his guests for a week on a special train from New York to Tuskegee and back. The train was made up of stateroom cars with two dining cars, and the guests occupied the train all the week, even while at Tuskegee. (Principal Washington had built a spur from the main road right into the Tuskegee campus. He used to say of it: "It is not as long as the New York Central, but it is just as broad.") It was a very happy party. It was made up largely of University presidents and professors, well-known editors, many publicists, and a sprinkling of clergymen and authors. Practically every man on the train was a man of international reputation, but three or four stood out among all the rest not only because of eminence, but because of the good time they were having. They were in picnic mood and were enjoying the trip immensely. They were often together. I recall especially Mr. Taft, Mr. Carnegie, Lyman Abbott, President Eliot and Professor Dutton discussing international affairs. The Philippine question was then to the front and there was a wide diversity of opinion in this group on that question, and when the talk veered around to the Philippines, as it always did, a crowd of us younger men would gather about this group and listen--sometimes egg the disputants on. Sometimes the disputants would get quite warm on the subject, and then we heard some rare talk. All phases of internationalism were discussed, but on this subject the members of the group were pretty well agreed. But when it came to the question of armament there came a division of the house again. There were a good many educators on the train, and most of them were pretty thoroughly in accord with Mr. Carnegie's views, namely, that the vocational side of education should be stressed, and that science should replace the classics.

It was in the dining car that I first met Mr. Carnegie. I was sitting alone, and he came and sat down opposite me. He immediately said, "You must be the youngest man in the party." I told him that I thought I was and that I was greatly enjoying the trip. He then wanted to know who I was and what I did. I told him that I was pastor of the Pilgrim Congregational Church, New York City, and that I had recently come down from Lenox, Mass. He at once said, "Aren't you a rather young man to be pastor of a church in New York?" I told him that I thought I was, but that the congregation had not thought so, so I could not help it. He wanted to know if I was especially interested in the problem of Negro education. I told him that I was interested in it as I was in several problems of human betterment, but that my special interest, outside of my distinctive parish work, was international peace. I watched his face as I said this and saw a real interest suddenly come into it. He was always on the lookout for young men to whom he could pass on his work and interests. This was one of the secrets of his great business success. He watched with great keenness the young men in his employ, and as he found the right man he turned over responsibilities to him. He thus discovered thirty or forty of the men who afterwards became heads of his great industries and succeeded to them. In the same way he was always watching for young men who had come under the spell of the vision of a new world order based on those same principles which prevail among gentlemen. He believed that nations could live together as gentlemen as easily as individuals. He believed that nations could outgrow duelling as had individuals. He did not believe that the question of justice could be settled by fists or guns. He believed the time had come, when, if this was called to the attention of most men, and arbitration treaties, international courts, leagues of peace-loving nations offered in the place of war as a method of settling international disputes, they would rise to them. This was his chief interest. He was possessed by it; when he found anyone equally enthusiastic, especially a young man, he at once became interested in him.

Immediately he asked me how I came to be interested in that subject. I told him I did not know. I thought that it was perhaps a sudden sense of the silliness, the ridiculousness, the futility as well as the cruelty of the whole war business. I believed in evolution. I thought we had as a race risen up out of the brute world on to a higher plane, but that just as we had brought one or two unnecessary, outgrown physical appendages with us--the appendix, for instance--so we had brought other brute characteristics--war. This had suddenly come over me--I knew not when or how.

I then ventured to ask him how he became so interested in the cause of international good will. He said that he supposed it was by somewhat the same process as that which I had just mentioned, but that he thought that his first trip through Europe, where he came up against the eternal sight of armament and soldiers, did more to goad him to take up the war against war than anything else. (Dr. Charles E. Jefferson once told me that it was this sight of Europe armed to the teeth--its flat contradiction of Christianity--that stirred him to that fight against wars as a means of settlement of international disputes he has so valiantly waged.)

Mr. Carnegie also said: "I came home brooding over the fact that the world was carrying a great, oppressive, unnecessary burden on its back; one, too, that the people would gladly be rid of. I began from that day to do my best to help them slough it off."

I was telling him about the Lake Mohonk conferences on international arbitration, two or three of which I had already attended, when someone else came and sat down with us, and entered into the conversation. We began talking about the education of the Negro, and here there was a little difference of opinion. Mr. Carnegie was so convinced of the splendid results for the Negro from the technical training which Hampton Institute and Tuskegee Institute were providing, that it was a little difficult to get him interested in the higher education such as Atlanta University and Fisk University were furnishing. I think he had a little of that feeling that Mr. Washington himself occasionally seemed to have, that the Negro would be wise not to worry over social standing, but bend all his efforts towards success in agriculture, trades and business, and especially try to make himself indispensable to the community. (In justice to Mr. Washington it should be remembered that he realized the need of teachers and leaders for his race, and was always friendly toward higher institutions of learning. But I knew him very well and I could never detect very much sympathy in him for that group of fine men represented by Professor Dubois and Professor Kelly, who were standing inflexibly for the Negro's full rights as a man.) I do not think Mr. Carnegie quite appreciated the sensitiveness of some Negroes of culture and fine instincts, or how they suffered under certain rebuffs which came. I told him of a young Negro, a college graduate, who was very fond of music, who had bought his ticket for the Metropolitan Opera, and was removed from his seat just as the performance began, because a Southern gentleman did not wish to sit beside him.

"Did they actually do that?" asked Mr. Carnegie, quite warmly.

"Professor Dubois tells the story in 'The Souls of Black Folk'," I said, and added, "I imagine cultured, educated Negroes are meeting such experiences all the time. I have known of several."

"That is all wrong," said Mr. Carnegie. "That is not democracy. One citizen has every right another citizen has in a real democracy."

I asked Mr. Carnegie if he would stop the higher education of the Negro or insist that he have the rights to which such education entitles him. Immediately he answered that he would insist on his being treated as a man, not as a Negro. He himself had always treated men as men, according to their worth, not their color. I asked him if he did not think that, where young Negroes had certain ambitions and ideals reaching beyond that of workingmen, they ought to be allowed to gratify them, and ought there not to be colleges for the exceptional Negro? He was very broadminded in his answer. He said he thought any boy anywhere in the world ought to have the opportunity to become his best and truest self. He was not opposed to the higher education of the Negro. He would be glad to see any Negro boy go through any university. But he did think Mr. Washington had found the secret of the solution of the Negro problem, and that he would advise the Negroes to fit themselves to do the best work possible, for in that way lay their ultimate recognition by the white people. But he would be glad to shake hands with any Negro boy who had put himself through college.

I had other talks with him on the way to Tuskegee and saw him often after our arrival. He and Mr. Taft aroused great interest among the students, they being the two men in the party of whom everybody had heard. Mr. Carnegie was very happy there. He saw the library which he had given, every brick of which had been made by the students and laid in place by them. He visited all the shops and saw the boys learning trades by making things to be used on the grounds and by building shops and houses, and saw the girls learning dressmaking by making their own clothes. He visited the dairies and gardens where girls and boys were fitting themselves for farm work, and one day took a drive over the immense farm. He was greatly impressed and said one day that Mr. Washington was one of the geniuses of the century. (On another occasion he remarked that Mr. Washington was one of the greatest men the South had produced. This quite angered some of our Southern friends, and when I afterwards quoted the remark in an article in a magazine I received several rather sharp letters. The only answer I made was that it was true, and was also, I thought, a very universal judgment.) We lived in the train while at Tuskegee, the cars having been pulled into the grounds. But one day the students gave a barbecue for the guests, and we all had dinner in a grove, seated on benches before long wooden tables. It was evidently very amusing to the students to see these distinguished men discussing roast pig and sweet potato pie. The worthies enjoyed it all very much and became boys again.

Every day there were exercises in the big assembly hall, at which the school sang and the visitors made addresses. Mr. Carnegie was fascinated by the singing. I shall have occasion later on to refer to his love for music. It cast a spell over him, and I have often heard him say, "Music is heaven"--not a bad definition if one stops to think what music means. The singing was very wonderful and Mr. Washington, knowing how fond Mr. Carnegie was of music, had the students sing the old Negro melodies by the hour. I have never heard a more wonderful or sweeter volume of tone than rose from those thousand Negro throats. They all sang with spontaneity and swaying rhythm, but most glorious of all was the deep undertone of bass, rolling out in perfect harmonies. One morning I was hurrying to the chapel--a little late--for the morning exercises. As I came round a corner, there, under the chapel windows, almost hidden by some big bushes, stood Mr. Carnegie with eyes shut and folded hands, in a kind of trance, as the swelling tone rolled out through the open windows. I, too, stopped and listened, and watched him.

The music stopped and he came out of his trance. He turned to where I stood. His eyes were shining. He had been off in great spaces. It took him a moment to get back. He took my arm and said only this, "I wanted it to go on forever." When, that evening, he made his great address, he took occasion to refer to the music. He spoke beautifully about it. He said it was worth coming clear to Tuskegee to hear; it would sing itself through his soul all the rest of his life; after all, the old prophets and poets who had pictured heaven as a place where one lived to music were not far off in their prophecies; he had great hopes of a race that could sing as theirs could; in their songs they had made a distinct contribution to the riches of the world; the poet had said of a great city being built that its walls had risen to music; they should build their own lives to the music of their songs. It was one of those inspired moments which frequently came to this great man. I shall have occasion to refer to several others where, for a moments, this man of business and ardent reformer, suddenly became poet and seer.

Mr. Carnegie's address was one of the events of the week. It was a discussion of the whole problem of education, especially as it applied to races that had been held back in the progress of the world. It was unique and full of originality and personality, as his addresses always were, and was read from manuscript. But the audience had something in store for them beyond the address, and got two or three of the most delicious thrills any audience ever experienced. Mr. Carnegie had been preceded by a certain bishop of the Southern Methodist Church. The bishop was a very eloquent man, eloquent in the Southern style, piling up great periods and soaring as the eagle soars. He suddenly launched out into a summary of the things which made America the greatest nation in the world. One thing after another contributed to this greatness, until suddenly he added: "We build the greatest battleships in the world and man them with the finest men," or something to that effect. (I have not the address before me.) Knowing Mr. Carnegie's feeling about battleships at just that time, I glanced to where he sat. No more sphinx-like face was ever witnessed. But I knew we had not heard the end of those battleships. When he arose to follow the bishop, he stood for a moment staring at the audience. He put on his glasses to read--and then slowly pushed them up on his forehead and turning to the bishop, said, with voice trembling with scorn, "Have I lived to hear a Christian minister, and a bishop at that, boasting of battleships!" I cannot recall the rest of his words, but for three minutes he pleaded with the young men and women to throw in all their powers and influence to creating a world where there should be no battleships, but courts of arbitration and nations living together as Christian gentlemen. The bishop looked very uncomfortable, and no doubt wished he was back in his own district. Mr. Carnegie could not drop the subject. Two or three times in the course of his address the bishop's battleship suddenly rushed into his mind, and he had to stop, right in the middle of a sentence bearing no relation to the battleship, to relieve his mind, while the audience chuckled to itself. The next day Mr. Carnegie whispered to me, with a sly look in his eye, "Didn't I lay the bishop out in good style?"

There was one very outstanding incident in the course of the address. He was reading from his manuscript an account of the great progress made in the uplift of the Negro as he had seen it during his lifetime. It had been wonderful.

Then he stopped, put the glasses up on his forehead again, and, looking over the vast audience, said: "Can one imagine the joy that would fill the heart of Armstrong and those other noble pioneers in Negro education could they look down upon us as we sit here tonight?" And then with most spontaneous and intimate voice added, "And who knows but they may be looking down upon us?"

I do not remember a more impressive moment in any great assembly. It was worth a whole volume on immortality. Furthermore, it was a perfect revelation of Mr. Carnegie's own heart. His faith was of his heart. In great moments he always rose to the world of the spirit as I shall have occasion to show.

MY INTIMATE relations with Mr. Carnegie began when he became President of the New York Peace Society. In 1906 a few of us who had been constant attendants at the Lake Mohonk Conferences on International Arbitration conceived the idea of forming a society in New York for promoting the ideals in which we were all interested. Also we felt that with the assembling of the Hague Conferences a new era had dawned upon the world and that the peace problem was being brought down out of the world of idealism, where all movements are born, and was becoming a practical, political, question. The Hague Conferences were to be the assemblies of nations already converted to the ideal (and I think that with the exception of Germany the large nations were pretty well converted, and that had it not been for the recalcitrancy of Germany we should have had a World Court and some sort of League of Nations long before 1914 which would have made the war of 1914 impossible), which should devote themselves to the creation of the international machinery necessary to put the ideals into operation and make them effective and permanent. It seemed to us that there should be in New York an organization whose task should be both to educate the people in what the Hague Conferences were doing and to stand behind the most advanced measures introduced into those conferences, perhaps sustain our American delegates in motions they might present--which, afterwards, we often did.

In June, 1906, this little group, summoned by a letter signed by Dr. Ernst Richard of Columbia University, met in the chapel of the Broadway Tabernacle Church. As I recall the group, among those present that afternoon were Hon. Oscar S. Straus, Professor Samuel T. Dutton, Dr. Ernst Richard, Dr. Charles E. Jefferson, Professor John B. Clark, and Dr. Hamilton Holt. There were a few others, but I cannot recall them. We organized under the name of the New York Peace Society and Mr. Straus was made president and Professor Dutton secretary. I became a member of the executive committee, which office I have held to this day, and, during the first two or three years of the Society, when the work of the secretary began to be too great for one man who could give only his spare moments to it, I helped Dr. Dutton. The Society prospered from the beginning. Everybody was interested in the movement and we soon had several hundred members. The Executive Committee used to meet with Mr. Straus at his hospitable home and everything was going well when suddenly Mr. Straus was summoned by President Roosevelt to come to Washington and take the Secretaryship of Commerce and Labor in his Cabinet. We were quite bewildered and wondered where we should turn for a president. Mr. Carnegie came to the mind of everybody. He was the logical man. He had put himself upon record by his great rectorial address at St. Andrew's and by many other utterances. We wrote him offering him the office. After a week's space he wrote that he had given the whole matter his earnest consideration; that all his heart was in this cause; that he could hardly bring himself to refuse so eager was he to do it; but that the pressure of work and responsibilities already too great compelled him to decline the office.

When this letter was read to the Executive Committee there was great disappointment. The chairman placed it on the table and said: "Where shall we turn now?"

Then I broke in and said: "Gentlemen, I do not think we ought to let this matter drop here. Mr. Carnegie is the logical president of the New York Peace Society. He is our 'man of destiny'. He is one of the two or three men known all over the world as prophets of the new international order. With him our Society is lifted up out of a little, local sphere and becomes a world movement. Furthermore, that letter sounds reluctant. I do not think we ought to leave this with a letter. I move that a committee of three or four be appointed to call upon Mr. Carnegie and personally tell him that he must be our president."

The idea captivated the group and a committee was immediately constituted of Dr. Lyman Abbott, Dr. Charles E. Jefferson and myself. When, a few days later, we called upon Mr. Carnegie one of the most amusing scenes I have ever witnessed happened. Before one of us could say a word--and we were all prepared with long and unanswerable arguments, determined not to leave the house until he had promised--he burst out:

"I have had the most miserable three nights I have known for years. I really have not slept since I wrote that letter. Every night when I would lie down to sleep I would hear this voice within me saying, 'Andrew, Andrew, aren't you ashamed of yourself? Here for years you have been advocating arbitration in place of war, world courts, leagues of peace, and parliaments of nations, and then when the chance comes really to render the cause some practical help, and to lead a group existing to put your ideals into practice, you refuse. Shame on you!'"

The way in which he said it, as well as the whole picture of this battle of conscience, was so irresistible that we all roared with laughter, he joining in. Tea was brought in and we all spent a delightful hour together planning for the work of his society--for he really considered it his from that moment. He led it faithfully and enthusiastically until the United States entered the war, and its activities were stilled for a while. Many of his most notable utterances on international affairs were made at its annual meetings and other gatherings. He made an ideal president also in this regard--he had the confidence of both parties in the society. The Society has always drawn to itself two groups of people, one, taking the view that all war is wrong, believing practically in non-resistance; the other working for the substitution of courts and arbitration treaties for war in the settlement of international disputes, but not non-resistant, and not objecting to war in a case of self-defense. As to the proposition for disarmament, they felt it was useless to discuss it before some other guaranty of safety for the nation had been set up. Mr. Carnegie satisfied both of these groups. He was not a non-resistant, and used often to say that he "believed in peace so much that he would fight for it." He would fight for the enforcement of an arbitration or to oppose the aggrandizement of a criminal nation. Yet he had such a horror of war, calling it again and again "the foulest stain that remains to disgrace humanity since slavery was abolished," and was such an advocate of simultaneous disarmament that he held the radicals, while by his continual emphasis upon a great constructive program he held the confidence of the conservative group. Indeed an utterance I heard him make in 1907 I think exactly summed up the point to which he had arrived at this time.

He said: "Personally I am a convert to the League of Peace idea--the formation of an International Police, never for aggression, always for protection to the peace of the civilized world. It requires only the agreement of a sufficient number of nations to establish this. Since the civilized world is now united by electric bonds into one body in constant and instant communication, it is largely interdependent and rapidly becoming more so. War now involves the interests of all, and therefore one nation has no longer a right to break the peace without reference to others."

I was greatly interested two or three years after this when at Washington, at the dedication of the Pan American Palace given by Mr. Carnegie, President Taft said that the time had come when no two nations on this hemisphere had a right to go to war to settle their own disputes and thus plunge the other twenty states into trouble and confusion. In the course of the evening, at the reception in the beautiful hall of the Palace, I asked Mr. Carnegie if he had noticed that sentence.

His face lit up and he said: "Yes, did you? It's just what I have been saying about the world. The world is becoming almost as much one as is this continent. No nation can go to war now against another nation without going to war against all humanity."

"Against all humanity." How often I have thought of that prophetic word since 1914. One nation went to war; against Serbia? No, it was against all humanity. I recall another word Mr. Carnegie once said to me: "The world has become a family. No two nations can fight each other in it without involving all the other nations any more than two brothers could begin a pistol fight in the parlor or dining room without involving the rest of the family." The fundamental idea in his mind when he drew up his plan of a League of Peace was that, just as the police would interfere in the fight between the two brothers to save the rest of the family, so the international police would interfere in the fight of the two nations to save the rest of the family of nations.

I saw a great deal of Mr. Carnegie after he became president of the New York Peace Society as it was necessary to consult him on many questions. We talked on many subjects and these will be touched upon later. But I want to devote the next chapter to the great National Peace Congress held in New York in 1907, of which he was president. (It was originated and organized by the New York Peace Society.) Some of the incidents that occurred during those meetings revealed not only his greatness, but also the geniality of his personality and gave great play to that sense of humor which was always finding expression.

IN 1907 the Executive Committee of the New York Peace Society held a conference with Dr. Benjamin F. Trueblood, president of the American Peace Society, and Mr. Edwin D. Mead of The World Peace Foundation, and the outcome of it was the determination to hold a First National Peace Conference in America. We took the matter up with Mr. Carnegie and he became enthusiastic about it and readily consented to act as President of the Congress and preside at all its meetings. He suggested that it be held in April, as The Carnegie Institute in Pittsburgh was to be dedicated on April eleventh, and he had invited several distinguished men from various European countries to be his guests at that time.

"We can use them at the Congress," he said, "and that will give it an international character."

I ventured to suggest to him that perhaps some of them had never thought much on this particular matter of international peace.

"Never mind," he answered, "we will make them speak, and then they will have to think about it."

And then he added, with a twinkle in his eye, "We'll make them put themselves on record."

He did make some of them put themselves on record on this subject for the first time, with very good results. Some of them, Baron d'Estournelles de Constant, William T. Stead and William Archer, had long been interested in the subject; but I imagine that Sir Robert Ball, Sir William Henry Freece, Sir Edward Elgar, Earl Grey, Maarten Maartens, Sir Robert Cranston and some others of the distinguished speakers from abroad had never thought so much about the subject in all their lives as they did in the week they put upon the preparation of their speeches.

The Congress lasting three or four days was a great success. It was attended by thousands from all over the nation and some of the most eminent men enthusiastically took part in it. Among the speakers were Dr. Hirsch, Bishop Potter, Senator Root, Governor Hughes, Oscar S. Straus, Mr. Bryan, Jane Addams, Marcus M. Marks, Nahum J. Bachelder, John Barrett, Edward Everett Hale, Nicholas Murray Butler, John H. Finley, Edwin D. Mead, Felix Adler, Samuel Gompers, Terence V. Powderly, Congressman Bartholdt, Thomas Nelson Page, John W. Foster, Judge Gray, President Eliot, Archbishop Ireland, Seth Low, Lyman Abbott, and Lord Bryce, besides the foreign guests mentioned above. Carnegie Hall was crowded session after session; there were overflow meetings, and the Congress closed with two great simultaneous banquets, one at the Hotel Astor, the other at the Waldorf-Astoria. Professor Samuel T. Dutton was Chairman of the Committee and Professor Robert Erskine Ely, Secretary.

Mr. Carnegie was the happiest of men throughout the whole period and was the presiding genius. Nowhere have his amazing versatility and his rare sense of humor been more fully revealed than in his introductions of the various speakers and in his impromptu remarks at the various sessions. And yet he kept the whole Congress up on a very high level. It addressed itself seriously to the great questions the Hague Conferences were discussing and foreshadowed many of those forms of international organization the world is now trying to adopt after the war. There is hardly a thing in the constitution of the League of Nations which Mr. Carnegie and his associates did not foreshadow at this Congress. Indeed they called for more than the present Covenant contains, except as it contains it in embryo. In his opening address Mr. Carnegie set the note for all the sessions. After outlining his plan for a League of Peace in a passage I have quoted in a previous chapter, he said: "We urge this plan as the easiest and speediest means of attaining international peace. Suppose these nations (he had mentioned a group of the great powers) or others, propose at the Hague Conference that they and such other nations as concur agree to say to the world that no nation shall be permitted to disturb the peace, the nations thus combined would constitute an overwhelming force; peace would be unbroken, for resistance would be folly. Nevertheless, the overwhelming force must be in reserve, each nation agreeing when necessary to exert force to keep peace, and to contribute its agreed-upon quota, just as the six Powers did in China. Before resorting to force, it would be well to begin by proclaiming non-intercourse with the offending nation. No exchange of products, no loans, no military or naval supplies, no mails--these restrictions would serve as a solemn warning and probably prove effective. Force should always be the last resort."

But I do not intend to make this book a history of the First National Peace Congress. I want rather to recall three or four occasions where the humaneness as well as the greatness of Mr. Carnegie was revealed. Who that was present on the night when Professor Hugo Munsterberg delivered his panegyric on Germany as the great peace-loving nation--how strange the speech sounds to-day as I re-read it--will ever forget Mr. Carnegie's turning his back to the audience and with almost trembling body telling the great psychologist just what he thought of one statement in his speech.

Dr. Munsterberg had said: "I know, of course, that every word of this kind must be unpopular; yet I say it frankly at once: The German army is not felt by the nation as a disagreeable burden... The years in the army are a time of pride for the overwhelming mass of the German people."

This was more than Mr. Carnegie could stand. He exclaimed: "I have heard Professor Munsterberg make the most extraordinary statement that I have heard for a long time: that conscription in Germany was not regarded as a great burden. I should like to have the gentleman visit our mills in Pittsburg and ask thousands and thousands of Germans what influenced them to leave Germany for this land." Then turning to Professor Munsterberg, he said: "I had in the beginning a German partner--I have had many German partners and several of them are millionaires to-day--and I have asked them and also the men in the mills: 'What made you leave Germany?' and they have answered: 'Mr. Carnegie, I have two boys; I would not have them in the barracks.'"

After the meeting was over I said to Mr. Carnegie, as he was putting on his coat in the speakers' room: "I don't think our friend from Harvard has any doubt as to how you feel about the Prussian system."

He looked at me a moment and then said: "I came pretty near to jumping right up out of my chair while he was talking that stuff about the Germans not feeling conscription as a burden. The United States has swarms of them and half of them came to get out from under that whole business." I never saw him quite so excited. And he was right.

Mr. Carnegie was very fond of Mr. Stead and quite appreciated his genius--for he was a man of genius. He was more like one of the Old Testament prophets than any man I have known--fearless, passionate, fanatical sometimes. He once said to me, "It is only we crazy men who move the world". Mr. Carnegie had brought him over for the Pittsburgh dedication, but the Peace Congress gave him his great chance. He was an ardent worker against war and militarism and at just this time his mind was full of a pilgrimage he wanted to organize, where a few should start out from London, gathering companions as they went from country to country, and call upon all the kings and rulers of Europe, demanding, not asking, that they support the proposals for arbitration of all disputes as framed at the Hague Conference. He was irrepressible and never missed an opportunity to speak. He was very popular everywhere, too, and the people were always clamoring for him when he appeared. He was down to speak at one of the evening sessions, but many other speakers had preceded him before his turn came. Mr. Carnegie introduced him as "one of the most ardent spirits I know among all my friends," but, because it was so late, asked him if he would take ten minutes, saying that he would have further opportunities of addressing the Congress. At the end of his ten minutes he stopped, saying, "My time is up," but the great audience unanimously shouted, "Go on, go on". Mr. Carnegie had to still the tumult, but the audience wanted Stead. Finally he got the people quiet and said: "That man Stead could keep you here an hour!"

"All right, we'll stay," someone shouted, and the audience began clapping again. But Mr. Carnegie was firm, and putting his palm up beside his mouth as though to take the audience into his confidence, he said in a loud whisper, "He is wonderful, and he has been speaking ever since he landed in this country; and some of us, careful of his health, are taking care to limit him." This was too much, the idea of limiting Stead, and the audience roared.

Then Mr. Carnegie said: "Besides, we have other speakers. I would like very much to hear him myself, but I must really ask you to allow the other speakers to speak; it is now after ten o'clock, and all well regulated families should have the heads of the families at home before eleven o'clock. We will now hear----"

But the irrepressible Stead leaped to his feet again and said: "Mr. Carnegie, just one word more; I have obeyed and am always ready to obey the ruling of the Chair, but I wish to make a suggestion that when he exercises his rulings and insists, quite properly, upon the time-table being adhered to, he should not apply it so hard upon me as to put it upon his regard for my health; and I have further to say to you that, as he has done so, I think it only right to make this fair offer to him and this meeting, that after you have gotten through with the other speakers to-night, if you would like to stop and hear me, I am game to speak as long as you will listen." Again there was applause, (Two nights afterwards Mr. Stead addressed a great audience of workingmen in Cooper Union and the janitor had to put out the lights to get the audience to go home.)

I am tempted to digress here for a moment and give one characteristic incident of Mr. Stead's visit. On the second day of the Congress one of the clubs on Fifth Avenue invited the speakers at the Congress to be the guests at a luncheon. Promptly at one o'clock Mr. Stead put in an appearance with Mrs. Stead.

The doorkeeper greeted him with the remark: "I am sorry, sir, but women are not allowed in the Club."

"Why not?" demanded the indignant Stead.

"I don't know, sir," replied the somewhat non-plussed lackey, "but it's the rule, sir."

"Who made it?" said Mr. Stead.

"I don't know, sir, but it's the rule."

"Then I don't go in," said Mr. Stead. "I don't go where my wife can't go."

"Very well, sir," said the lackey, and Mr. Stead took Mrs. Stead by the arm and led her back to their hotel for luncheon.

I related this incident to Mr. Carnegie that evening, and he said: "I'm sorry it happened; but all the world put together couldn't move Stead from his course if he thought he was in the right."

I remember so well when, several years afterward, the Titanic was sunk, and Stead went down on her, refusing to leave the ship while anyone else was on her, I showed Mr. Carnegie a paragraph from The British Weekly to the effect that it had not yet been reported whether Stead had been saved or not, but that it was probable he had been lost, because Mr. Stead would not leave the ship while there was a single soul on her needing help, he said, the tears coming to his eyes: "Ah, there's a tribute any man in the world might envy. And it's true, absolutely true. He was one of the knightliest souls the world ever knew."

(The reports afterward bore out the truth of the statement in The British Weekly. Stead refused to save himself, and perished saving others. "He saved others: himself he could not save.")

Perhaps the most dramatic scene in the whole Congress was the bestowal of the Cross of the Legion of Honor upon Mr. Carnegie by the French Government. So many guests desired to attend the closing banquet of the Congress that it had to be held in two hotels simultaneously--a thousand guests in each. The Hon. Seth Low presided at the Waldorf-Astoria and Mr. Carnegie at the Astor. The speakers addressed both banquets, going from one to the other. Toward the close of the banquet at the Astor, Baron d'Estournelles was ushered in, having just spoken at the Waldorf-Astoria. Edward Everett Hale was just finishing his speech and the Baron heard the last paragraph. Mr. Carnegie presented him to the audience.

He hesitated a moment and then before beginning his address he turned toward Dr. Hale and uttered these memorable words: "I tell you that I shall go back to my country full of faith, full of certainty for the future. After arriving in this room I witnessed the sight of a most respected and great old man speaking like a young man. Knowing him as we all do, but also from what my friend Mr. Carnegie has said, I think you will allow me to say as a foreigner who came here yesterday and will be gone to-morrow, that it is a fine sight to see in your country an old man speaking like a young man, speaking of the future. I thought yesterday I had seen all that I could enjoy when I had seen your American children full of confidence of Peace,[1] but I see now something better still; I see there is no difference here between generations; I see that the old people are not against the young people; I see that you all agree in aiming at this admirable ideal, the substitution of arbitration and justice for the horrors of war. When I return to Europe I shall find skeptics laughing as they always do when one speaks of a new idea, but I shall not mind! I will tell them: 'You may laugh, you old people, but you do not live in America. They act their belief and you will be obliged to follow them.'"

[1 Baron d'Estournelles had on the previous day addressed a great audience of school children in Carnegie Hall.]

There was great applause, and Dr. Hale, deeply moved, arose and bowed to d'Estournelles.

The Baron then went on with his address and, as he neared the close turned and faced Mr. Carnegie. Mr. Carnegie had no idea of what was coming--neither had anyone else--but it proved one of the greatest moments of his life. It also elicited from him one of his noblest utterances, an utterance which was a spontaneous revelation of his heart. Sometimes I think it is the most self-revealing word he ever uttered in public.

Looking straight at Mr. Carnegie, the Baron said: "And now the Court of The Hague exists, and we can be pretty sure that in a few years we will see the Hague Court established as your great Supreme Court of the United States is, and that Court, which has been for three or four years quite empty, will be so full of cases that it will almost require two courts instead of one. This is due to your initiative, and this has been the example given to the governments of the world. The governments are not ungrateful. They understand now what has been done, and in France especially they appreciate it. They have not forgotten the principles of the French Revolution. Our great Revolution considered that it is not enough for a man to be a good citizen of his own country, he must try to be a good citizen of all the world. And because we found in France that the act of Mr. Andrew Carnegie was a faithful application of our most beloved and respected principle, the government of France, the Republic, wanted to send a public testimonial of its esteem and gratitude to the man who has furnished such a good example and built the Palace of Peace.

"Mr. Carnegie, let me say, my dear friend, that I am very happy to be the bearer of the good news. You are now to be in the rank of a Commander of the Legion of Honor. Let me, my dear friend, attach to you this ribbon (the Baron here placed the order about the neck of Mr. Carnegie), let me consider now that you are an American, as well as an Englishman, an Englishman as well as a Frenchman, a citizen of the world. You have done a great work and we thank you." (At this point there was great applause, the audience rising en masse.)

Mr. Carnegie replied as follows:

"My friends; Baron d'Estournelles de Constant: This honor is as surprising as it is overwhelming. None knows better than I that it is not deserved. No, it is not deserved for anything that I have done, but if a heart that keeps on enlarging as I grow older, embracing more and more of the world and the people of the world, if that merits the cross of the Legion of Honor, I believe that I do deserve it. For I do find with every successive year of my life that I take higher and higher views, that I think more and more of humanity, that I have brighter and brighter visions of its future.

"That this honor comes from France makes it doubly acceptable. I remember what France was to this Republic when she needed a friend. I remember what the French people are capable of sacrificing for an ideal. I know what France has done for the world of art. And I know what the Legion of Honor means. It embraces the men of distinction in every field of human endeavor. The great man of France to-day has been selected by a vote of several millions of her people recently. The soldier? No. Napoleon himself was seventh on the list. Pasteur, the hero of civilization, as Napoleon is the hero of barbarism, was first, followed by two scientists and then by two authors; and Napoleon who was like some huge Colossus, is seventh already in the estimation of that intelligent people, the French, and with every successive vote destined to fall lower and lower in the list until his name be remembered no more except as a monster who killed his fellowman for his own glory. I love France for her idealism; I love her because she was a friend of my native land, for Scotland and France were ever good friends. None knows so well as I that I do not deserve this honor, but it is so great an honor it doesn't exalt; it humbles, when I compare it with the small service that I have rendered. But it does this also; it furnishes another bond binding me still more strictly so to live my life that France, who bestowed it upon me, shall never have cause to regret that she was generous enough to embrace me in that circle of men who have won her august approval."

MR. CARNEGIE had a heart which embraced all peoples and all classes and conditions. He was at home in any country and with the citizens of every nation. While a true patriot, loving 'his adopted country, yet he belonged to humanity. He was always happy when he could gather about him a group of men from every land, or a group of men from every class, that they might all feel their kinship. He used to say continually that one of the great factors in international reconciliation was acquaintance. I shall have occasion to show in a future chapter how, when he gave one of his endowments he expressed the hope that the first things done with the income might be to bring together certain groups from the various nations that they might learn to know each other.

He once said to me: "There are occasions where familiarity breeds contempt, I suppose, but I find that generally it breeds respect. The more I meet men from other lands, the more I appreciate their fine qualities."

Another time he said: "The things that divide nations are surface differences: color, language, habits, customs, shape of head, manners. When one gets to know these people he finds there is oneness in all the big things, the things that count--we suffer from the same causes, we are one in the things of the heart. We are made happy by the same things, miserable by the same things. There is no difference in mother-love between a Chinese woman and an American woman. What we want to do is to get together and discover how we are one in the real things, and emphasize this sameness rather than the surface differences."

He told me a very funny story in connection with this, a story that has a world of meaning in it, a universal truth, and one that I have used a hundred times in speaking on this subject of the oneness of humanity. I do not know where Mr. Carnegie first heard it. He said: "The circus visited the village and there was an Irishman, Pat, who was very anxious to go. But he did not have the necessary fifty cents. Early in the morning he turned up at the grounds and offered to do any kind of work--help pitch the tent, feed the animals, anything if they would only let him in. The manager said, 'I'm sorry, Pat, but we've got all the help we need. But I'll tell you: the lion died last night, and what's a circus without a lion? We've kept his pelt, and if you'll get into it and simply crawl into the cage and lie down over in the corner a couple of hours--asleep you know--I'll give you two dollars.' Pat thought it was a very easy way of earning two dollars and accepted. They got him into the pelt and led him out to the cage. The manager opened the door and was pushing Pat in when suddenly Pat saw a great Bengal tiger glowering at him from the further end of the cage. He leaped back with an agility he had not shown for years. The proprietor gave him another shove. 'I'll not go into the cage with yonder beast,' he shouted. Whereupon the great tiger rather drowsily lifted its head up and said 'Come right in, Pat. I'm an Irishman, too.'"

"You see," Mr. Carnegie used to add, "We're all Irishmen when you get down beneath the different colored pelts."

It was my good fortune to have a part in three or four memorable functions where this universality of Mr. Carnegie was manifested in the most striking manner. We have in New York City a large group of foreign students. They come from every country of the world; but the Chinese and Japanese students outnumber all the others. The Young Men's Christian Association saw a remarkable opportunity not only to help these men in their own personal lives, and not only to bring them into contact with American friends, but also to further mutual acquaintance and good-will among the nations they represented. For these boys would all be leaders when they went home--many of them would at once be called to offices in the state. Consequently they brought these students together into the Cosmopolitan Club, under the able leadership of Harry E. Edmonds, Secretary of the Intercollegiate Branch of the Y. M. C. A. This Club holds a weekly supper at Earl Hall, Columbia University, at which some well known man is invited to speak on some phase of American life, culture, or humanitarian work, also to show the various ways in which religion is being brought to bear on the social structure. One thing we who are on the Advisory Committee of this Club have always wanted to do was to let these foreign students get in touch with American homes. We have divided them up into groups and got them invited into many families where they could see our home life at its best. One day I suggested to Mr. and Mrs. Carnegie that they invite the whole Club to their home for an evening, that the students might, of course, see the home, but especially that they might meet Mr. and Mrs. Carnegie and a few prominent Americans they might invite. They saw, as they were always quick to do, an opportunity to do a beautiful thing and the boys were invited. So also were a few Americans. I recall Mr. Marks, Mr. Holt, Mr. Maxwell, Professor Kirchwey, Professor Dutton, Mr. Bertram, President Finley, Dr. Liepziger, and Dr. Pritchett among others.

The boys, with a few girls--for girls are also included in the Club--turned up two hundred strong. Fully two thirds of them were Chinese and Japanese students. Mr. Carnegie was as happy as he could be. I do not think he had quite realized what was coming, for as they poured into the house, group after group, he came over to me and said, with wonder in his face: "Do you mean to say that all these Chinese and Japanese boys are here studying in our universities?"

"Yes," I said, "and hundreds more. And," I added, "the interesting thing is that these Chinese boys are here on the indemnity money the United States returned to China at the time of the Boxer Rebellion."

"It is wonderful," he said, "and what a splendid lot of fellows they are. These Chinese boys are a revelation. I have seen several Japanese students but not so many of these Chinese students."

I told him that many of them came from the very finest families of China and most of them had had university training before coming to America and were picked from among hundreds to take advanced courses in America.

Mr. Carnegie was evidently very much impressed. When the students had all arrived, we went into the drawing rooms and I presented them, as a body, to Mr. and Mrs. Carnegie and our other American friends and asked Mr. Edmonds to say a word about the work of the Club. Mr. Carnegie told me afterwards that he could not conceive of any finer work being done in New York City. Mr. Edmonds asked Mr. Aghnides, a Turkish student, and President of the Club, to say a word for the students. Mr. Aghnides thanked Mr. and Mrs. Carnegie, in a few gracious words, for their kindness in inviting them, causing a little ripple of laughter by saying, "You are better known in Turkey than the President of the United States."

I wish I had arranged for a stenographic report of Mr. Carnegie's words to the students. I can recall, in substance, some of the things he said. He made a remarkable impression upon them, as some of them afterwards told me.

He said: "It seems as if all the world had been brought together in my house this evening, for there is hardly a country that is not represented here. And this is what should happen more and more. The oftener all the world can be brought together the sooner the peace of the world will come. That is the wonderful thing about the Second Hague Conference. All the world was there. Every one of the countries from which you have come had its delegate there. I built the Peace Palace at The Hague with this thought in mind that it might be an assembly place for all the world. I hope sometime to see a World Court there and a World Parliament--who knows that some of you will not be the first delegates to that Parliament--and, as I told the students at St. Andrews, all the peace-loving, respectable nations must some time band themselves together to establish law and order in the world. . . . I feel very much honored by the presence of these boys and girls from the Eastern nations. How much we owe to your wonderful civilizations. One of the men whose words I read over and over is Confucius, one of the two or three great teachers of the world. Again and again I marvel as I read, how he has anticipated so many of the teachings of our own Christian religion. It shows how God does not leave Himself without a witness in every land. When I have seen, as I have, great throngs in your lands prostrate in worship I have said that true worship reaches the one and the same God, no matter under what name He may be addressed. . . . One hears so much about what your countries have to learn from us: I want also to think of how much we have to learn from you. I am glad to learn that several American students are also in your Club. I hope many of them will join and meet often with you so that they may learn of you as well as you learn of them. . . . I hope you will see the real America while you are here. You are seeing it in the universities where you are studying. You are seeing it in the homes you are visiting, for Dr. Lynch tells me many homes have been opened to you. That is splendid. Your instructors should arrange to have you visit our libraries, hospitals, charitable organizations, settlements, and technical schools. There is the real America. . . . You will be told that the ideal of America is money, that materialism rules here. This is false. Service is the characteristic of the real American. You see these friends of mine here who have been invited in to meet you. They are all very great men. They could all of them have been millionaires had they chosen to enter business. They could have had salaries of fifty thousand dollars a year had they chosen. They are all of them working on a very moderate salary because they prefer service to money. I have hosts of friends in Great Britain and America and most of them belong to this class. This is the America I want you to carry home to your countries.

Well, aren't we having a good time tonight? I don't know when I have been so happy. There is not any reason in the world why your countries and mine shouldn't live together just as happily as we are living together in this room. We're all one family to-night. Well, that's what the different countries have got to learn--that they're all one family. I've been telling them that all my life--but I'm getting old and you are young--you must bring it to pass. Come now, and I will show you my treasures..."

Off Mr. Carnegie started with the whole crowd behind him, and carried them all over the house, showing them pictures of libraries and of his friends, medals and great gold and silver keys given with the freedom of various cities; rare books; rarer autograph letters and pictures of kings and emperors and great writers and statesmen--everything that he thought would interest these boys. And he talked all the time. I told him afterwards that he reminded us of a Cook's Tourist guide taking a party through The Louvre. Once I caught his voice from the distance--I was not with the group in the library--repeating poetry to them--and he could repeat a lot of it when he chose--and I recognized that poem of his dear friend, Richard Watson Gilder, on the heroes of peace which he had written and sent to Mr. Carnegie and which Mr. Carnegie was always repeating to his friends. Then he marched all the boys down the great hall, past the organ where he stopped for a moment to expatiate on music--and how he understood the ministry of music--into the art gallery to a good supper wherewith to round off the night. Those who saw Mr. Carnegie that night saw him at his best.

Speaking of Mr. Gilder's poem, Mr. Carnegie had a habit of writing a Christmas or New Years letter to his friends, and having it handsomely printed and sent as his Christmas gift to them. Sometimes he would print some poem or quotation that had made a great impression upon him. On Christmas morning, 1909, his friends received a beautifully printed copy of this poem of Mr. Gilder's, "In the Time of Peace", with Mr. Gilder's inscription on it: "For Andrew Carnegie: The great peace fiend--I mean angel. R. W. G."

Mr. Carnegie had written at the foot of the poem: "Sent me by my dear friend Watson Gilder--one of the purest, sweetest white souls who ever breathed--'He is gone, and oh, the difference to me.'" This was signed in Mr. Carnegie's own hand, as these printed Christmas messages always were.

This poem of Mr. Gilder's played so important a role in Mr. Carnegie's life that I think it ought to be copied here. For he once said to me: "The whole idea of my Hero Fund is in that poem. I conceived the Fund before Mr. Gilder wrote this poem; but we often talked it over together and he has put it all in those eight wonderful stanzas." The poem is as follows:

'Twas said: "When roll of drum and battles' roar
 Shall cease upon the earth, O, then no more

 The deed--the race--of heroes in the land."
 But scarce that word was breathed when one small hand

 Lifted victorious o'er a giant wrong
 That had its victims crushed through ages long;

 Some woman set her pale and quivering face
 Firm as a rock against a man's disgrace;

 A little child suffered in silence lest
 His savage pain should wound a mother's breast;

 Some quiet scholar flung his gauntlet down
 And risked in truth's great name the synod's frown;

 A civic hero, in the calm realm of laws,
 Did that which suddenly drew a world's applause;

 And one to the post his lithe young body gave
 That he a thousand lives might save.

I HAVE told the story of Mr. Carnegie and the foreign students. I recall other occasions where his delight in meeting all kinds of men was manifested. One night I received an invitation to come to the house to meet some of the representatives of Capital and Labor. If I remember rightly the Civic Federation was holding its annual meeting and many leaders of the labor groups and trades unions were in the city, as well as many of the big employers who were interested in the solution of the industrial problem. When I arrived at the house I found one of the most interesting groups I have ever seen assembled. There were thirty or forty of the heads of great steel plants, coal mines, railroads, factories and other industries. They were in dress suits, well-groomed, and perfectly at ease of course. With them were forty or fifty labor leaders, presidents and secretaries of trades unions of every sort. One or two of these were in dress suits, most of them were not. They were somewhat uncomfortable and ill at ease at first, too. They were not used to great houses, nor to meeting the heads of great industries socially, and it was quite evident, with the exception of two or three, they were anxious for the supper bell to ring, so to speak. Mr. Carnegie saw this at once and he was perfectly delightful. He moved around among these men chatting with one and another and introduced employers and labor leaders to each other and made them talk. He then got the whole group out into the big hall and made a delightful address of welcome to them, dwelling upon the fact that they would be much better fitted to settle labor disputes if they all knew one another personally, and then he called upon two of the capitalists to speak and two of the labor men. He then made them all join hands as they happened to be standing and sing "Auld Lang Syne" together. Then we all adjourned to the supper room and by that time everyone was feeling very much at ease.

Mr. Carnegie was a firm believer in the trades union movement. He had come up out of the ranks of the toilers and understood them. He had contempt for idlers, whether they were rich or poor, and he had admiration for all hard workers whether they worked with hand or brain. He once said to me: "If I had been in the country at the time of the Homestead strikes those regrettable incidents connected with them would never have happened: I even doubt if there would have been any strikes."

One of the most interesting gatherings I ever attended at Mr. Carnegie's home was a luncheon which he gave for Count Apponyi. Count Apponyi had long been known in America as an exponent of liberal ideals in Hungary. He had stepped down out of his hereditary seat in the House of Lords and stood for election in Parliament at the request of the people. He was returned year after year and became the apostle of liberalism in Hungary. When the Interparliamentary Union was formed he was one of the first to become interested in it. The Interparliamentary Union was the outgrowth of efforts on the part of such men as Sir William Randall Cremer of England, Baron d'Estournelles de Constant of France and the Hon. Samuel J. Barrows and the Hon. Richard Bartholdt of America to bring members of the several national parliaments together to discuss the various questions raised at the Hague Conferences, the execution of arbitration treaties between the nations, the reduction of armaments, and the creation of some form of a permanent World Congress and World Court. Mr. Carnegie was intensely interested in this great step forward and offered his encouragement to Mr. Cremer at the beginning. He had a great admiration for Mr. Cremer, a carpenter who had come to be one of the most powerful, although quiet, influences in the British Parliament, and had even achieved knighthood. (Mr. Carnegie said one day: "If any man ever deserved knighthood he did. There never was a more outstanding instance of a man getting an idea into his head early in life and then devoting every single minute of his life to bringing it to pass. Some friends told me that Cremer, when he first started to bring the legislators together into the Interparliamentary Union, would wait for three hours in some great statesman's outside office to catch him and get the scheme before him. They are the fellows who do things, though.")

As I was saying, Count Apponyi was one of the first parliamentarians to see the significance of this new movement. (The movement did catch the imagination of the world and held some very successful meetings in different cities from year to year. It is greatly to be hoped that after the tumult of making peace has somewhat subsided it may be reconvened. It could become a most valuable appendage of the League of Nations.) Count Apponyi saw its great possibilities and contributed an article "The International Parliament" to The Independent of August 24, 1910, which attracted wide attention. The address which he made at Mr. Carnegie's luncheon was the substance of this article. There were about forty at the table, if I remember rightly, and every one of them a man distinguished in some way and a leader in public affairs.

Mr. Carnegie in introducing Count Apponyi referred to the distinguished service he had rendered the people of his home land in securing for them larger liberties and rights. "And now he is extending that service to a larger sphere. He is helping to free all humanity from tyrannies and oppressions. He has seen that we cannot have free states except in a free world. He has also seen that the good of each is the good of all. We are all bound up together, we shall eventually all rise or fall together."

Count Apponyi then made one of the most eloquent addresses I ever heard. His command of English was wonderful and he spoke it--and French also--as fluently as his own tongue. What he said was, as I said above, in substance the same as the article contributed to The Independent of New York. He referred to the wonderful moral influence America had exerted upon the whole world by the force of its liberal and democratic institutions. He referred to Mr. Roosevelt's statement, that there was no power so strong as to make America afraid of it and no nation so weak as to have any reason to fear her, as the program of a great democracy. "Democracy can have but one sort of foreign policy: Boldly to uphold the banner of international justice and fraternity"; she may rightly make ready for self-defense so long as there are predatory nations in the world, "but the spirit of aggression is in contradiction with her very nature, while the love of peace and justice are essential ingredients of her mental complexion." He ended by referring to Mr. Carnegie's introductory remarks, how true they were: "Experience has taught us what a safeguard our neighbors' liberty is to our own and how the highest interests of each nation are dependent on the security of all. Even apart from the mere ideal feelings of universal brotherhood, towards which our souls naturally incline, national egoism is enlightened enough among us to seek for guarantees of its own welfare in the concord and solidarity of mankind."

Mr. Carnegie was always inviting his friends to his home to share some unique experience or to enjoy with him some unusual pleasure. One of the subjects which the Carnegie Institution of Washington early became interested in was that of Terrestrial Magnetism. The non-magnetic ship "Carnegie" was built--there was practically no metal used in the ship's construction--and sent into the Arctic Ocean to further that magnetic survey of the globe the Institution was carrying forward. The ship carried a splendid moving picture camera and some wonderful films were made. Upon the return of the ship Mr. Carnegie invited a group of his friends to his home to see these pictures and hear the lecture of one of the scientists who had been on the voyage. The picture of the polar bears swimming among the swaying ice-floes was one of the most life-like things imaginable, and beautiful beyond words. In the course of the picture a cub was captured and hoisted on to the deck of the ship. The frantic efforts of the poor mother bear to scale the side of the pitching ship from the water aroused everyone's pity and when the sailors threw the cub back into the ocean and the old mother bear swam off as fast as she could go with the baby bear hanging, with its mouth, fast to her stubby tail, everybody broke into applause.

After it was all over I said to Mr. Carnegie "Weren't you glad the old lady got her cub again?"

He looked at me, with his eyes shining and said: "Do you know I got so excited while that poor mother was trying to scale the side of that ship that I almost jumped up to run and throw the cub into the water." Then he added: "I was thinking after they threw the cub back: 'There is the difference between the hunter and the scientist. The hunter would have kept the cub and shot the mother; the scientist gives back the cub and photographs the mother.' The hunter of the future will hunt with cameras instead of guns."

One winter another eminent visitor from Hungary happened to be in America, Monsignor Giesswein, a well-known internationalist, and he wished very much to meet Mr. Carnegie. I took him up to the house one afternoon and we found Mr. Carnegie out in the garden taking the air. Together we walked back and forth and talked on many things. I think it was the first time that Mr. Carnegie had come into very close contact with an eminent continental representative of the Roman Catholic Church, and that he did not know just what was going to happen. When, however, Monsignor Giesswein said, "Mr. Carnegie, I have always wanted to meet you because of what you have done for the cause of international peace", he found himself on common ground with him at once.

I then told Mr. Carnegie that Monsignor Giesswein was one of the leaders in the new international movement in Europe and that I had first met him at The International Peace Conference at Geneva. Mr. Carnegie at once began on a topic to which, a few years later, he gave much thought, ending in some very practical action, namely, the part the Church might play in establishing lasting peace among the nations.

He said: "I look to the Churches to be the leaders in this movement to remove from the world the last remnant of barbarism, man killing man in the settlement of international disputes. It contradicts every word of the teaching of the Prince of Peace and is absolutely foreign to the spirit of His life. He taught that all men were brothers and the chief thing they have been engaged in ever since is killing each other. Sometimes it looks as though they enjoyed killing each other more than they did being brothers."

The Monsignor said: "Yes, sometimes it did look that way. But I think you will be interested in knowing, Mr. Carnegie, that a change is coming over the Churches, the Catholic Church as well as the Protestant, in their attitude toward the great problems of society. The Churches are beginning to see that they have an obligation toward society as a whole, toward the nation, as well as toward the individual. There are a good many men in the Catholic Church in Europe who are beginning to feel that the Church should address itself to the task of ridding the world of war. I wonder if you know how interested the Pope is in this matter, and have you seen his recent letter on this subject?"

"Yes," said Mr. Carnegie. "It is a great letter and I hope it will be circulated by the million. The Protestant Churches of England and America are waking up. If all the Churches of all the world would get together and say: 'There shall be no more war,' that would end it. But the trouble is that Christians put their country before their religion. No matter what iniquitous course a nation may adopt Christians will follow and the Church will bless it."

The conversation ran on and again I think that Mr. Carnegie was a little surprised to find Monsignor Giesswein more radical than he was on this question. I recall how the conversation drifted over on to the question of Christian Unity. Here was another subject on which Mr. Carnegie always waxed eloquent when it was broached.

I remember his saying with great emphasis: "If Christians were all one, in one Church, of one mind, and all the power now used in rivalry with each other unitedly directed against the evils of the world, intemperance, war, poverty, ignorance, superstition, and disease--they could all soon be banished."

Monsignor Giesswein and I both of us agreed with him absolutely but we said that we thought he probably had an exaggerated idea regarding the rivalry existing among the denominations. They were simply each one doing their own work along their own lines. They could do it more effectively could they get together--but they really were not disputing among themselves very much in these days or spreading their peculiarly denominational tenets. (I had a good many talks with Mr. Carnegie on this subject and will come back to it later.)

Mr. Carnegie and the Monsignor, who is a very lovable man, enjoyed each other very much and Mr. Carnegie invited him to come and stay with him any time.

Some years afterwards, after the great conflict had begun, I remember Mr. Carnegie saying one day: "I wonder what has happened to all my old friends in Germany and Hungary. What a strange thing it is when you think of it. Yesterday we were all talking of what we could do together to establish permanent peace and now here are Germany and Austria fighting all Europe. Take Apponyi and that nice prelate you brought to see me, Monsignor Giesswein, I suppose they probably hated this whole business as much as we do, but they are swept into the current. They are at war against some of their best friends, too, for there are many men in these various countries who had closer ties with men of like minds in other countries than in their own. That is one of the most pathetic things about war in the present day--the world has become so much one family and there are so many international groups and societies that, when a war comes and we have to re-group ourselves again by nations, it sets friend over against friend. Take yourself, for instance, if we went to war with England, you would be arrayed against Allen Baker and a lot of men who are just as close to you in every way as any American. War is an anachronism in a world that has become so much one family."

One day I took Norman Angell up to see Mr. Carnegie. Mr. Carnegie had been quite anxious to meet him. Mr. Angell's book, "The Great Illusion," had made more impression than any other book dealing with war and peace in recent years. Mr. Carnegie was never quite sure--at least when I talked with him about it--that the cost of war had any deterrent effect upon a nation. Nations generally did not go to war to make money nor, when they did go to war, did they ever think about cost. He thought Mr. Angell's contention that even the victorious nation did not really profit by a war absolutely true, but he was not sure the knowledge of this, even if the nation believed it, had any deterrent power.

He said to me the next morning after Mr. Angell had been there: "He is an interesting man and I am real glad to have met him. It is wonderful how he has set the world thinking on this whole subject. It is a good thing to teach that war does not pay. Let him and his school hammer away at it. But we who believe that war is a survival of the beast in man and is a crime which is as foul a blot on civilization as was slavery, must work all the harder to lift mankind up on to a higher plane and above all to show him the Christian methods of settling international disputes. The real reason nations enter upon war is because certain groups within the nation are not beyond the Pagan plane of development in this one regard: like those who want to fight Mexico and Japan, like those senators who oppose arbitration. When they become really Christian they won't want to kill their brothers over anything." Then turning to me he fairly shouted at me, "I'm a good deal better Christian than some of these ministers who shout war when a dispute arises between us and another country."

I might say here that, while I shared Mr. Carnegie's feelings somewhat about the deterrent effect upon nations of Mr. Angell's argument in "The Great Illusion," I think Mr. Carnegie, were he here, would agree with me that the war has proven the absolute truth of everything Mr. Angell said. It has not paid Germany and would not have done so had she been victorious. It has not paid the nations that were victorious, forced into it against their own will as they were. The whole world is infinitely worse off and every nation that participated in it is. If Germany had compelled the Allies to seek the armistice instead of the Allies compelling Germany, and if the Treaty had been framed in her favor, we should still have had an impoverished world full of revolution, hatreds, jealousies, high prices, anarchy, strikes and general unrest, as we have now. Mr. Angell really contends, to sum up his whole argument, that aggressive war is suicide. All but the blind see its truth now. If Mr. Carnegie were here I think he would feel it a good time to press this view home upon the nations.

MR. CARNEGIE was always looking forward to a united western hemisphere. I do not mean that he wanted to see all the Americas under one flag. He never did cherish that ideal. But he did believe that they were all bound together by common interests and he was always looking forward to a time when they should have some form of organization and he was always doing everything he could to promote mutual acquaintance and understanding between the United States and Mexico, Central and South America. He favored the railroad which was to go the whole length of the two continents more from a feeling that it would be a bond of union than from any financial interest. When in December, 1907, delegates from the five Central American Republics--Costa Rica, Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua and Salvador--met in Washington and concluded nine treaties and conventions looking toward the arbitration of all disputes and providing for the establishment of a Central American Court of Justice, Mr. Carnegie was so pleased that he immediately built them a beautiful court house at Cartego. (This first building was destroyed by the earthquake and Mr. Carnegie immediately built an even more beautiful structure at San Jose, Costa Rica.)

When, in 1889, while the Honorable James G. Blaine was Secretary of State, an International American Conference was held in Washington, Mr. Carnegie could hardly contain himself, so pleased was he with this step. "It's the beginning of a new era for America," he kept saying over and over. Out of this remarkable Congress the Pan-American Union was born, the assembly voting to establish "a voluntary organization of the twenty-one American Republics, including the United States, maintained by their annual contributions, controlled by a governing board composed of the diplomatic representatives in Washington, of the other twenty governments, and the Secretary of State of the United States, who is Chairman ex-officio, and devoted to the development and conservation of peace, friendship and commerce between them all."

The new union was a success from the beginning and by 1906, when Mr. Root; was Secretary of State, its permanency, as well as its usefulness, was so assured that Mr. Root wrote Mr. Carnegie asking him if he would not like to provide a permanent home for the Union. Mr. Carnegie's letter is so characteristic and so full of the joy he took in giving that I quote it here in full:

New York, January 1, 1907.

Hon. Elihu Root,

Secretary of State and ex-Officio Chairman of the Governing Board of the Bureau of South American Republics, Washington, D. C.

Dear Sir:

I am pleased that you and your colleagues of the South American Republics have done me the honor to suggest that I might furnish a suitable home in Washington for the Bureau of American Republics.

The approval of your application by the Governing Board of the International Bureau, and President Roosevelt's hearty expressions of satisfaction, are most gratifying.

You very kindly mention my membership of the first Pan-American Conference and advocacy of the Pan-American Railway, the gaps of which are being slowly filled. The importance of this enterprise impresses itself more and more upon me, and I hope to see it accomplished.

I am happy, therefore, in stating that it will be one of the pleasures of my life to furnish to the Union of all the Republics of this hemisphere, the necessary funds ($750,000) from time to time as may be needed for the construction of an international home in Washington.

The cooperation of our own Republic is seen in the appropriation of funds by Congress for the purchase of the site, and in the agreement between the Republics for the maintenance of the Bureau we have additional evidence of cooperation, so that the forthcoming American Temple of Peace will be the joint work of all of the Republics. Every generation should see them drawing closer together.

It is a cheering thought that all these are for the first time to be represented at the forthcoming league Conference. Henceforth they are members of that body, whose aim is the settlement of international disputes by that "High Court of Nations" or other similar tribunal.

I beg to express to each and all of them my heartfelt thanks for being permitted to make such a New Year's gift as this. I have never felt more keenly than I do this New Year's morning how much more blessed it is to give than to receive, and I consider myself highly honored by being considered worthy to provide the forthcoming union home, where the accredited representatives of all the Republics are to meet and, I trust, to bind together their respective nations in the bonds of unbroken peace.

Very truly yours,

ANDREW CARNEGIE.

The beautiful building was ready for dedication in 1910 and finally April 26th was set upon as the date. I happened to be in Mr. Carnegie's library about a week before this date and he was looking forward to the event as a child looks forward to its first visit to the city. He kept returning to it, no matter on what subject we might be talking. Finally he said: "You're going down, of course?"

"I want to go very much," I answered.

"Of course you must go--you and Holt, too. You go get him and come along."

Mr. Holt and I went and we all had a very happy day in Washington, Mr. Carnegie one of the happiest he ever had. It was when he saw this exquisitely beautiful white marble palace there before him that he made a remark which was quoted all over the world, but which was a perfect revelation of that childlikeness in him which was one of the chief charms of his personality. Looking at the building he exclaimed:

"I simply touch my pen to a piece of paper and this palace rises out of the ground."

He was the Modern Aladdin.

April twenty-sixth was a beautiful day and a great crowd gathered for the ceremonies. The formal dedication was held in the Hall of the Republics on the second floor of the Palace. The invited guests, including the Diplomatic Corps of all the Republics, the Supreme Court, members of the Cabinet, members of Congress and a few other invited guests, filled the Hall, while on the platform were the President of the United States (Mr. Taft), Senator Root, Secretary of State Knox, Senor Don Francisco Leon de la Barra, Cardinal Gibbons, Hon. John Barrett, Bishop Harding, and Mr. Kelsey, the architect. Mr. Holt and I had seats in the front row right under the speakers' desk and felt that we were highly favored.

The invocation was made by Cardinal Gibbons. Secretary Knox then called upon the Director of the Pan-American Union, who gave the history of the Union and of the building. Mr. Kelsey, the architect, then interpreted the building to the group. The three main addresses then followed, one by Mr. Root, one by Mr. de la Barra, speaking for the Latin Americans, one by the President. It was on this occasion Mr. Taft used the expression which Mr. Carnegie was always quoting in his future addresses and applying it to the world. He said:

"We twenty-one republics can not afford to have any two or any three of us quarrel. We must stop. And Mr. Carnegie and I will not be satisfied until all nineteen of us can intervene by proper measures to suppress a quarrel between any other two."

Again and again in the years since then Mr. Carnegie would come back to this, adding: "Only we must apply it to the world. All the nations of the world are as much one now as are the American republics. The moment any nation anywhere starts to go to war against another, the other nations should have the right to say 'You must stop.'"

There was great applause when Mr. Carnegie was introduced. He rose to the occasion as he always did. He paid feeling tribute to all who had been associated with him in the fostering of the Bureau of South American Republics, who had brought the Pan-American Union to its present success, and spoke especially of Senor Nabuco, Brazil's great Ambassador, who had only recently passed away.

He then complimented the Latin American nations on the great progress they had made, and pleased them greatly with his words. The main part of his address was devoted to the thought to which he was continually recurring in his public address, that acquaintanceship breeds friendship rather than dislike, and that it was contrary to the laws of human nature for a man to be fit judge of his own cause. Let me quote from the middle of his address, not only because of what is in it, but because it was carefully listened to by such an audience as very few men ever had opportunity of addressing:

"Mr. Chairman, fully am I persuaded that the rulers and statesmen of the earth, all of whom are to-day constantly proclaiming their earnest desire for peace, are sincere in their protestations. Why, then, is this universally desired peace not promptly secured? Equally am I persuaded that the true root of the failure lies in the fact that these rulers and statesmen know not each other well. They are strangers, and therefore naturally and mutually suspicious. When a difference arises, they meet as strangers, knowing not the sincerity, the truthfulness, the keen sense of honor, and the earnest desire for peace of their fellow-statesmen. The French have a proverb--'We only hate those we do not know.' The reverse is also self-evidently true--'We only love those we do know.'

"Two men differ; if strangers, the probable result is strife. Two friends differ; the probable result is peaceful settlement either by themselves, or, failing that, by arbitration of friends, and the two friends become dearer to each other than before. Why? Because neither has assumed to sit as judge in his own cause, which violates the first principles of natural justice. The greatest crime that either man or nation can commit is to insist upon doing that which would consign the judge upon the bench to infamy if he ever dared to sit in judgment upon a cause in which he was an interested party. In nations which still tolerate the duel, its practice is rapidly falling into disrepute, and a court of honor is coming into general use, first to determine whether the two foes are justified in breaking the peace.

"One of the chief missions of this palace should be, as their natural home, to draw together the diplomats and representative men of all our Republics and enable them to know each other and learn of the sterling virtues of their colleagues, and especially their earnest desire for the prosperity of all their neighbors and their anxious hope that peace shall ever reign between them. Thus these statesmen will become lifelong friends to whom may safely be intrusted the settlement of any international difference that may arise. Above all, we may expect that between such friends no one would insist upon sitting as judge upon his own cause were the other to propose leaving the difference to a mutual friend. This, then, is one of the greatest missions of this international meeting ground in which we are assembled. Nor will its mission be fulfilled until every Republic, and, I fondly hope, Canada also included, shall have agreed to lay aside the sword."

At the close of these formal exercises we all went down into the court, or "patio," as it is called in Latin America. The space was filled with tropical plants and in warm weather the great glass roof slides back by electricity so that it is an open garden. In this patio Mr. Taft and Mr. Carnegie together planted a "peace tree." (I have the photograph taken at the time. Mr. Taft is holding the shovel, and Mr. Carnegie stands beside him, his face all benevolence and smiles.) In the evening the Governing Board of the Bureau gave a reception, to the President of the United States and Mr. and Mrs. Carnegie. About fifteen hundred people shook hands with them, after which supper was served downstairs. Just before we went away I went up to Mr. Carnegie to say goodnight to him. I said, "How beautiful it all is--and how happy you have been to-day."

"Yes, it's like a dream," he answered and then, with that delightful little glint of fun that occasionally came into his eyes, he said: "You know how much I have written about rich men being sad? Well, to-night I'm rather glad I'm rich."

ONE day we were sitting in the big library which faces Fifth Avenue and from which one looks across to Central Park, talking about poetry. Suddenly he said, "I will read you a real poem," whereupon he went off into his little den which is on the south end of the library, and returned with a piece of cardboard in his hand--and I have that cardboard before me as I write, with Mr. Carnegie's autograph on it.

"Here's one of the best poems I've seen in a long time," he said. "It's really worthy of Burns. It appeared in the Dunfermline Press and was signed simply by the initials 'R. C.' I havn't any idea who the man is; but as soon as I read the poem I sat down and wrote a letter to the Dunfermline Press and I've since printed the poem and my letter together on this card. Let me read it to you."

It was a perfect delight to hear Mr. Carnegie recite poetry, especially Scotch verse. He had the Celtic temperament and dramatic instinct to the full. He once told me that Henry Irving said to him at Skibo after hearing him recite some verses--very likely these very verses, for he loved to recite them: "You would have made a greater actor than me had you gone on the stage, Mr. Carnegie."

Well, Mr. Carnegie straightened himself up, standing in front of the fireplace, and with tears glistening in his eyes recited the following verses. I think my readers will all agree with Mr. Carnegie, as I did, that they are real poetry:

"Now hear what I wrote to the Dunfermline Press--the letter is printed on this card. I said:

"'Dear Sir: Please tell "R. C." that I have greatly enjoyed his verses. He is both philosopher and poet, but he cannot know, as I do, how trifling are the advantages of wealth. He has to imagine one side. I have lived both, and have learned that

"If happiness has not its seat
        And centre in the breast,
     We may be wise, or rich, or great,
        But never can be blessed."

Beyond a competence for old age, and that need not be great, and may be very small, wealth lessens rather than increases human happiness. Millionaires who laugh are rare. This is just as it should be, and "R. C." has done a bit of good work (better than most sermons) in putting a great truth so vividly before us.

"'I hope he has more of such ore to smelt. Yours truly, Andrew Carnegie.'"

"That's a good letter," I said, "but the trouble is nobody believes you when you talk about wealth being a burden."

"I suppose that's true," he answered. "But I have worked infinitely harder trying to make the right disposition of money than I ever did to earn it. Money just came. But it came to me and it is my duty to put it where it will do most for human betterment. Does anyone think it's an easy task to distribute four hundred million dollars wisely, distribute it as if one were going to be called to give an account of it some day? It's the most terrible responsibility that ever fell upon a man. Sometimes I just wish I could get rid of all the worry of it for good--and be care-free as when I was a boy. But it has been a great pleasure, of course, to see the results of what has been given."

I have had occasion several times to speak of Mr. Carnegie's love for music. So far as I know he had had no training in it--it was simply the response of a poetic, romantic nature to the appeal of harmony and melody. It transported him. He sought rest and refreshment in it from the many cares and problems that were incidental to his vast affairs. But it was much more than that. It was worship to him. He prayed not with words but through music. The voice of the eternal reached him through the organ, or the orchestra, or the voice. He loved especially the organ and the oratorios. He was also very fond of a big orchestra, especially when it played the great symphonies. He did not enjoy the modern complex orchestral music quite so much. His nature was too simple to feel the appeal of the turbulency and complexities of the later schools. The opera he liked occasionally, but much of the modern opera was too dramatic and intense for his calm and reposeful soul. He surrounded himself with music. He had an organ in the hall of the house on Fifth Avenue and had a musician come in regularly to flood the house with sweet tones. He loved to hear it early in the day, when he was rising or breakfasting. He once said to me jokingly: "This is the only extravagance I have." Then he added: "But what better way to begin the day than with music. It's my morning worship." It really was worship with him. I have referred to the fact that he was always quoting the great sentence of Confucius: "Music, sacred Tongue of God, I hear thee calling and I come." He always did come. A strain of music would arrest him anywhere and almost the only times I ever saw him angry were when people carried on conversation during music. To talk while music was being played was as much sacrilege to him as it would be sacrilege to a devout Catholic to talk while the Host was being elevated. I doubt if he ever had the same respect afterwards for a man or woman who carried on conversation during music.

He showed his interest in music in many ways besides giving Church organs. He was President of the New York Oratorio Society for many years and attended all its concerts. The chorus would now and then come to his house and sing for him--on a birthday, or at Christmas time--and he would then make the most delightful addresses. I remember one outstanding night in Carnegie Hall. We were at that time seemingly on the verge of war with Mexico. The Central and South American states had offered their services as arbitrators in the difficulty. Mr. Carnegie had, with voice and pen, been advocating the acceptance of this offer. The evening on which the concert of the Oratorio Society came was the critical evening. Washington had been deliberating all through the day. Feeling was very tense but no news appeared in the evening paper. About nine o'clock a telegram came to him from Washington that the offer to arbitrate had been accepted. It was immediately carried to Mr. Carnegie at the Hall. The moment the intermission in the Oratorio came he hurried around to the stage and appeared before the audience. Everybody supposed he was simply going to make one of those delightful speeches of appreciation, as President of the Society, which he frequently made on anniversary occasions or at the closing concert of the season. But he was too full of joy over what had happened to think of the Society at that moment. Holding the telegram aloft in his hand he told the audience the good news--that war had been averted, that the two Nations, the United States and Mexico, had agreed to settle their dispute by arbitration--that it marked another great step forward in the world's history, that two nations had come to see that a nation could no more be a judge of its own case than could a man--that they in that hall were in the presence of a great moment, and at what more fitting time could the news come than when they were surrounded by music--for music was the expression of peace, harmony, happiness, through law.

Great applause greeted Mr. Carnegie's announcement for no one except the jingoes really wanted war with Mexico, but Mr. Carnegie was not done. When he had got through with Mexico he turned to the several hundred singers who surrounded him and began talking about their music--and about them. I wish I could recall his words. They were very beautiful and, as always, just the right words. He knew how to pay a compliment as well as anyone I ever knew. He said the thing that made everybody happy and yet did not overdo it. I remember that he did say to the singers that every time he heard them it gave him a foretaste of heaven, that he could understand why the poet always pictured heaven in terms of music, that music was the one thing in this world that was always sure, that it was the one thing that would be the same in all worlds, it was built on eternal lines, and then, turning again to the singers, he said: "If I could hear you sing in heaven as you have sung here to-night, I should be satisfied."

I was upstairs in Mr. Bertram's box but I hurried down to Mr. Carnegie's on the floor below and arrived there just before he did. When he came in he was as happy as a child--all radiant.

"Isn't it great news?" he said at once. "It is not so much that this present crisis has passed, for I do not think we would have had war with Mexico anyhow. It is the example to the world. When a great Nation like ours consents to arbitrate it sets a precedent. Other great nations can do it more easily now." (I often think of these words when I remember how Grey--as afterwards Prince Lichnowsky testified--in trying to persuade Austria and Germany to arbitrate the case with Serbia referred to just such cases of successful arbitration as these of the United States and other nations.) The music began and I went back to my chair leaving Mr. Carnegie with eyes closed and Mexico and everything else forgotten.

I HAD a good many talks with Mr. Carnegie on education. He had very pronounced views as everybody knows, and gave expression to them in many addresses and in his letter founding the Technical Schools at Pittsburgh. In that letter he said: "It is really astonishing how many of the world's foremost men have begun as manual laborers. The greatest of all, Shakespeare, was a wool carder; Burns, a plowman; Columbus, a sailor; Hannibal, a blacksmith; Lincoln, a rail-splitter; Grant, a turner, and I know of no better foundation from which to ascend than manual labor in youth." This last sentence was something of a creed with Mr. Carnegie and I am not sure that he ever could have come to put so high a value on cultural training as some of us do. I think he really felt that Oxford and Cambridge were wasting a very precious lot of time on the classics and philosophy, and have known him to get quite heated on this subject and sometimes to speak with considerable contempt of the whole classical curriculum. He had such a strong conviction that the first essential of training was to fit a boy to become self-supporting and independent and also contribute directly to his family that it was difficult for him to see the value of a training which might not contribute so much to these immediate things as to a certain largeness of character, breadth of vision, and power of leadership in later times. And yet he was continually making great donations to those colleges which stressed entirely the cultural side of education. The colleges which have, almost above all others adhered to the cultural traditions are those of Scotland. He established in the Scottish Universities a trust of $10,000,000 for assisting boys of slender income to avail themselves of University training, or, to quote his own words, "by rendering attendance at these universities and the enjoyment of their advantages more available to the deserving and qualified youth of that country to whom the payment of fees might act as a barrier to the enjoyment of these advantages." (It is significant, however, that, while not in any wise dictating how the large income of this trust was to be spent, he did say in his Trust Deed: "Deeming it to be my duty and one of my highest privileges to administer the wealth which has come to me as a trustee on behalf of others, and entertaining the confident belief that one of the best means of my discharging that trust is by providing funds for improving and extending the opportunities for scientific study and research in the Universities of Scotland, my native land.". . . Here one finds the emphasis on "scientific" creeping in, and in the constitution of the Trust--which Mr. Carnegie did not write, but in which the trustees naturally tried to carry out Mr. Carnegie's educational ideals to some extent--it is provided that half the annual income shall go toward the expansion of the faculties of science and of medicine. The other half of the income is for the use of any deserving boy taking any course. Mr. Carnegie also gave large sums to other colleges where the cultural ideal is uppermost.

As a matter of fact, while he had considerable appreciation of the classics, he thought that all there was of worth in them could be had by reading them in English. I think, too, that he felt they were somewhat overestimated--that they had been made somewhat of a fetish. He was a great believer in evolution in the realm of the spirit and of the mind as well as in the world of material things, and so, while the past was valuable, as sources are always important, yet the present was better and somewhat sufficient to itself. On the other hand, he was often quoting the ancient sages.

I was present once at a discussion on education, where he expressed himself very freely. It was at a little dinner at the home of Prof. Samuel T. Dutton. Among those at the table was Principal Frissell, of Hampton Institute, who shared Mr. Carnegie's views on the supremacy of vocational and industrial training. The talk naturally ran along the line of education, as there were three other distinguished leaders in education present. Dr. Frissell was advancing the idea that the whole curriculum of our colleges was antiquated, and that the chief emphasis should be placed on the vocational side, and, except for the special boy, training in science, mechanics and handwork should receive chief attention. The whole emphasis of the conversation was leaning toward doing. Mr. Carnegie was rather falling in with these views. I suddenly ventured the question whether there was not something to be said for education for being as well as for doing, and I reminded Mr. Carnegie that for several generations Scotland had been producing man after man who had been of outstanding character and ability, and that not only in Scotland, but in England these men who had been doing the big things were men who had been educated in the great cultural schools, and had generally been trained with little thought of what they were to do in after life, The British point of view seemed to be: "Make a big man and he can do anything."

To this Mr. Carnegie replied: "There is some danger that we who believe that technical and scientific education is the chief thing, will become as extreme in our views as the advocates of the classical training are in theirs. What we have got to do is so to balance our education that boys should be taught to do some one thing well and at the same time be able to appreciate the best things in life. The only thing that I insist on is that boys should be educated for the world in which they live and not for a world which has passed away. This means adaptation of our colleges to the times and I am not sure they are all making these adaptations."

At this same dinner he got to talking about the influence of women. On this subject he waxed eloquent. He was a little afraid of the feminist movement, not feeling quite sure about its consequences, and because of his own experience of what a wonderful sphere the home offered the real woman. He said: "A woman who can enter into the life of her husband, sharing all his cares, bringing to him a refining influence that counteracts the coarser elements of the world in which he works, who makes a really beautiful home, and brings up children to be fine, good men and women, does more for the world than any woman can ever do in politics or public life."

He then told us about his mother--what a wonderful woman she had been--how wise and brave. This led him to talk about Dunfermline and his boyhood. He always had a tender place for Scotland in his heart, and returned there every summer until the war came. But he loved America, his adopted country and the country which gave him his great opportunity, and was a most loyal citizen. He used often to say: "One can love his mother and his wife at the same time." But the home of his childhood was often in his thoughts and sometimes I think the most beautiful thing he ever wrote was the letter in which he conveyed Pittencrief Park and Glen, and two million five hundred thousand dollars to the corporation of Dunfermline. Let me quote one or two passages here, for they deserve wide publicity and show how really Mr. Carnegie bore upon his heart the welfare of the people:

"The trust deed, of which this may be considered explanatory, transfers to you Pittencrief Park and Glen, and two million five hundred thousand dollars in five per cent. bonds, giving you an annual revenue of twenty-five thousand pounds, all to be used in attempts to bring into the monotonous lives of the toiling masses of Dunfermline more of sweetness and light; to give to them--especially the young--some charm, some happiness, some elevating condition of life which residence elsewhere would have denied; that the child of my native town, looking back in after years, however far from home it may have roamed, will feel that simply by virtue of being such, life has been made happier and better. If this be the fruit of your labor you will have succeeded; if not, you will have failed."

Here is another passage from this same letter:

"The problem you have to solve is: What can be done in towns for the benefit of the masses by money in the hands of the most public spirited citizens? If you prove that good can be done, you open new fields to the rich, which I am certain they are to be more and more anxious to find for their surplus wealth. Remember, you are pioneers, and do not be afraid of making mistakes; those who never make mistakes never make anything. Try many things freely, but discard just as freely. As it is the masses you are to benefit, it follows you have to keep in touch with them and must carry them with you. Therefore, do not put before their first steps that which they cannot take easily, but always that which leads upward as their tastes improve."

WHEN I wrote my first book on international affairs, "The Peace Problem," I took the page proof to Mr. Carnegie and asked him if he would write an introduction to the book. When I went after it again about a week afterwards, I found he had gone through the pages with most meticulous care, and made several corrections and suggestions, and had even corrected trifling errors of punctuation. His corrections were all improvements and we talked over some suggested changes for a long time. When I told him how much I appreciated his giving so much time and attention to this book he laughingly said: "You ought to put my name on here as joint author." "All right," I said, "I've no objections. It would probably greatly increase its sale."

"I don't think we need worry about its sale," he said with a mischievous look in his eyes. (He afterwards distributed the book somewhat widely throughout the country.)

He gave me the introduction and I noticed at once it was in the extremest form of simplified spelling. I wanted to say: "Won't you put it in the English language Mr. Carnegie?"--but said nothing. When I took it to the publishers, though, it was another matter. They hesitated over it a long time, then finally printed it just as he wrote it: "I hav red this book, &c., &c." When I told him about it he laughed and said: "Publishers are a backward and benighted lot anyhow."

I then told him the story of how, when the journal with which I was connected--"The Christian Work"--had, under Dr. Joseph Newton Hallock, begun to adopt certain of the new spellings, one of the subscribers, a dear old lady, wrote in, asking to be dropped from the subscription list, because, she said: "I do not want to pick up any paper after my dear husband dies and read: 'Dr. is very much mist.'" He and Dr. Hallock stuck to their principles to the end and Mr. Carnegie never quite forgave me for reverting to the old spelling after I had bought The Christian Work.

"All right, I will," I replied, "but I'll make you consulting editor."

"Don't ask me to write the Theological Articles," he said.

When it came to the financial problem he at once smoothed out all difficulties--a service that he had rendered to a good many men in the same situation--and The Christian Work came into my hands. Mr. Carnegie came to look upon it, and The Independent, edited by another of his younger friends, Dr. Hamilton Holt, as the two chief organs of the new international order and frequently used them both, Mr. Holt and I regularly printing his annual addresses before the New York Peace Society and upon other occasions.

Speaking of Mr. Carnegie's interest in persons, he had a very tender spot in his heart for the companions of his early years, and for those with whom he had cooperated during the later years. I do not know how many individuals were on his pension list sooner or later. But it was not only that they were on his pension list. He took a personal interest in them and kept in touch with them. One day I was walking around the Lake in Central Park with him and suddenly he pulled a letter out of his pocket.

"Listen to this," he said. "This is a letter from an old lady to whom I have been sending a pension for years. She writes me the most beautiful letters. Let me read you a line or two."

He read a few lines telling in very simple but touching language her appreciation of what he had done for her.

"There now," he said, and there were tears in his eyes, "I'd rather get that letter than any engrossed resolution for any million dollars I ever gave."

Several times I went to him to lay before him cases where some one who had come to grief financially needed assistance or to suggest the pensioning of some woman whose husband, a worker in some worthy cause, had suddenly died, and always he was the most sympathetic man imaginable. And it should be remembered that he received several hundred begging letters every week.

It is commonly thought that these letters never got beyond Mr. Bertram's or Mr. Poynton's eyes. But Mr. Carnegie saw a great many more of them than people realized and gave them his personal attention. He was not like Charles Sumner. It will be recalled that once some friend of Sumner's wrote him from Boston--it was a woman, one of the leaders of the Boston anti-slavery group--asking him if he could not do something for a certain individual in Washington at that time. The Senator wrote back, that in the great pressure of public duty he had no time to devote to individuals. His friend wrote back the simple words, "It's fortunate the Lord still has time to consider individuals."

WHILE Mr. Carnegie welcomed suggestions as to wise ways of using money--and I suppose he received several thousand a year--he was a very shrewd man and could easily detect anything in the nature of what to-day we would call camouflage. He was always being invited to be one of the speakers at a dinner or luncheon where the real aim was to put some cause before him and get him to subscribe the necessary funds. Thus I remember so well one occasion when he was persuaded to attend a luncheon at the City Club where a certain cause was to be considered. The man who had been instrumental in arranging the luncheon took the opportunity, when he made the opening speech, to lay before the assembled company every need of the cause even to one more stenographer in the office. The whole address was so self-evidently made for Mr. Carnegie's benefit that most of those present were really a little vexed over it. The speaker had Mr. Carnegie in a trap and was not going to let the opportunity go by. We all wondered how Mr. Carnegie would take it. As usual he took it as a good joke. He saw through the ruse at once and made a very tantalizing speech. He dwelt on the fact that the story of the struggles of the organization had greatly impressed him, that struggle was a good thing for either a man or an organization--it developed strength--and he hoped they would go right on struggling and no one could be more interested in the outcome than he; that often he was appealed to for subscriptions that would lift organizations beyond all need of struggle, but he had not felt it wise generally to do this (here our friend's countenance began to fall), though he would, of course, be glad always to do his part in any worthy cause that interested him.

He really got a good deal of fun out of this occasion and it was perfectly evident that he saw through the whole scheme. He went away, not the least bit angry, and the next day sent for me to come to the house. He said "That whole speech of ----'s was so self-evident yesterday, wasn't it? He had me where I couldn't escape, but he's a very able man and really has done pioneer work in the greatest cause in the world. I rather think I'll make his Society an allowance of a few thousand dollars a years. What do you think of it?" I told him it would be a good thing, and he did so. He had not taken the slightest offence at the ill-timed appeal. The work merited support and he contributed to it.

It was very difficult for ardent supporters of some cause to resist making an indirect appeal when they happened to be speaking at some banquet where he was also a speaker. The banquet might have been given by a society devoted to forestry, but if a temperance worker, or a secretary of a society for children's welfare, or the head of an organization for the reform of prisons happened to be present, he would often take the occasion to relate the subject of forestry to his hobby and then let himself go upon it, putting all the facts he could into a twenty minute address. It highly amused Mr. Carnegie, who immediately caught on to the whole thing, and he would often comment on it afterwards; but he never referred to it in his own speech so far as I can remember.

He rather enjoyed a banquet if a congenial company was present and there was good speaking. He could be the wittiest of them all if he got into the mood. Who, of those present, will ever forget his speech at the Annual Dinner of the Men's Bible Class of the Fifth Avenue Baptist Church, of which Mr. John D. Rockefeller, Jr., was then President. He presided this night. At Mr. Carnegie's side sat an old-time friend, a clergyman who had begun his career about the same time as Mr. Carnegie, and had won much reputation as well as success. Mr. Carnegie greatly admired him, and when his turn to speak came, referred to his old friend in these words: "We both followed the prophets, only I used the simplified spelling." Of course everybody roared and it was a long time before the laughter subsided sufficiently for Mr. Carnegie to go on. Such spontaneous wit was always bubbling from him, and I could give many instances.

He never liked smoking and was pretty strict in his opinions about it. I think it was a considerable effort for him to countenance anyone smoking in the presence of others who did not smoke. He was particularly averse to men smoking at banquets where women were present. At a dinner where he was presiding--I think it was a banquet of the National Civic Federation--some one near the speakers' table said, "Mr. Carnegie, is it permissible for gentlemen to smoke in the presence of the ladies?" Mr. Carnegie immediately responded, "Gentlemen don't want to smoke where ladies are present"--that settled the question.

He enjoyed a good story on himself even when it was directed at some principle which was deep-rooted in his nature. Mr. Carnegie was a great believer in stimulating others to give, and once said to me that he thought he had raised as many million dollars for various institutions as he had himself given. Consequently he was all the time saying to various men or organizations asking for money: "You raise half the sum you need and I will give the other half." At a banquet at the Lotus Club one night, at which Mr. Carnegie was a guest of honor, one of the speakers, an intimate friend of Mr. Carnegie's, when he began to speak, went on something after this fashion: "I had a dream the other night and dreamed that Mr. Carnegie suddenly presented himself before St. Peter at the gates of Heaven and asked if he might go in. St. Peter looked him over, asked him who he was, consulted his records, and after a while said the balance sheet was all right, but suddenly demanded: 'Have you got your crown?' 'No,' answered Mr. Carnegie, 'I supposed you furnished the crown.' 'Well,' responded St. Peter, 'I'll furnish half if you'll raise the other half.'" Nobody enjoyed the story more than did Mr. Carnegie himself.

There was a group of men, with my father-in-law, Professor Samuel T. Dutton, at the head, who were intent on having a great international building erected in New York. Their thought was that it should be a structure imposing enough to stand out among the finer buildings of the city as a striking monument to the cause and should at the same time house all the international groups--the peace societies, the Japan-American Society, the American-Scandinavian Foundation, the Pan-American Society and all the rest. Professor Dutton also wanted a Club handsomely fitted up on one floor, with suites of rooms, where distinguished visitors from other countries might be entertained. There was also to be a large hall for all international functions, and lectures, and the whole thing crowned by a great library on internationalism. He had broached the subject to Mr. Carnegie from time to time, and at last interested him in the idea. But Mr. Carnegie was always cautious about committing himself to a project until he had thought it all through very carefully and pretty thoroughly visualized it in his own mind. Finally Professor Dutton arranged a little luncheon of about thirty mutual friends of Mr. Carnegie and himself at the Yale Club to get exchanges of opinion on the subject. Mr. Carnegie was much interested in the discussion. I recall that Mr. Walter Page, who had not then been appointed American Ambassador to the Court of St. James, was present and made a most felicitous address. Mr. Carnegie asked many questions and finally made a short address. It was a purely spontaneous address, because before the luncheon no one had been asked to speak. It was one of his best utterances on the oneness of the human race. In the course of it he told us how he had been for years an admirer of Confucius, and the more he read of his sayings the more impressed he was with their similarity to the teachings of Christ. Sometimes they used almost the same language. It was a revelation to him of the oneness of all great souls. Two or three of the speakers had dwelt upon the necessity of strengthening the unity of the British and American peoples, and on this theme he foreshadowed some of those utterances that have been everywhere current since the close of the war. I remember especially his saying how, if all the English speaking peoples of the world could stand together for the newer ideals of justice, brotherhood and good-will, they together could keep the peace of the world. He thought that it would be a splendid thing if our Congress would invite a great delegation of the British Parliament to be its guests for a month or two, and the British Parliament would invite a similar delegation from America. It would work wonders in the way of promoting such unity.

"They might even hold some joint sessions," he said with a smile, "to discuss our common problems and tasks. One of the great causes of friction between nations," he continued, "is that people of one country do not know the people of another and consequently cannot understand them. Acquaintance always precedes comprehension of other peoples." I do not know what might have come of this project for the international building had the war not broken out.

IT WAS at a meeting of the Armstrong Association at the home of Mr. William J. Schieffelin, its President, that Mr. Carnegie made his testimony to foreign missions. The Armstrong Association was created to work for Hampton Institute. It was Hampton's representative at New York. For its annual meeting Mr. Schieffelin used to invite the members to his beautiful home. At this meeting reports of the work were submitted by Dr. Frissell and some one especially interested in the advancement of the colored people was invited to speak. On this occasion Mr. Carnegie was the speaker and dwelt upon the value of technical training for all boys--not colored boys alone. He recalled the fact that many years ago his grandfather had written an article in a British paper called "Handication versus Headication," and how in that article his grandfather had thanked God that in his youth he had learned how to make shoes. This was a favorite theme of Mr. Carnegie's and I need not quote here his well-known view on technical education. In some way he got upon the theme that the one thing we ought to do for China was to put a lot of Tuskegees and Hamptons in her midst.

Then he said, "Perhaps some of you have sometime heard me speak somewhat critically of foreign missions. It is true I used to have a prejudice against different sects going to China or India and trying to make converts to their particular creeds. But after I visited those countries and saw what medical missions and our schools were doing, I changed my mind and I came home thoroughly convinced that we could make no greater gift to these people." Then he added: "I sometimes wish we could put all our missionary work under undenominational agencies, as the Young Men's Christian Association does its work."

I afterwards recalled this testimony to missions to Mr. Carnegie and asked him if he had seen Mr. Taft's most eulogistic praise of the missionaries in the Philippines. He had not seen it and asked me what he had said. I sent him the passage in Mr. Taft's address, made, if I remember rightly, before a meeting of the Laymen's Missionary Association, where he spoke of the remarkable things the missionaries had done in the Far East and the Philippines wherever he had been, and how they had always been back of him in any reform he had undertaken. "That's a very fine tribute," was Mr. Carnegie's comment.

I think I might depart from my subject for a moment here to say that one evening in October, 1919, while at dinner at Lambeth palace, I related to the Archbishop of Canterbury the remarkable tribute our Ambassador to Turkey, Mr. Morgenthau, who is, as all know, of the Jewish faith, had paid to the missionaries in Turkey. I told the Archbishop that Mr. Morgenthau had been making many addresses on behalf of Armenian Relief, and that again and again, he had said that the missionaries were the statesmen of the Near East, that they had shown most marked ability in administering relief and had been of the greatest aid to the government in all its undertakings. The Archbishop was greatly impressed by this and asked me if I would not, when I returned to America, have exact copies of Mr. Morgenthau's words made, as he could make good use of them.

One of the most amusing incidents I ever witnessed happened one afternoon in Mr. Carnegie's library. It threw more light upon international complications and the origin of wars than whole volumes of political essays. Mr. Carnegie was never tired of referring to it as an illustration of the inevitable feature of an unorganized world. We were sitting before the fire talking when suddenly a young Englishman was announced bearing a card of introduction from an eminent member of the British government, a friend of Mr. Carnegie's. Of course Mr. Carnegie welcomed him heartily. Very soon he told us that he had come on a confidential errand from England to see prominent Americans and tell them what was going on in Germany--this was five years before the war, remember--how Germany was building up a vast army and enlarging her fleets and that they in England had good reason to believe that it was all part of a well laid plan eventually to invade England. They thought Americans ought to know this and be acting accordingly. Hardly had the Englishman left the room when a well-known publisher, a friend of Mr. Carnegie, was ushered in. He knew nothing of the Englishman's visit, although he must have passed him in the hall. He had just arrived in America, straight from Germany, and was full of his European experiences.

After a moment he said, "I saw many of your friends in Berlin, Mr. Carnegie, and they are all worried over England's naval activities. They thoroughly believe that England is building this vast navy with ulterior purposes against Germany. In fact one or two of your friends asked me to bring this matter to your attention."

When the publisher had gone, Mr. Carnegie turned to me and said, "There you have it, there's war right in the making. How can such a condition as that end in anything but war? If you had a League of Nations now, there would not be any need of either of these nations increasing their armaments on this vast scale, and if either one began its armament it would have to give its reasons before the whole council of nations." (It is interesting to note that that is just the provision that is in the present League of Nations Covenant. )

Mr. Carnegie could sometimes be very severe where carelessness was evinced on someone's part; but the bigness of his nature was displayed in the fact that if he called someone severely to account for what he considered carelessness or imprudence, and afterwards found himself in the wrong, he would put himself out to say that he was in error and do everything possible to make amends. I had two or three experiences of this sort which led to such a revelation of his magnanimity that they greatly increased my admiration for him and deepened the friendship between us.

The first was when I came home from Europe in August, 1914. I had been caught in Constance, which lies in the South Eastern corner of Germany, when the war broke out. I had about thirty Americans and Englishmen with me who were the guests of Mr. Carnegie and the Church Peace Union (one of his endowments) at a Conference of Churchmen. I saw the war clouds gathering in England, France and Germany during the latter part of July. Some of the Englishmen in our party were members of Parliament, and not only close to the British Government, but had intimate relation with influential Germans. I knew from first-hand contact what efforts Sir Edward Grey was making to check Austria and Germany in their mad career. I left Constance and got to London in time for the great evening in Parliament when England decided that it was her duty to enter the conflict. I had the English White Book giving a full account of all the correspondence between England and Germany and Austria in my hand the moment it was issued. (I brought the first copy of the White Book to America and gave it to the New York Times, which printed it in full in a special Supplement of its Sunday issue.) I left England on the "Laconia" shortly after the war began, and on the steamer I wrote a book called "Through Europe on the Eve of War," in which I told the truth. The book was off the press ten days after I had been home and was soon in the hands of thousands of readers. Mr. Carnegie read it with great delight and, as I was at the house almost daily for a while after he had returned from Europe, we often spoke about it. Mr. Carnegie was trying very hard to remain neutral, both because of President Wilson's request, and because he could not believe at first that the Kaiser and other Germans in the Government whom he knew intimately, could have deliberately and cold-bloodedly perpetrated this diabolical thing. Everything went well until someone--he would never tell me who it was--took a copy of the book and marked about twenty passages where I had said that Germany was deliberately guilty of the whole affair and had long been making preparations for it. It greatly disturbed him and he sent for me at once. J. Allen Baker, M. P., was in New York at the time and he asked him to come also. We went through the book together and Mr. Carnegie frankly told me that he greatly regretted my having written those things, that I had violated our neutrality, that it would greatly hinder any future influence of the Endowment of which I had charge with Germany, that if Germany got hold of the book (Germany did get the book and I was most heartily damned both by Germans in Germany and in the United States) it might even lead to international complications.

From his point of view Mr. Carnegie was right and we discussed the matter for several days. My only defense was that I had told the truth, and that time would reveal it. But I have no purpose in relating the incident here except to say that several months afterwards, when the whole truth had been revealed, and the German methods in Europe and the machinations in America so disgusted Mr. Carnegie that he became the most ardent pro-Ally in the country--this was before we entered the war, and he was in heartiest sympathy with that act--he took occasion to say to me one day, "I want to tell you how much I regret losing my temper over your book. I see now that you were absolutely in the right, and we would all of us have done well if we had seen the truth right at the beginning and told it plainly as you did."

"Oh," I said, "I had forgotten all about it long ago."

"But I had not," he said.

MR. CARNEGIE was the most original philanthropist the world has ever known. He evinced more genius in distributing money than he did in earning it, although he accumulated one of the largest fortunes known to history. One of the shrewdest business men that ever lived, he was an idealist. I do not know any other man who has combined in himself the man of affairs and the man of great vision so perfectly as he. He naturally enjoyed making money, but, as he often said, he enjoyed giving it away infinitely more. He once said to me, "These latter years of my life when I have been giving my money away have been my happiest years." All who knew him intimately will remember how engrossed and happy he was in working out some scheme for an endowment or a college or a library. He was always talking with those whom he knew intimately and in whom he had confidence about the right use of his money. Practically all of his gifts, though, eventually were dedicated to causes and movements in which he was especially interested. Even his most intimate friends could seldom persuade him to give large sums to anything in which he was not personally interested or of which he had not made a special study. I remember so well how a certain group, made up of men very close to him, tried to get him interested in giving a large sum toward the preservation of the health of the nation, the extension of human life, public hygiene and related movements. He appreciated its value, and believed in it. But it was never possible to get him interested in it. He would simply say: "It's a great thing; but that's Rockefeller's sphere. Get him to do it." (He did, however, give quite large sums for Professor Koch's work in Berlin and Madame Curie's in Paris.) He simply had not grown up in it. It had not become a part of him.

If one looks over the recently published record of Mr. Carnegie's gifts, "A Manual of the Public Benefactions of Andrew Carnegie" (a remarkable volume containing the deed of gift written by Mr. Carnegie with each gift, which, taken together, throw more light on Mr. Carnegie's character and genius than almost anything extant), he will note that practically every endowment is his means of perpetuating the ideals which were peculiarly his own and to which he had devoted his life. Thus he himself once said: "It is, no doubt, possible that my own personal experience may have led me to value a free library beyond all other forms of beneficence." Music inspired and healed him. He was always quoting the great sentence of Confucius: "Music, sacred tongue of God, I hear thee calling and I come." Consequently he gave organs to the churches. He had always regretted the lack of educational opportunity when he was a boy and he was an ardent believer in vocational training, hence his vast gifts to technical schools and colleges. He honored the teacher and was always saying that he should be freed from financial worries to do his best work; hence the pension fund. He believed it took much more heroism to save life than to take it, to live nobly through trying crises than to die fighting; hence the Hero Fund. So it was with all his gifts. They were associated with his boyhood, or given in gratitude for some great blessing that had come to him, or were means whereby to achieve the ideals for which he himself was laboring.

Should I begin to record here the things I have heard Mr. Carnegie say about his various gifts I could fill volumes. There are others, too, who were more intimately related to him in some of these special fields of activity than was I. But he was in the habit of talking very freely with his friends and there are some things which, although they may have been recorded at some previous time, deserve attention again if we are fully to understand this really great man.

Perhaps the benefactions by which Mr. Carnegie is most widely known to the public at large are the public libraries. In three thousand cities distributed all over the world stand these buildings, of brick or marble or other stone. In almost every instance they are not only the public university of the town, but they are also things of beauty. (I have gone over the pictures of them with Mr. Carnegie by the hour, and in almost every instance the library is of real architectural beauty. Often it was the first real piece of architecture to grace the town. The best architects designed them, and Mr. Carnegie himself had a great eye for architectural effect. He wanted the building to be educational as well as the books within it. He used to get great enjoyment in turning over the pictures of these libraries and had interesting stories connected with many of them. He once said, as we were looking at a picture, which had just arrived, of a new library--it was about five o'clock--"Sometimes I like to sit here in the quiet at about this time and picture in my mind the thousands of schoolboys sitting in those reading rooms reading the books I put there. And, you know, sometimes--isn't it strange?--I see myself, a little fellow, sitting there among them. The thing I enjoy most about these gifts for libraries is that they work day and night. There isn't an hour that thousands all over the world are not reading those books--and will always be reading them. And sometimes when I feel a little vain I say: 'And I am their teacher.'")

I have heard Mr. Carnegie tell again and again the story of what led him to think of building libraries. To quote his words as he himself has written them elsewhere, he says: "It is, no doubt, possible that my own personal experience may have led me to value a free library beyond all other forms of beneficence. When I was a working boy in Pittsburgh, Colonel Anderson of Alleghany--a name that I can never speak without feelings of devotional gratitude--opened his little library of four hundred books to boys. Every Saturday afternoon he was in attendance at his house to exchange books. No one but he who has felt it can ever know the intense longing with which the arrival of Saturday was awaited, that a new book might be had. My brother and Mr. Phipps, who have been my principal business partners through life, shared with me Colonel Anderson's precious generosity, and it was when revelling in the treasures which he opened to us that I resolved, if ever wealth came to me that it should be used to establish free libraries, that other poor boys might receive opportunities similar to those for which we were indebted to that noble man."

Of course this ideal became immensely larger and more inclusive. One evening he told a little group of us the story of his boyhood in Scotland and referred--as he often did--to his father, who was a very remarkable man. He said that several of the weavers used to arrange to have one of their number read aloud to them while the others worked, they making up out of their earnings what the reader might have been earning at his loom. One of Mr. Carnegie's friends relates hearing the same story and says: "I have heard Mr. Carnegie mention as one of his earliest recollections those craftsmen, his father among the number, moving the first free library with which he was acquainted from one site to another in their aprons." There is no doubt that Mr. Carnegie often had in mind the picture of his father and those Dunfermline weavers seeking enlargement of life through books when he was considering the request that had come for a new library.

There was one other thought, however, that was always in Mr. Carnegie's mind, and I am not sure that it was not the chief one, and that was to furnish opportunity to the exceptional boy to work his way out into the larger world.

He once said to me as we were walking in Central Park and he had been telling me about a letter he had just received from someone, saying what a blessing one of his libraries had been to him: "When I was a boy I had ambitions and I would have given anything for certain books I could not get. I wanted to get out of the village into the great world of affairs, and books would have been the doors. One thing I have always had in mind in building libraries was that there might be in every town an open door through which the bright and ambitious boy could find his way out into the world. If you will examine the biographies of great men you will note how often the impulse to go to college and get out into the world came from a book. In Scotland the minister and the school teacher were always looking for the bright boy, especially in the smaller villages, and they would encourage him to go to college and lend him books. But he always needs books, and I want to make it possible for him to have them."

Another time he said: "I think I am doing a whole lot for the morality of the country through my libraries. You know that much of the immorality and mischief is because of the long idle hours the boys and girls, especially in the rural regions, find hanging on their hands. Now they have hundreds of good books to read and pleasant reading rooms where they can go after school or after working hours. One other thing I would like to do if I had money enough, and that would be to build a hall in every town where I have put a library--a hall with a fine organ in it, and endow it with a sum large enough to provide a good concert two or three times a week, and encourage every town to build up a good choral society to use the hall. There is nothing like music to elevate people."

Perhaps the most unique of all Mr. Carnegie's endowments was that of the Hero Fund. No one else in all the world would have thought of it. It grew out of his intense conviction that it took just as much heroism to save life as it did to take it, whereas the man who took it got most of the recognition. How often I have heard him say: "The more men you can kill the greater hero you are;" and again, "Most of the monuments in the world are to somebody who has killed a lot of his fellowmen."

In his deed of trust accompanying the endowment for the Hero Fund he said: "We live in an heroic age. Not seldom we are thrilled by deeds of heroism when men or women are injured or lose their lives in attempting to preserve or rescue their fellows; such the heroes of civilization. The heroes of barbarism maimed or killed theirs."

He was continually quoting the results of the vote which had been taken in the French schools as to who was France's great hero, where Napoleon, "who devoted his life to killing men, stood far down in the list, while Pasteur, who devoted his life to saving men, headed the list." He believed this marked the dawn of the new era, ushered in "the hero of civilization," to use a word he was often using.

The Fund was criticized quite widely and the criticisms made Mr. Carnegie very impatient, because they so entirely missed the point, as criticisms often do. The chief note in these criticisms--generally kindly and inclined to poke fun at Mr. Carnegie--was that he thought he could create a race of heroes by money. This tune was played up far and wide. As I said, it made him impatient because the whole point was missed. As a matter of fact this motive played no part in the gift. Mr. Carnegie was too wise a man to be misled by any such vagary. The world soon came around to see that he had evinced the same wisdom here that he had in all his other gifts. Three great things were in his mind in creating this large endowment: first, the freeing the dependents of the hero, who often loses his life, from financial worry; second, the recognition of the heroic act of peace as it is recognized in war, and giving the hero such opportunities for education as he might desire; thirdly, he thought that by placing this emphasis upon the heroism of peace he might turn men's minds to thinking upon the fact that peace offered as much opportunity for the play of the finest impulses as did war and that the young men of the future who wanted to do noble deeds would see that saving life gave scope for heroism even more than taking it.

Concerning the first of his motives he said in a letter to the Commission: "I do not expect to stimulate or create heroism by this fund, knowing well that heroic action is impulsive; but I do believe that if the hero is injured in his bold attempt to save his fellows, he and those dependent upon him should not suffer pecuniarily thereby." Again he said: "I have all along felt that the heroes and those dependent upon them should be freed from pecuniary cares resulting from their heroism."

As to the third motive, we used often to talk about it. He would say: "We have got to lift war up onto the moral plane. There is an instinct in man that seeks to wrestle with some foe. The heroic impulse demands expression. We have got to show young men that there are just as great battles to be fought in peace-time as in war-time and just as much heroism demanded, just as much opportunity for the hero. That grand poem Gilder sent me shows this. I always keep that and the idea of the Hero Fund together in my mind. No one could have summed it up better than he did there. I thought by creating this fund it would be one way of setting the world to thinking upon the heroism of civilization, getting its mind off the association of valor and heroism with war only."

He was very fond of keeping in touch with his "heroes". Several times when I have gone into his library before I could say anything he would insist on showing me the picture of his last hero, and the account in the papers of what he had done: "Look at that boy's face, now, isn't that a good face? Do you know what we are going to do with him? Put him in the Pittsburgh school (referring to the Technical Institute). We'll make something out of him. I'd like to see him. I'm writing him to write me once in a while. I like to keep track of them."

He was very proud of the medal. It is a beautiful thing, with Mr. Carnegie's picture on one side and on the reverse the map of North America, with the Coats of Arms of the United States, Canada, and New Foundland, and a tablet in the middle for the hero's name. Around it all is the inscription: "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."

I do not think any gift ever gave Mr. Carnegie more joy than that of the Palace of peace at The Hague. He was so deeply impressed with the work of the Hague Conference of 1899, whose results he considered the greatest step toward ending war that had yet been taken, that he intimated his desire to establish a great library of international law at The Hague for the use of the Permanent Court of Arbitration. After considerable correspondence and conversation with his friends, Dr. Andrew D. White and Frederick W. Holls, they made the suggestion that he enlarge the scope of his gift and build a great palace which should include not only the library, but rooms for the Court, assembly halls and international offices. Mr. Carnegie replied that if the suggestion should come from the Dutch government he would be glad to do this. The Palace was completed in 1913 and he was present at its dedication. He was as happy as a child as he roamed through its chambers finished in rare woods and polished marbles. A great crowd was present to take part in the dedication exercises, and the representative of the Dutch Government afterwards decorated Mr. Carnegie with the Grand Cross of the Order of Orange-Nassau. On the following day there were further exercises when the British Minister to the Netherlands unveiled a bust of King Edward, presented by the Peace Society of London, and Mr. Carnegie unveiled the bust of his friend Sir William Randal Cremer.

I quote a few words from his memorable address because in them he came back again to the dominant thought in all his thinking on international problems, namely, that peace could come only through the organization of the world for law and order along the same lines on which the community was organized and the nation. This meant a League of Nations: "My first duty today is to unveil the bust of one of the pioneers of the greatest of all causes the abolition of war, the killing of man by man, the greatest of all crimes. The hero we are about to honor by unveiling his statue in this, the World's Temple of Peace, as among the foremost of peacemakers, was destined, as we have seen, to strange contrasts from beginning to end. Nor are these contrasts apparently destined to end, even with death, for his statue stands here next to that of his late Majesty the King of Great Britain, a fellow worker for international peace. Both, monarch and subject, by their labors endeavored to leave the world better than they found it, and we believe they succeeded in doing so, and advanced the greatest of all causes, the brotherhood of man, through international peace. At last, the civilized world, after ages of sore trial, realized that our greatest of all blessings is world peace. No ruler of civilized man, from Emperor to Secretary of State, but recognizes this. If it is forced upon them--so far has mankind already advanced. Slowly has the truth been borne in upon men that nations were not intended to live or to labor separately, each for itself, but by interchange of their respective products. I submit that the only measure required today for the maintenance of world peace is an agreement between three or four of the leading civilized Powers (and as many more as desire to join--the more the better) pledged to cooperate against disturbers of world peace, should such arise, which would scarcely be possible, however, in face of the partnership agreement suggested."

The great war came just a year afterwards. A few shortsighted people poked fun at the Peace Palace. One night when I went into the library he showed me a clipping from some paper--I forget now what journal it was--written in rather flippant tone asking, "What shall we do with the Peace Palace?"

"I hope that man will live long enough to see a League of Nations sitting there with an International Court," he said.

I wish Mr. Carnegie might have lived a year longer, for as I write these words, July 1, 1920, a Commission appointed by the League of Nations is sitting in one of the rooms of the Peace Palace drawing up plans for a Court of Arbitral Justice.

One day I showed him a headline "Grass Growing High in the Deserted Grounds of the Peace Palace." It stirred him for a minute. "They'll all come there yet," he exclaimed as he turned to his desk.

"Have you got time to hear a little story?" I asked.

"What is it?" he said.

"Once upon a time," I went on, "there was a monastery in one of the hill towns of Italy, belonging to a famous order, and connected with it a Church, in which the red lantern burned night and day before the altar. The enemy came down from the North and sacked the place, overturning the stones and driving the monks from their habitation. But one monk had managed to hide himself somewhere among the ruins and at night crawled forth to see what had happened to the altar. To his joy he found the light which had been burning for years had not been extinguished. He filled it with oil. Every night he crept out of his hiding place and filled the lamp. After a time the enemy departed, the monks came back to rebuild their home and temple. When they came to rebuild the Church they found the light was burning. It had been burning all the days of catastrophe--waiting for them. Around it they built the Church."

"It's a beautiful story," he said, "and I see the point."

Of course he had much to say about the Church organs. When he began giving them to the Churches he not only received innumerable requests for organs--he received forty thousand during the last twenty years of his life--but he received scores of letters from Churches from all parts of the world asking for every conceivable thing. But he stuck pretty closely to his organs so far as Churches were concerned. He used to say that he could "feel responsible for what came from the organ: not for what came from the pulpit." All together he gave away nearly eight thousand organs. He was a very reverent man and he thought reverence a mark of real character. He believed music encouraged it and he took great pride in his eight thousand organs. He gave them to the Churches "because of my own experience," to quote his own words, "that the organ is one of the most elevating of voices, often causing me to murmur the words of Confucius as I listen to its peals: 'Music, sacred tongue of God, I hear thee calling and I come,' and also because of the consolation I experience under the influence of a maxim of the same seer: 'All worship being intended for the true God, howsoever addressed, reaches and is accepted by Him.'"

Enough about benevolences. The great endowments are known to all the world and their history has been written. I shall have something to say about The Church Peace Union later, because a new phase of Mr. Carnegie's character manifested itself then, in this last great gift of his life, namely, his interest in the Churches. Just a closing word here. One day he said in a joking way, "Don't you think I've shown wisdom in all my gifts?"

"In all but one," I answered.

"What do you mean," he said, turning upon me.

"I mean," I answered, "that in all but one of your gifts I think you have been the wisest man in the world, but I think the $300,000 you gave the Simplified Spelling Board was thrown away. Ten years from now the whole movement will be as dead as Volapuk or Esperanto; as dead as all artificial languages. Languages grow; they cannot be made to order. Furthermore, I think the simplified spelling perfectly hideous--but you know my views."

"I suppose you think you could have used that $300,000 to much better advantage?"

"Yes, I do," I answered.

"Well, you can't have it," was all he said.

I SHALL have something to say of Mr. Carnegie's attitude toward the churches in the concluding chapter, but the last great gift of his life, as well as the many things he said in connection with it, make perfectly evident the high esteem in which he held the churches and their leaders, as well as the strong conviction he had of their power to accomplish great things. As a matter of fact, I suppose he said to me a score of times that it was to the churches we must look for the bringing in of the reign of peace: "Who but the followers of the Prince of Peace should establish his Kingdom?" he said to the Trustees of the Church Peace Union, on the day he had them at his home to receive the trust fund.

For two or three years previous to 1910, Mr. Carnegie had been gradually coming to feel that he would like to do something on a big scale for international peace. The great question was how to do it in the wisest way. During this period he frequently talked about it with his intimate friends--President Nicholas Murray Butler, Professor Samuel T. Dutton, and Dr. Hamilton Holt. He also spoke about it to Mr. Edwin D. Mead, of Boston, once or twice. Later, when he had made up his mind to create an endowment, he consulted Senator Root. With me he talked about it frequently. The result of it all was that just before he started for Skibo Castle in the spring of 1910 he intimated to Professor Dutton, Mr. Holt and myself, when we were with him one afternoon, in his library, that he intended doing something soon. In the fall of 1910, after his return from Scotland, he told me that he was going to create a ten million dollar endowment for International Peace. He afterward told Mr. Holt that the exact form the gift should take came to him suddenly, like a revelation, on the golf links at Skibo.

That was the origin of the Endowment. I think that it was one afternoon in 1912 that I said to Mr. Carnegie: "It is too bad that the churches cannot have some funds for peace work. They could really do more than any other institutions in existence."

He immediately answered: "I agree with you. Of all other organizations they should be the most interested in this cause. Then, too, they have the people. They have audiences already made, and that is a great thing. They are there every Sunday. Why don't you get the Endowment to make a handsome annual appropriation to the churches?"

I told him that the Federal Council of the Churches had set up a strong Commission on Peace and Arbitration, and that they had made me Secretary of the Commission; that we had about sixty of the most prominent men of all denominations upon it, and that we were getting a very hearty response from the churches; that it only needed funds to do a very extensive work; that we had approached the Endowment and it had not seen its way to help us.

He was very much interested and asked me to tell him in detail what the Commission was doing. I did so, and he said: "I have been feeling more and more that it is to the churches we must look for the bringing of peace." A remark he more and more frequently made as the days went on.

This conversation led to many others about the mobilizing of the forces of the world for peace. We talked about a scheme for endowing the colleges of the United States, Great Britain, Germany and France--establishing chairs of the history of international relationships, the growth of arbitration, and kindred topics. We talked of ways and means whereby the children in the schools could be reached. Mostly we talked of the churches. Meantime, he had met in Berlin, J. Allen Baker, M. P., and Bishop Boyd Carpenter, of London, and they had told him of the remarkable work the churches of Europe were doing in creating a new international sentiment and in arranging friendly visits of pastors from one country to another. Mr. Carnegie was quite impressed by the story and Mr. Baker then laid before him the plans they had for future work in Europe. Mr. Carnegie said (I quote Mr. Baker): "It's just what they are planning in America. If the churches of the United States and Europe could get together on a big task like this, I believe I would be ready to give them ten million dollars."

The very next day after Mr. Carnegie's arrival in America, he asked me to sit down and write out in the most comprehensive manner, point by point, the ways in which a group of trustees, chosen from the churches, could use the income of an endowment for international peace. I gladly did this and carried it up to the house the next afternoon and read it to him. He asked me to leave it, but before I went away he picked it up and read it again, quietly, to himself. Suddenly he said: "Do you suppose you could get twenty-five of the biggest men of all the denominations--Roman Catholic as well as Protestant--to serve as trustees if I would give them a large sum of money?"

"I am sure I could," I answered, "and I think we could get the best."

I then offered to write for him a list of trustees I thought we could get, and he asked me to write it then and there, which I did. As I was writing, he interrupted to learn if I had Bishop Greer's name on the list. I told him I had, and he said at once: "He ought to be made President." (Mr. Carnegie had a great admiration for Bishop Greer, who had several times expressed himself very plainly to the effect that war was the negation of Christianity). When the list was finished, Mr. Carnegie examined it very carefully and then suggested four additional names of men he wished added, for reasons of personal friendship. Two of these names were eventually dropped and two leaders of the Jewish faith substituted to make the list as complete as possible. When we had finished the list, Mr. Carnegie turned to me and said: "I have about made up my mind; but I would like to consult Mr. Root first; meantime, you tell Bishop Greer and see how he feels about the whole thing."

It was about two weeks after this that J. Allen Baker arrived from London. I had seen Bishop Greer and had found him intensely interested, and incidentally had talked the matter over with two or three other leaders in the churches. Mr. Carnegie had, in the meantime, I think, discussed it with his own pastor, Dr. William P. Merrill, in whom he had great confidence. I went up to the house with Allen Baker soon after his arrival and he and Mr. Carnegie and I went together to Mr. Root's home, where we talked on the subject for an hour. The result was that that evening Mr. Carnegie and I made a final revision of the list of trustees, bringing the number up to twenty-nine, and he commissioned me to approach the men at once and ask them if they would serve as trustees for the proposed endowment. It was finally decided to start with two million dollars, which sum might be increased as the work expanded.

It was an interesting task. I saw everyone personally, I think, except Rabbi Hirsch, of Chicago, and Archbishop Glennon, of St. Louis. I had an interesting visit with Cardinal Gibbons, at Baltimore. He was very much interested in the whole scheme. It was a new idea to him. He accepted at once, and then we had a nice chat together. He was delightful and recurred several times to Mr. Carnegie giving this great sum for the use of the churches. As I came away, he said: "Tell Mr. Carnegie I am a great walker, and I would like to have a walking match with him some day." (They were both getting near the eighties). Everybody on the list accepted the trusteeship, and February tenth (this was in 1914) was set for the inception of The Church Peace Union.

Mr. Carnegie was very happy during the month that intervened between his decision and the making of the gift. I think he was as much pleased over the success in securing leaders from the different branches of the Church to serve on the same board as he was over the prospect of the service it might render to the cause of universal peace. He would ask me two or three times a week if there was any other board working solely among the churches on which Catholics, Protestants and Jews were serving together. I saw him very often during these days and he wanted to talk all the time about what task the churches should immediately undertake. He was not going to make any suggestions to the trustees; the money would be theirs and they were to do with it what they pleased; but he thought it would be a great thing if, as the first act, they should bring all the churches of Europe and America together in some European city and link up the European churches with the Movement. It would arrest the attention of the whole world and also be a great object lesson in Christian Unity.

On February tenth, 1914, Mr. Carnegie invited the trustees to a luncheon at his home--and all but three were there. Dr. Peter Ainslie came straight from the tour of England in behalf of Christian Unity, the steamer having docked just at lunch time. Mr. Carnegie thought this was a good augury. After luncheon, the whole group retired to the art gallery in the East end of the house, and Mr. Carnegie, having first seated Bishop Greer on one side of him and his pastor, Dr. Merrill, on the other, formally announced his purpose of presenting them with funds for the endowment the moment they should become organized. These were his opening words:

"Gentlemen of Many Religious Bodies, All Irrevocably Opposed to War and Devoted Advocates of Peace: We all feel, I believe, that the killing of man by man in battle is barbaric and negatives our claim to civilization. This crime we wish to banish from the earth; some progress has already been made in this direction, but recently men have shed more of their fellows' blood than for years previous. We need to be aroused to our duties and banish war.

"Certain that the strongest appeal that can be made is to members of the religious bodies, to you I hereby appeal, hoping that you will feel it to be not only your duty but your pleasure to undertake the administration of two millions of dollars five per cent bonds, the income to be used as in your judgment will most successfully appeal to the people in the cause of peace thru arbitration of international disputes; that as man in civilized lands is compelled by law to submit personal disputes to courts of law, so nations shall appeal to the Court at The Hague or to such tribunals as may be mutually agreed upon, and bow to the verdict rendered, thus insuring the reign of national peace through international law. When that day arrives, either thru such courts of law or thru other channels, this trust shall have fulfilled its mission."

After the trustees had expressed their gratitude for this remarkable gift, suitable resolutions were prepared expressing appreciation of Mr. Carnegie's high confidence in the churches as the chief instruments in banishing war from the earth, and of his confidence in them as stewards of this large sum. They then proceeded to organize themselves into the Church Peace Union. Bishop David H. Greer was elected President; Dr. William Pierson Merrill Vice-President; Dr. Charles E. Jefferson Chairman of the Executive Committee; Mr. George A. Plimpton Treasurer, and I was made Secretary. Mr. Carnegie was as happy as a child the whole afternoon. In fact, I do not think he ever took more delight in any of his gifts than in this child of his later years. After all the others had gone, he and I went into the library together and he put his arm about my neck and said: "Hasn't it been a great day! And what a splendid lot of men we've got there! They can do anything." Then, as he sank down upon the sofa, before the fire--a little tired--he said: "What a wonderful thing it would be if we could bring all the churches of the world together this year!" And this was just what we did.

We opened an office the next day and began preparations for the Conference at Constance, which was held during the first week of the following August and out of which grew the World Alliance for International Friendship through the Churches. It met on the same day that the world war broke out. On that day the churches started their campaign for justice, brotherhood and eternal peace; the war lords started their campaign for might, tyranny and eternal strife. For a while it looked as though the war lords had won the day. Now it looks as though the churches might win. I am writing these very words in a room in Geneva, where sixty men representing every great Communion in the world, except the Roman Catholic, are sitting with me, counselling how the united churches of the world can establish brotherhood, justice and goodwill. Two weeks from this writing the sixty representatives of the Churches that were at Constance will be sitting together at Interlaken, just over the mountains. But the age-long conflict is between Christ and Caesar and it is for the united churches of the world to see that Christ, not Caesar, triumphs.

SO much has been written in the papers about Mr. Carnegie's views on religion, and so much of it is mere rumor and gossip, and so many authors contradict what others have written, that it is really a pleasure to be able to say something on the subject from first hand knowledge.

I had a great many talks with Mr. Carnegie on religion and especially on the Churches, the Bible and the doctrines. Let me say, right at the beginning, that he was a very reverent man before the great and eternal things. There were some things which some people approach with reverence that to him seemed hardly worthy of it. The imprecatory Psalms made him mad, to speak very plainly, and he did not have much reverence for some Old Testament warriors who are held up as heroes before the children in the Sunday Schools. But before the real things of religion he was as reverent as a Catholic before the altar, and as for Christianity, was he not preaching its precepts in every speech he made? Few men have said more emphatically than he was continually saying that the only hope of the world was in the individual, society and the nations living by the teachings of Christ.

He held very decided views about the Old Testament, and once or twice, under provocation, expressed himself very bluntly. Dr. George Haven Putnam, in the second volume of his reminiscences, relates an incident that occurred on shipboard, which got into the press and went around the world. Of course it was misunderstood, and many of the religious papers wrote editorials which were stronger than the original statement. This was a good many years ago and would not arouse so much attention to-day as it did then. In fact, the point of view that Mr. Carnegie took toward the Bible has become very common in our day among the most eminent scholars in the churches. He did feel very strongly on the matter of teaching children certain portions of the Old Testament, which, to his mind, contradicted not only the finest human instincts but the whole spirit of Christ's teaching.

We were once walking together when he suddenly referred to a sensational heading in that day's paper about some preacher's utterances concerning the incident of Jonah: "What in the world has the question as to whether that book is fact or story got to do with the Christian religion?" he exclaimed. "It is this sort of thing that makes sensible people disgusted with the Churches. The first Christians followed Christ and that was all that was ever asked of them. Now we demand that they believe a lot of incidents said to have happened hundreds of years before Christ was born and which have absolutely no relation to him whatever, except that they happened to get bound up in a collection of books with the story of his life. It's just exactly as if I were told that I could not be a believer in Abraham Lincoln unless I believed some miraculous stories about the early settlers of America because the stories happened to be on the same library shelf. The Bible is a wonderful literature of a people who had a genius for religion, but I sometimes think it has been a misfortune that the life of Christ got bound up with the Old Testament. They don't always harmonize."

What disturbed Mr. Carnegie most of all was hinted at in that last sentence. He thought it was a great mistake to teach certain of the narratives of the Old Testament to children for the sake of the ethical lessons. The ethics of parts of the historical books not only did not harmonize with the teachings of the New Testament but they were contrary to them. He used to grow quite indignant on this point and I think the fact that the Sunday Schools were teaching these portions of the Bible somewhat colored his views of the entire Old Testament and perhaps made him unappreciative of its really spiritual revelations. Once he exclaimed to me, as we were discussing this whole question of the worth of the Old Testament (we were walking in Central Park): "I picked up the Bible just the other day and was reading the story of the times of Samuel. One king after another comes along and they are all engaged from year to year in killing--it is really slaughter. All sorts of ghastly incidents are related, and some passages are simply revolting to a mind accustomed to feel toward humanity as Christ felt, and the thing is that God is pictured as directing and helping it all. It is God who leads in the slaughter and He even inspires His children to the most unmerciful acts. Now, if you want to teach these things to students in the universities as you familiarize them with the legends and myths and wars of ancient Rome and Greece, all right, but do not teach them to boys and girls as heroic deeds, to be admired and copied, and, for heaven's sake, do not tell them that the God pictured in some parts of these stories is the God Jesus Christ shows us in the Sermon on the Mount."

I think I have recorded rather accurately what Mr. Carnegie said, for I was greatly interested in getting his point of view, and he said these things very emphatically. Professor Samuel T. Dutton, who used often to drop into the house at Ninety-first Street Sunday afternoons, for a chat with him, told me that he once said practically these same words to him. When I told Mr. Carnegie that he would find the view which he was expressing even more forcibly put than he was putting it, in the pulpits of many churches, he said: "I know that; but still they go on teaching it just the same, and I have heard passages from the Old Testament read in church which made me blush, so contrary were they to the spirit of Christianity. I think General Armstrong and David Livingstone much better Christians than Joshua or Gideon, and I would teach their lives in the Sunday Schools. And there ought to be an edition of the Old Testament prepared for use in church and home, which would leave out those parts that are not Christian." As a matter of fact, Mr. Carnegie had a great admiration for those portions of the Bible which deal with pure religion, and was continually quoting it, and had carved upon the walls of his library, over the fireplace, one of its great words: "Let there be light!"

It is a great mistake to say, as I have heard some say, that Mr. Carnegie was never interested in the churches. He would not have given the thousands of organs to churches had he not been interested in them, neither would he have entrusted a great endowment to The Church Peace Union had he not had confidence in them. As a matter of fact, he was very greatly interested--and more and more so as he grew older--and was continually talking about them. He also had a good many intimate friends among the clergy, and liked to have them come to his home. He was continually telling me how much he admired Bishop Greer and his own pastor, Dr. William Pierson Merrill, and occasionally he would tell me about a sermon Dr. Merrill had preached which had greatly interested him and would send it to me, asking me to print it.

Two things, more than anything else, had operated to keep him from close relations to the Church and more active participation in church affairs. The first was the revolt against certain doctrines with which he had come in contact as a youth. Here his father had preceded him, for he told me several times about his father's rebellion against the doctrine of eternal punishment and others which he considered inhuman. "Human" was Mr. Carnegie's own test of doctrine, and he was frequently using the word "inhuman" or "unhuman" to describe some of the doctrines. "There are some things being preached about God which, if true about any man, would make him a harsh and cruel despot," he would say. Or, "The Theologians attribute attributes to God they would be ashamed to possess themselves. They say Christ is the revelation of God, or that he is God himself, and then they preach a God that absolutely contradicts Christ and who does just the things Christ taught men not to do." As to the doctrine of eternal punishment, he revolted against it with all his generous instincts. "Anyone who has been a father cannot believe in it," he once said. As to some of the other doctrines, I do not imagine he ever gave much thought to them. He was of a very childlike nature and things which did not come to him intuitively he was rather apt to let alone. The doctrine of the Trinity, for instance, did not relate itself directly to his life and so he simply gave it no thought. He once said to me: "I have many Trinitarians and many Unitarians among my friends and I can't see any difference in their character or in their conduct."

He had a very firm belief in God and in His goodness. Indeed, his chief quarrel with orthodoxy, as I have said, was in its presentation of a God who was not good. He felt just as Whittier felt

"For nothing can be good in Him
 Which evil is in me."

He often referred to his trust in a Power at the centre of things, making for righteousness, and this Power was personal. Even the war could not shake his faith in the gradual progress of humanity toward goodness, although his faith was a bit shaken for the moment, as was the faith of all thoughtful men. He very firmly believed that the world was in the hands of God, and moving toward a destiny worthy of its Maker and Ruler. He believed that God was present in the consciousness of His children, and spoke to them in a voice they could not fail to hear and understand. I think that perhaps one reason he did not value the Bible so much as some of us do, was because his sense of the immanence of God was strong. One Sunday afternoon when the Rev. R. J. Campbell, then pastor of the City Temple, London, was in New York, I took him to call on Mr. Carnegie. The talk turned upon religion. Just as we were coming away, and as we were all standing about the tea table, Mr. Carnegie suddenly put his hand upon his heart, and in most emphatic tone, exclaimed: "I have something here, within me, which tells me without any uncertainty what is right and wrong. I call it God." "So do I," said Mr. Campbell. Mr. Carnegie took his hand and said: "We are not far apart." Mr. Carnegie had a good deal of the mystic in him. He had the Celtic temperament and felt religious things. His approach was by the way of intuition oftener than by reason. He was like a child who knows and loves but never reasons about it. Anyone who ever heard him repeat certain poems that he loved--and he loved the mystical ones--will recall the rapt expression that came over his face, the tears that welled up in his eyes.

The other thing which had kept him for many years somewhat aloof from the churches was sectarianism. As everybody knows, he felt very strongly here, and sometimes expressed himself in what seemed to some harsh language. He believed that the particular articles of faith and order which kept men apart counted for practically nothing in the religious life and were too insignificant to be retained as articles of separation in what should be the one Church. I think that he eyed a man who could believe that a particular mode of baptism was necessary for full participation in Christ's Church, as a sort of strange, inexplicable being. He simply could not understand a mind that worked that way. The mode of reasoning that led to such a conclusion was utterly incomprehensible to him. The same thing was true about the other doctrines that separated the churches. He could understand one man wanting bishops in a Church and another wanting the simplest form of Congregational polity, just as he could understand one man wanting a House of Lords and another wanting extreme democracy in the political realm, but he could not understand how the people who wanted the bishops could consider themselves the Church in any sense that the Congregationalists were not, or how they could refuse to worship or commune with them, or refuse to recognize their ministers as having been truly ordained, or refuse to participate in Christian worship with them. I do not think I overstate the matter when I say that sectarianism was to him both silliness and sin. He felt so strongly about it that he would do nothing for an institution where he thought his act or gift would perpetuate denominationalism. He would not give money to a college where there was a denominational test of any kind. He felt so strongly on this that sometimes it was difficult to convince him that denominational colleges seldom or never put any credal tests to the students and that the sense in which they were denominational was that the denomination had established them, was supporting them, and naturally was governing them and controlling them by boards chosen from its own denomination. I remember how, three or four times, I tried to emphasize the fact that when some denomination years ago planted a college in the heart of some frontier state, they did it not with any idea of establishing Methodism, Congregationalism, or Presbyterianism there, but because there was no educational opportunity of any kind in that territory and they wanted to give such opportunity to the boys and girls who lived there. I think he eventually came to feel that this was true in many cases, but he had seen so much of denominational rivalry and hated it so vigorously that it was difficult to make him believe that the desire to propagate the denomination was not a strong motive. There is no denying the fact that the churches did sometimes give him reason to suspect them in this regard. Once he told me that a representative of a certain denomination had asked him for a contribution toward their foreign missionary work. Then he added, with a real burst of enthusiasm: "If the Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Baptists, Methodists and all the rest of the denominations would form a joint board and put all their work in foreign lands under its control, I believe I'd give them ten million dollars." I think the sudden burst of enthusiasm came more from the picture of union which he saw in operation than from the good which might be done in India or China, but I really believe he would have done it. It was the fact that all the denominations agreed to work together in The Church Peace Union that made him enthusiastic over it. He was always greatly interested in the signs of increasing unity and followed them with some care. He used to tell his friends about the church at Briarcliff Manor, in which one of his friends was interested, where members of several denominations came together in one church, and, if my memory does not fail me, he wrote an article about it in one of the magazines. One reason he became more and more interested in the Church as he grew older was because of the co-operative spirit he saw growing among the denominations.

Mr. Carnegie frequently talked on immortality. He never, to be sure, made any dogmatic statements about it, one way or another, so far as I know. But he felt it, as he felt the presence of the Eternal Goodness. When he occasionally was talking upon religious themes he would talk of them from the point of view of one who believed in the survival of the soul after death. The doctrine of eternal punishment was to him so repugnant that he could not refer to it calmly. He believed it was a travesty upon God. He seemed to feel that death was a step into not only another world, but a better one. Some of us recall so well how, when he began his great address that night in the chapel of Tuskegee Institute, where we were celebrating the twenty-fifth anniversary of the institution--"With what pride and gratitude would those great men who put their lives into this institution look upon this scene could they see us to-night"--he suddenly stopped, pushed his glasses up on his brow and in a great hush said: "And who knows but they may be looking down upon us now!" It made a very great impression as I recall it after the lapse of ten or twelve years. One day two of his young friends found him in the little office which adjoined his library. As they went in they saw him with a package of old letters in his lap. He told them that they were letters from his father to his mother, and he read some lines from some of them. He suddenly looked up and said: "He was a brave man. I wish I could see him again." And then he looked at his two friends with a look of great tenderness on his face, and added: "Perhaps I shall." It is these little things that often betray a man's real faith more than his public and elaborate confessions of belief.

I suppose if anyone were to attempt to define Mr. Carnegie's thought about Christ he might arouse such a discussion as has gathered about Mr. Lincoln. One would say he had heard him say one thing; another would say he had heard him say the opposite. Personally, I doubt very much if Mr. Carnegie ever gave much thought to the question of the person of Christ, as the theologian or metaphysician would approach it. I do not remember ever having heard him speak of it. But he was continually saying, as I have said above, that the only hope of the world was in both individuals and nations living together under the teachings of Christ and in His spirit. I was walking with him one afternoon in Central Park when he said: "Did I tell you that--(mentioning a young girl who was very near and dear to him) is going to join the Church next Sunday? I am very glad. And do you know that the only test the pastor is asking of her is that she try to live in the spirit of Christ?" It was the Presbyterian Church which Mr. Carnegie attended that she was to join, and Mr. Carnegie had a great admiration for the pastor. He continued to talk about it, and I had not seen him more delighted in anything for a long time than in this incident. But those who heard his public addresses and speeches will remember how frequently he quoted the Golden Rule as the only law of life for men and nations. In one respect, Mr. Carnegie adopted the teachings of Jesus as his law of life more thoroughly than almost any man of wealth I have ever known. I refer to the principle of stewardship. It is a fundamental teaching of Jesus that whatever one possesses has been given him of God for use in human betterment. Mr. Carnegie believed this with all his heart, was always saying that he did not consider his wealth his own, and put into practice this faith that was so strong in him. His famous saying that it was a disgrace for a man to die rich was as sincere an utterance as ever came from human lips. There has just been published a large book giving a list of Mr. Carnegie's benevolences. In this book the deeds of gift are published with each gift, especially with the many great endowments. In these deeds of gift he is continually emphasizing this principle of stewardship, that what God had given him he considered a trust for humanity.

But nowhere did Mr. Carnegie manifest the central spirit of Christianity more than in his adoption of brotherhood as his creed and practice. He was always talking about it, always urging it upon young men, always referring to it in his many public addresses. Never shall I forget the time when at the great banquet of the First National Peace Congress, which I have described in a previous chapter, Baron d'Estournelles de Constant, for the French government, bestowed on Mr. Carnegie the cross of the Legion of Honor. It came as a great surprise to him and the thousand guests at the banquet. For a moment Mr. Carnegie could not say anything; then, with tears in his eyes, he said: "My friends, Baron d'Estournelles de Constant: This honor is as surprising as it is overwhelming. No one knows better than I that it is not deserved. No, it is not deserved for anything that I have done; but if a heart that keeps on enlarging as I grow older, embracing more and more of the world and the people of the world, if that merits the cross of the Legion of Honor, I believe that I do deserve it. For I do find with every successive year of my life that I take higher and higher views, that I think more and more of humanity, that I have brighter and brighter visions of the future." If that does not breathe the spirit of Christianity, what does?

It is also highly significant that the last great gift of Mr. Carnegie was an endowment for the use of the churches in promoting international brotherhood, and those of us who were present at his home on the afternoon when he conveyed these millions of dollars to the trustees--chosen from the churches--will never forget the high tribute he paid to the churches in his remarks, and how he said again and again that it was to the churches he looked for the ushering in of the reign of justice, brotherhood and eternal peace.