STORIES OF GRIT

CHAPTER I.

THE BLIND BOY WHO BECAME POET, PREACHER AND AUTHOR.

George Matheson was born in Glasgow, Scotland, on March 27th, 1842. When he was only eighteen months old his mother made the melancholy discovery that his eyesight was defective. He had inflammation at the back of the eyes. Several specialists were consulted, but little hope was held out to the boy's parents.

The failure of his eyesight was gradual. For several years he could see fairly well. During the greater part of his school-life he could read and write by using powerful eye-glasses and large type. He was permitted to sit near the window so that he might get the full benefit of the sunlight. In spite of the serious difficulties which faced him during those years, George Matheson took high standing in his class. He managed to learn French, German, Latin and Greek, and in some subjects he led his class.

He was ever hoping that his eyesight would improve. It was the custom of his family to spend most of their summer holidays at one of the seaside resorts on the Firth of Clyde, and George took great delight in watching the steamboats as they plied up and down the river. It was there that he spent many anxious hours testing his eyesight. He would stand on the pier and watch the boats in the distance. He would try to make out how many funnels each had, and as they drew nearer, what their names were. At times he thought that his eyes were improving; but at last he had to admit to himself that they were gradually getting worse.

For the greater part of his life he was largely dependent upon other people. His lessons at college were read to him, and, thanks to a marvellous memory, he learned with amazing thoroughness. He had a wonderfully cheerful disposition. To become blind when so young would have been sufficient to crush all brightness out of most lives, but not so with George Matheson. He rose above his terrible calamity, and showed himself a real hero.

When only eleven he was admitted to the Glasgow Academy. He took his place alongside other pupils, studied the same subjects, and sat for the same examinations. When it came to marking his exam. papers no favours whatever were granted to him, and yet his four years at the Academy were years of unbroken distinction. In his first year he gained the prize for history and religious knowledge. In his second year he gained prizes in Latin, history, geography and English composition. In his third and fourth years he won nearly all the special prizes, and finished with a wonderfully high record.

He matriculated for Glasgow University in 1857, when he was only fifteen. During his term there his eyesight became gradually worse, until by the time he was eighteen he was practically blind. When this terrible handicap is taken into consideration, George Matheson's record at the university stands as a wonderful example of perseverance and pluck. In all his classes he stood high, and especially shone in debates and oratorical contests. He received his B.A. degree in 1861, with "honourable distinction in philosophy," and his M.A. degree one year later. In 1862 he entered Divinity Hall to study for the ministry. For four years he gave himself to the most careful preparation for that calling, and in 1866, after nine years spent in Glasgow University, he was licensed to preach.

In January, 1867, George Matheson became the assistant minister at St. Bernard's parish in Glasgow. He preached regularly to large congregations, and prepared his sermons with much care. When he stood up to preach people forgot all about his blindness. He committed the whole service to memory; hymns, lessons, and sermons, and such was his splendid memory, that he never seemed at a loss for anything to say. After a year at St. Bernard's he was appointed minister of Innellan Church, where he remained for several years and preached and ministered to a very large congregation. Innellan, because of its beautiful situation and bracing air, had become a favourite summer resort, and to these attractions was added George Matheson's fame as a preacher. People came from far and near to hear him, and none ever went away disappointed.

What a picture it is to think of that blind man, standing there in his pulpit, instructing and comforting people who had perfect eyesight and seemed more favoured than he. Yet in all his sermons and in his conversation, there was cheerfulness and gratitude to God. No one ever heard him murmur or complain, and when he stood up and offered prayer, or read the Psalms in his clear, ringing voice, everyone realized that his whole heart was in the service. He became known as "Matheson of Innellan" and many people went there, summer after summer, in order to hear him preach.

In 1886 George Matheson was called to St. Bernard's Church, Edinburgh. In May of that year he began his work as minister to that congregation, and remained for thirteen years. It was a very large congregation. There were nearly fifteen hundred members, in addition to hundreds of others who were simply attendants.

Dr. Matheson resolved that he would not only preach to his people, but would visit them in their homes. His sister was deeply attached to him, and accompanied him wherever he went. Before he had been six months at Edinburgh he had visited six hundred families, besides calling upon the sick, the aged, the infirm and the dying. In addition to all this he was preparing sermons of rare quality and working in close sympathy with all the associations of his church. The visits he made upon his people were occasions long to be remembered. He was so warm-hearted and full of sympathy, that every person he met realized that it was no formal visit. Dr. Matheson kept up this method of visitation throughout his whole ministry. His church grew until there were nearly eighteen hundred members; yet he made a determined effort to keep in close touch with them all; and, blind though he was, he succeeded much better than most men would have done who had perfect vision.

Like Henry Fawcett, the blind Postmaster-General of England, Dr. Matheson had a marvellous memory. No doubt the loss of eyesight does much to quicken the faculty of memory. Often after he had preached, the vestry would be besieged with people who were anxious to speak with him. Many of these people had known him before, and it was a source of amazement to them to have the blind preacher call them by name almost immediately after hearing them speak. Sometimes visitors from a distance, whom he had not seen for many years, would say, "You'll not remember me, Doctor." Perhaps a puzzled look would cross his face; then he would say, "yes I do; you are Mackintosh, of ——" It would be Mackintosh right enough, and Mackintosh would be a very much surprised man.

In addition to his preaching and visiting, George Matheson was the author of many fine books. In 1882 he published a book of meditations with the title "My Aspirations". The success of this book was instantaneous, and in a very short time the entire edition was sold out, and several other editions followed. Later he published many other volumes, among them being: "Moments on the Mount", "Voices of the Spirit", "Searching in the Silence", "Times of Refreshing", "Leaves for Quiet Hours", and "Rests by the River". His books proved helpful to thousands of people. From every part of the world letters came from people whose lives had been greatly blessed by reading the works of the blind author. What was true of his preaching was also true of his writing. People felt, at once, the strong, cheerful, grateful heart of the author. Great numbers of people, around whose lives heavy clouds had gathered, had their hearts strengthened, and their faith in God renewed, as they read George Matheson's books.

In 1882 he wrote his famous hymn, now known the world over, "O Love, that will not let me go." It would be impossible to tell just what this hymn has meant to thousands of people. The hymn is now found in most hymnals and has become a great favourite. George Matheson gives the following account of how he came to write it; "The hymn was composed in the manse of Innellan on the evening of the sixth of June, 1882. I was at that time alone. It was the day of my sister's marriage, and the rest of the family were staying over night in Glasgow. Something had happened to me, which was known only to myself, and which caused me the most severe mental suffering. The hymn was the fruit of that suffering. It was the quickest bit of work I ever did in my life. I had the impression of having it dictated to me by some inward voice rather than of working it out myself. I am quite sure that the whole work was completed in five minutes, and equally sure that it never received at my hands any retouching or correction."

George Matheson lived to be sixty-four years of age and managed to fill every hour with useful and loving service. To read an account of one day's work in the life of this blind man is sufficient to make most people realize how hard he worked. He was methodical in his habits and careful to leave no duty undone. After breakfast each morning he attended to his correspondence, generally answering letters by return mail. Then he would have read to him the morning papers. He showed a keen interest in everything that was going on. From that he would pass on to his studies in French and German. This would be followed by some study in science, philosophy, history or theology. Then he would dictate to his secretary, something for the press or for his own use as a speaker. Added to such work, of course, there were his extensive labors as pastor and preacher, and it can be truthfully said that he did not fail in anything. Whatever task he put his hand to, he did with all his might.

George Matheson died at North Berwick, on August 28th, 1906, and was buried at Glasgow a few days later. Tributes of sympathy came to his relatives from all over the world. By his strong preaching, and probably still more by his brave, cheerful spirit as set forth in his books, he had helped a very great number of people everywhere. In his noble hymn he had written, "I trace the rainbow through the rain." That is exactly what he did. Where so many others saw only difficulties, he saw possibilities. And so it came to pass that, though he lived in darkness for nearly half a century, he served God and his fellow-men with a devotion which will never be forgotten.

CHAPTER II.

HOW A LAME BOY BECAME THE WORLD'S GREATEST POTTER.

In the summer of 1730 a little lad was born at Burslem in Staffordshire, England. There was no fear of the little fellow being lonely for he came into a family where there were already twelve boys and girls. Josiah Wedgewood, for that was the boy's name, was number thirteen. Was he unlucky? Well, in some ways he was, but in others he was not. His mother had her hands full with so large a family, but she taught Josiah to read and write and then sent him to a dame's school. Later he was sent to a school in Newcastle-under-Lyme. This school was three and a half miles from where he lived, but the little fellow was keen to get an education and cheerfully trudged the seven miles to and from school each day. He was a lively boy, fond of all kinds of sports and a general favourite at school. He showed a remarkable faculty for making paper designs. With pen and scissors he cut out designs of an army in combat, a fleet of ships at sea, a house and gardens, and many other interesting things. This gift of Josiah's gave great pleasure to his little friends, but the schoolmaster took a very different view and rather severely admonished the budding designer. Josiah was also fond of collecting fossils, shells and beautiful things which he found around the country lanes. He was constantly bringing these things home, and at last he fitted up a disused workshop of his father's and it served the purpose of a miniature museum.

When Josiah was nine years of age his father died. It was a great blow to the family, for while the father had never been more than an ordinary workingman, he had kept his family in fairly good circumstances. Josiah was taken from school at once and sent to help in the factory, where his eldest brother, Thomas, was in charge. For several generations the Wedgewoods had been potters and the whole countryside was famous as the chief centre of the industry in England. It was a proud day for Josiah when first he began to work at the trade in which he was destined to become so great. He was too young to understand what a serious handicap it is to be sent out into the world with little education, and besides, in those days, comparatively few received a thorough training in school. Several of his brothers and sisters never learned to read or write, and after they became men and women, they had to sign their names with a mark, for they had never learned to write even their own names.

When he was eleven a serious misfortune befell Josiah; one which darkened his whole life. The terrible scourge of small-pox swept over England, as it did over all European countries from time to time, and he suffered a severe attack. In those days medical skill had not developed very much, and the doctors were quite unequal to the task of dealing with the dreadful disease. Besides that, the utter lack of sanitation, and the conditions under which most of the people lived, were such that it seemed as though plagues must just run their course. Severe cases of small-pox were almost regarded as hopeless, and recovery was very rare. For a time it seemed as though Josiah could not live, but at last he rallied. His right knee, however, was seriously affected, and for the remainder of his life he was a cripple.

When only fourteen years of age Josiah was formally apprenticed to his brother. He had, like other apprentices, to sign an agreement that he would not gamble, frequent taverns, or indulge in any of the prevailing vices. Many boys, of course, signed such agreements without really intending to live up to their vows, but Josiah lived up to his pledge. Throughout the years of his apprenticeship he devoted himself with amazing concentration to his trade. There was a great deal of drunkenness and gambling and other vices at that time, but Josiah's record was beyond reproach. He loved his work and gave himself fully to it. Everything connected with the potter's trade he found interesting. He did not know what dull moments were.

Josiah soon showed a desire to do things in his own way. He was constantly striving after new effects and attempting new designs. Many of those working with him marvelled at his wonderful skill, but his brother Thomas did not like it. Thomas was making a fair living by doing the same old things in the same old way and he did not want any changes introduced. It seemed to him that Josiah was simply wasting his time with his new-fangled ideas. When Josiah had served his apprenticeship he offered to go into partnership with Thomas, but the elder brother was not willing, so Josiah had to look elsewhere for work.

For a while he became associated with other men and he was at liberty to make his experiments to his heart's content. But soon Josiah discovered that his associates were simply taking advantage of his good nature and profiting by his skill. In 1759, when he was twenty-nine years of age, he started in business for himself. His beginning was in a very humble way, for he had very little money; but he rejoiced in being his own master, and resolved to work away at carrying out some of the ideas he had cherished for so long.

About this time he suffered very great pain from his injured leg. At times he had to work away with his leg resting on a stool in front of him. On one occasion he injured his leg and was laid up in bed for several months. During this period he did a good deal of reading and tried to make up for his lack of early training. He also had time to think out many new plans for his work, and he solemnly resolved to become the greatest potter of his time. His mother had died some years previously and his outlook in some ways was not very bright. He wrote in his diary: "I have my trade, a lame leg, the marks of small-pox, and I never was good-looking anyway."

When he was able to get about again he resumed his work with more enthusiasm than ever. Instead of doing as his brother Thomas and other potters were doing—simply making plain butter-crocks, brown jugs and such like, he spent a great deal of time experimenting in glazes, in a semi-transparent green color which he had made for himself. Soon his wonderfully artistic designs began to attract attention, and his reputation extended throughout England.

Up till this time practically all the really beautiful pottery in England had been imported from other countries. Because of the great distance and of the difficulties of transportation, this pottery was very expensive. An aristocratic Burnham family, who possessed some very fine rare specimens, had the misfortune to have their largest plate broken. They sought the assistance of all the leading potters to help them get a duplicate, but failed. Then they were directed to Josiah Wedgewood. He succeeded where others had failed and to the amazement of all he produced a perfect facsimile of the broken plate. The news of this achievement soon spread and he received orders for more work than he could carry out.

Some years before this, Josiah had seen Sarah Wedgewood and had become deeply attached to her. Sarah's father and his own were cousins, but whereas his father had been a humble workman, Richard Wedgewood was considered a wealthy man. By dint of hard work Josiah saved a hundred pounds, which in those days was considered quite a sum of money. He wrote to Sarah and told her of his success, and she wrote back and congratulated him, telling him how proud they were of his achievements in artistic pottery. Josiah was greatly encouraged by this letter, and on the strength of it he visited her home and asked her hand in marriage. Sarah seems to have been quite willing, but her father was very angry. He had taken a friendly interest in his distant relative, and was glad to know of the wonderful things he was doing in artistic pottery, but after all Josiah was still poor, lame, and disfigured by small-pox. He had no intention of allowing his daughter to marry such a man. He had some one else in view whom he considered would be a much better match.

It was a very painful experience for the lame man, but its bitterness was offset by one thing: Sarah herself hastened to make it clear to Josiah that she loved him and did not want to marry any one else. Encouraged by this he resolved to work harder than ever. He wrote to Sarah telling her that he would yet be the best potter that England had ever seen.

This was no idle boast. Orders for his work came so fast that he had to extend his workshop from time to time and take on more workmen. He had often noticed how untidy and slovenly the men were in the various workshops and he determined to have things done differently in his factory. Some of the men keenly resented his particular ways, but he reasoned with them, and showed them the wisdom of his methods. Soon the workmen caught the enthusiasm of their master and fell heartily in with his plans.

He determined that not one bit of poor pottery should leave his workshop. Sometimes he would look very carefully at some piece, then say, "It is good—but not good enough for Josiah Wedgewood." Then it would be destroyed. Day after day he sat with his workmen, going from one to another, rendering assistance and seeking to give to each one a very high ideal for work. He had to face great difficulties. Many of the tools in use were of no service whatever in his porcelain ware. He had often to greatly improve the tools, and in many cases invent new ones altogether. But he was not easily daunted, and his marvellous perseverance overcame all difficulties.

He was married to Sarah Wedgewood in 1764, when he was thirty-four years of age and she was twenty-nine. For many years she had been a great inspiration to him in his work and she continued to be throughout his life.

Four years after this his leg, which had seldom allowed him to have one day without pain for twenty-two years, became worse. After consultation with several doctors it was decided to have the limb amputated. There were no anæsthetics in those days by which the patient in such a severe operation could be made unconscious, and so without anything to alleviate the pain he suffered the operation. He did not shrink but bore the pain with magnificent courage. It was not his way to complain. During the twenty-two years of suffering he had very seldom said a word about his agony.

By this time Josiah Wedgewood was known throughout England and in many lands far beyond. There was great interest taken when his leg was amputated and many of the leading people of England, including the King and Queen, were greatly relieved when it was known that the operation had been a success. When he regained his strength he soon returned to the work he loved so much and sought to make his products more perfect.

Probably there has never been a more skilled potter than Josiah Wedgewood. There have been other skilful men, but they have almost always copied one from another. He followed out his own ideas. When a boy, walking several miles to and from school each day over the wide moorland, he had noticed the exquisite tints of the wild flowers. When he became a potter he copied out those same flowers in his marvellous designs. He did not copy the works of other men; he followed as his ideal the things which God had made. He was by far the most original potter that the world has ever seen. His business became one of the great industries of England and he and Sarah built an ideal village called Etruria, where they lived with their daughter Susannah, who became the mother of the famous scientist, Charles Darwin.

And so it was that the crippled boy, who left school at nine, and for long years was hardly ever a day without violent pain, became the greatest potter the world has ever known.

CHAPTER III.

THE DUTCH BOY WHO BECAME A GREAT EDITOR.

When the ocean liner, The Queen, docked at New York on September 20, 1870, she discharged among her passengers a Dutch family named Bok. Mr. Bok, the father, had once been in fairly good circumstances, but unwise investments had left him quite poor, so he and his wife decided to leave Holland, and with their two boys, William and Edward, start over again in the United States.

The younger boy, Edward, was not quite seven years of age. Within a few days of landing he and his brother were sent to a public school in Brooklyn. It seemed a hard beginning, for neither of the boys knew one word of English. They did not know what the other boys were talking about, nor could they make themselves understood. In their helplessness they did not have the sympathy of each other's company for they were graded according to age, and so were parted during school hours. As soon as school was dismissed the boys were each the centre of a group of tormentors, who seemed to enjoy teasing the little fellows who could neither speak, nor understand, a word of English. Edward was nick-named "Dutchy" and there was scarcely any form of cruelty which the other boys did not inflict upon him.

One day Edward was goaded into fury and turned on the ringleader among his tormentors. Much to the surprise of the big bully, and to the boys, Edward gave him a sound thrashing, and from that day on, he had the respect, at least, of his schoolmates. He learned the language quickly, and although he spoke with a Dutch accent, he adapted himself to the ways of the new country and gained confidence.

Edward's father did not find it easy to make good. He was between forty and fifty years of age and everything was new and strange. He could not find work for quite a long time and the strain began to tell upon his wife's health. Edward and his brother were quick to see how the heavy burdens were weighing upon their mother, so they decided to relieve her by rising early in the mornings; building the fire, preparing the breakfast, and washing the dishes, before they went to school. After school they gave up their play and swept and scrubbed, and helped their mother to prepare the evening meal, and wash the dishes afterwards.

One morning the boys woke up to find that there was no kindling wood or coal wherewith to build the fire, so they decided to go out each evening to gather coal which had been carelessly spilled when coal was being delivered. A good deal of wood was also lying about the streets which they were glad to get. The mother remonstrated with the boys, but Edward said: "It is all right, Mother; this is America, where one can do anything if it is honest. So long as we don't steal why shouldn't we get it?"

Money was badly needed in that home and Edward looked around to see if he could not earn something. One day he was standing looking longingly into the window of a baker's shop. The baker had just put a tray of tempting buns, tarts, and pies, in the window and he came out to look at them.

"They look pretty good, don't they?" he said, noticing the wistful look on Edward's face.

"They look all right," answered the little Dutch boy, "but they would look a whole lot better if you had your window cleaned."

"That is true," said the baker, "perhaps you will clean it."

So Edward got his first job. He cleaned that window every Tuesday and Friday afternoon, for which he received fifty cents a week. One day the baker was busy and Edward waited on a customer. When the baker saw how aptly he did it, he suggested that Edward help him on certain days after school and on Saturday afternoons. The salary was to be one dollar and fifty cents a week. Edward eagerly consented and hurried home to tell his parents about his rare good fortune. On Saturday mornings he took a delivery route for a newspaper, for which he received one dollar; thus he brought his weekly earnings up to two-fifty.

One evening Edward was invited to a party in Brooklyn. The thought occurred to him that the hostess would probably like to see an account of the party in the newspaper, so he wrote an account of it, giving the name of every boy and girl present, and sent it to the Brooklyn Eagle. The editor of the newspaper was so pleased with the idea that he offered to give Edward three dollars a column for such news. From that time Edward sought eagerly to find out where parties were being held in order to keep the editor supplied with news and to earn some much-needed money. It pleased people who had attended parties to see their names in print, and, of course, it increased the circulation of the paper. Edward was not yet thirteen, but he was attending school, working in a bake-shop after hours, serving a paper route on Saturday mornings, and acting as reporter for a newspaper.

One evening Edward learned that an office boy was wanted in the office of the Western Union Telegraph Company. The salary was six dollars and twenty-five cents a week. Edward secured the position, and so, at the early age of thirteen, he left school to make his way in the world. His mother was keenly disappointed at his having to leave school so early, but owing to the straitened circumstances of the home, she gave her consent.

Edward early developed habits of thrift. He never lost a chance of making five cents, and when he got it he did not spend it foolishly. He never used a street-car if he could walk. Thus, he was able to buy books to improve his education, and to make up for the serious handicap of having left school so early in life.

About this time he began to collect autographs. He wrote to President Garfield, Lord Tennyson, Whittier, General Sherman, Geo. W. Childs, and a great many other notables, and secured their autographs, and in several instances received friendly little letters. One day a newspaper reporter saw these letters and within a few days a long article appeared in the New York Tribune, giving a full account of the little Dutch boy who had secured such a remarkable collection of autographs and letters. Editors of several leading newspapers and magazines wrote to Edward and encouraged him to get into personal touch with as many distinguished people as he could, and to write brief accounts of his experiences. Thus encouraged, Edward sought and obtained interviews with President Garfield, General Grant, General Sherman, President Hayes, Mrs. Abraham Lincoln, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Longfellow, Phillips Brooks, Emerson, and many others. In every case the boy's eagerness to learn, and courteous conduct made a favourable impression and he was received with uniform kindness.

When Edward was eighteen his father died and the small amount of insurance he left barely covered the funeral expenses. Hence the two boys faced the problem of supporting their mother on their meagre income. The boys there and then determined to make their mother comfortable.

At this time he was a member of Plymouth Church, Brooklyn, where the great Henry Ward Beecher was pastor. The Young People's Society of the Church decided to publish a magazine and Edward was asked to become editor. He made a decided success of this task and before long a good deal of attention was directed to the magazine. Edward published sermons by Dr. Beecher, Dr. Talmage and others, and besides he got a number of prominent people to write for it. Readers were amazed when they opened its pages to find articles signed by the greatest people in the country. At first, the circulation of this little publication, which was named The Brooklyn Magazine, was small, and Edward and another boy wrapped up all the copies themselves and took them to the post office. As the circulation increased the bundles were too heavy to be carried, and a baker's cart had to be used. Before long a double-horse truck was necessary, and three trips had to be made. All this time Edward was working for the Western Union Telegraph Company in the day time and doing his editorial work in the evenings. In 1882—when, he was nineteen—he gave up his position and devoted his whole time to editing and publishing the magazine, which was now known as The American Magazine, and had become an important publication.

In 1884, before Edward had reached his twenty-first birthday, he was offered a position with the well-known book publishers, Charles Scribner and Sons, which he accepted. The salary was eighteen dollars a week, which in those days was considered a good salary for one so young. He astonished every one by his energy and enterprise. There wasn't a lazy bone in his body. He had an ever-willingness to work which made his success a certainty. When he got out into the world he was astonished to find how many of his young, friends believed that the only way to get on was through favouritism. That was not his experience. He found that if a young man were willing to work, and to do his very best, the way to success was wide, and it was not overpeopled. He was amazed to find how many young men there were who were not doing their best, or anything like it. They were constantly watching the clock, and afraid lest they should work one minute more than they were being paid for. When luncheon time came, Edward listened to the conversation around him and he was surprised to note that scarcely any youth ever gave a thought to anything except wages and outside interests.

Edward's idea of work was different. He resolved to do his very best and to do it every hour of the day. He did all that was expected of him and a little more. When others played, he worked, convinced that his play-time would come later. He met with many difficulties, but he overcame them with a smile. He liked fun and play just as much as any other fellow, but he felt that he ought not to take his employers' time for these things, and he felt that owing to the circumstances in his own home, it was up to him to make good.

In 1889, while he was still a young man—twenty-six years of age—he accepted the position of editor of the Ladies' Home Journal and moved to Philadelphia. When he took over this magazine it had a circulation of over 400,000, and so was already very well known. Under his able editorship it became one of the most influential magazines in America—and for that matter in the world. Edward Bok remained as editor for thirty years, and, under his direction, and largely owing to his great skill and hard work, the circulation grew until, when he resigned in 1919, the circulation was over two million.

Edward Bok was sitting one evening chatting with Theodore Roosevelt, who was at that time President of the United States. The President said, "Bok, I envy you your power with the public."

Edward Bok replied, "That is a strange remark from a President of the United States."

"You may think so," Roosevelt said, "but what you write is read by thousands when their day's work is over, and the mind is at rest. You have it on me: I envy you your power with the public." This illustrates, at least, what a tremendous influence the little Dutch boy had become in the nation, and in the world.

As editor of the Ladies' Home Journal, Edward Bok did a great many things which helped to make him one of the most prominent and useful citizens of the United States. He gave prizes to those who succeeded in securing new subscribers. Remembering his own lack of opportunity to secure an education, he hit upon the simple plan of giving free scholarships as premiums to the most successful canvassers. This plan grew so that nearly all the leading colleges were included, and by 1919 no less than one thousand four hundred and fifty-three free scholarships had been awarded. By this plan it was made possible for many to obtain an education who later filled conspicuous places in the business and professional world.

Edward Bok was twice asked to become American Ambassador to Holland, the land of his birth. It would certainly have seemed a wonderful thing if he could have returned in such a high position to the land he left as a poor boy, but he did not see his way clear to accept the post. He enjoyed the confidence and close friendship of such men as President Cleveland and President Roosevelt. In fact there was hardly an outstanding man in the United States with whom Edward Bok did not come into contact.

In 1918, he was invited by the British Government to join a party of thirteen American editors who were to visit Great Britain and France. On this trip he met many of the most distinguished military men and statesmen of the Allied nations. His visit to the battlefields made a great impression upon him and he was deeply moved at the courage of the Allied soldiers.

Edward Bok resigned from the editorship of the Ladies' Home Journal in 1919. He has since turned his attention to many things, for which his previously busy life left little room. He has been the recipient of many degrees from the great American Universities, and today, he who came to America's shores unable to speak one word of English, is recognized as a citizen of whom America may well be proud.

CHAPTER IV.

A DEAF BOY WHO BECAME A GREAT BIBLE SCHOLAR.

John Kitto was born at Plymouth, in the south of England, on December 4, 1804. His father, who was by trade a stone-mason, was a man of intemperate habits, and as a result there was constant poverty in the Kitto home. John never went to school for more than a few days in his life. At ten years of age he began to help his father and often had to stagger along under very heavy loads, or climb ladders carrying slates for the roof. For two years the boy did almost a man's work, and then, one day as he was ascending a ladder carrying a heavy load of slates, he missed his footing and fell a distance of thirty-five feet. A group of terrified workmen gathered around him and he was carried, limp and bleeding, to his humble home.

For two weeks he seemed more dead than alive. Then one day he awoke and tried to get up. He did not understand his inability to rise. When his mother came he asked for a book which, in spite of his lack of schooling, he had learned to read. His mother answered his inquiry by writing upon a slate. Then it was that the sad truth slowly dawned upon John Kitto that, as a result of his terrible accident, his sense of hearing had been totally destroyed. Several remedies were tried, but they were of no avail. The injury to the nerve of the ear was such that he could not hear any one speak, in fact he could not hear even the loudest music. Thus John Kitto, not yet thirteen years of age, found himself shut up into a world of his own in which his chief companions were books.

He was unable to help his father any longer and tried to make a little money by painting signs, such as, "Lodgings to Let". This, however, did not prove to be much of a source of income, and so his parents sent him to Plymouth workhouse, where he was taught the trade of shoemaking. When fifteen years of age he was apprenticed to a man named Bowden. This man treated the deaf boy with much cruelty. John was compelled to work hard from six o'clock in the morning until ten o'clock at night, thus working for sixteen hours each day. Even then the boy's great love for reading showed itself, for weary though he was, he spent some of the time allowed him for sleep, in poring over books. At length the cruelty of his employer became more than he could bear, so he complained to the authorities. He was released from his contract and taken back to the workhouse. There he remained for another four years, reading very eagerly the few books which were obtainable. The poor boy was practically denied companionship with other young people, not only because he was deaf, but also because, not being able to hear other people speak, he largely lost the art of speech himself. This difficulty increased as the years went by, until people who were strangers could only make out what he said with great difficulty.

His studious habits soon began to attract attention. He wrote some articles to the Plymouth Journal which were read with much interest. A public subscription was taken up for him in the town and he was sent to a school, that he might learn to become a printer for a missionary society.

Just about this time he came into contact with a Mr. Groves, a dentist of Exeter, who was greatly attracted to the deaf boy. He was engaged as a tutor of Mr. Groves' sons; and also several other pupils were secured for him. By this time he had become much interested in learning languages, and had mastered several, including Hebrew. Then something happened which changed everything for John Kitto. He was taken by Mr. Groves on a trip abroad, which included long sojourns in Russia, Persia, the Caucasian Provinces, and other places in the East. Four years were spent abroad, and they were great years for John Kitto. Probably the extent of his misfortune had sharpened his other faculties; at all events his observation was unusually keen and nothing escaped him. He returned to England in 1833 and wrote a series of very interesting articles for the Penny Magazine, signed, "The Deaf Traveller". His sojourn abroad had given him an insight into Eastern life and customs. On his return to England he decided to publish some books which would make the life of Palestine more vivid and thus increase interest in the Bible. Accordingly he published "The Pictorial Bible", in three large volumes. At that time very few books had been written with such a purpose and they were eagerly read by Bible students. Several years later—in 1845—he published his greatest work, and one which has entitled him to a foremost place among Bible commentators: "The Cyclopædia of Biblical Literature". This extensive work reveals an amazing amount of painstaking research. For a great many years it was regarded as indispensable for those who wished to closely study the Scriptures. While it is not nearly so well known now it is certain that most of the valuable material it contains has been made use of by later writers who have worked along similar lines. In addition to the foregoing books John Kitto wrote a large number of others, and also many magazine articles. Gradually his reputation spread and he became recognized as one of the great Bible scholars of his day.

He was a man of very regular habits and almost every waking moment was spent at his work of reading and writing. He rose as early as four o'clock in the morning, did a little gardening, then worked in his study nearly all day long. Several people visited him and tried to carry on some kind of a conversation, but seldom with much success. At first the method of talking by finger signs was tried, but few could understand it. Later he tried to hold some kind of intercourse by writing everything down; but this was so painfully slow that it was given up. Thus it came about that even those who wanted to help him, realized that their visits were a strain upon him and that he seemed happier when left alone.

There was one family, however, where there were several children, all of whom loved him very much. Each one of them learned to use finger signs and were never so proud as when they would carry on some sort of conversation with the great scholar. He was deeply touched by the friendship of these children, and although he could not hear them as they practised on the piano, he could feel the vibration by placing his fingers on the soundingboard and in that way marked their progress in music.

John Kitto married and had children of his own, whom he loved dearly, although he never heard them speak. In spite of the great value of his books his income was never very large at any time. In 1850 he was granted a civic pension of five hundred pounds a year. In those days that was considered a good income and no doubt it did much to lift the burden of anxiety from his mind. There certainly was no mistaking the high regard which was felt for him everywhere. Although a layman he was granted the degree of Doctor of Divinity by the University of Giessen in 1845. He was also made a Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries the same year.

In 1851 his health began to fail and some time later he went to Germany to try the mineral waters there. He did not obtain the desired benefit, however, and he died at Cannstadt in 1854, having reached the age of fifty. His passing was greatly mourned in England, for the boy from Plymouth workhouse, living for nearly forty years under a terrible handicap, had found a place of very great usefulness in the world.

CHAPTER V.

THE SLAVE BOY WHO BECAME A GREAT LEADER.

Some time about the year 1858 or 1859 a negro child was born in a log cabin in Virginia, U.S.A. The parents of the child were slaves, and utterly without education. When the child grew to be a man he could never find out the exact date, or even the year of his birth. The first things he remembered were the scenes around the squalid, little log cabin, where his earliest years were spent. The cabin itself was sixteen feet by fourteen. It not only had to serve as the sole home for the family, but was used as the kitchen for the plantation. There were no windows in it, only openings in the side which let in the light. The same openings, of course, let in the chilly air in winter. A broken-down door hung on uncertain hinges. In one corner of the miserable cabin there was a "cat hole"—a hole about seven or eight inches square—to enable the family cat to pass in or out. As there were half a dozen other holes in the cabin walls, this contrivance seemed unnecessary. There was no wooden floor to the cabin, the bare earth being considered all that was necessary. In the centre of the floor there was a large, deep hole which was used to store sweet potatoes during the winter. There was no stove in the cabin, all the cooking being done over an open fireplace.

The little negro boy—whose name was Booker Taliaferro Washington—never knew what it was to sleep in a bed. With his brother, John, and his sister, Amanda, he slept on a bundle of filthy rags on the dirty floor. The poor mother, who acted as cook to the slaves on the plantation, had little or no time to give to the training of her children, so they just grew up, and early learned to do hard work.

The family never sat down around the table together for a meal, nor was God's blessing ever asked upon the food. Like most other slaves at that time, they hardly ate like civilized beings. The children got their meals very much like dumb animals. It was a piece of bread here, and a scrap of meat there, and perhaps a potato in another place. Sometimes one member of the family would eat out of a pot, or skillet, while another would be eating from a tin plate on his knees, often using nothing but the hands to hold the food. One day, when young Booker was over at the slave-owner's house, he saw two of the young ladies eating gingerbread. It seemed to him, at that time, that the most tempting thing in the world was a piece of gingerbread, and he made a solemn vow that if ever he could afford to buy some gingerbread he would do so.

Young Booker had little time for play, in fact he hardly understood what the word meant. He cleaned the yard, carried water to the slaves in the field, and once a week took corn to the mill. This last job was heartbreaking. A heavy bag of corn would be thrown over the back of a horse, but as the horse jogged along the uneven road, often the bag would fall off, and probably young Booker would fall with it. He was not strong enough to get it back upon the horse, and so he would have to wait, maybe for several hours, for a chance passer-by to help him. These hours of waiting would often bring bitter tears, for he knew he would be late in reaching home. It was a lonely, dark road, and he was much afraid, and besides, when he did get home, he generally received a severe flogging for being so late.

When Booker was about eight years of age the slaves were liberated, and he, with his mother and brother and sister, set out for West Virginia, where his stepfather worked in the salt mines. The family packed up their few belongings, and, with very little money, set out on the long and tedious journey of several hundred miles. The children walked most of the way, until their feet were sore and blistered. It took them several weeks to make the journey, and they slept, either in the open or in some abandoned cabin by the roadside.

Although he was only a child, Booker was put to work in the salt mines as soon as they reached Maiden, where his stepfather lived. There was no play for him, nothing but hard work. Sometimes he had to rise at four o'clock in the morning, and work until he was nearly dropping from sheer exhaustion.

Once when he was a little fellow, he had taken some books to the school house for his young mistress. He looked in and saw several dozen white boys and girls learning to read and write, and it seemed a wonderful thing to him. He thought that getting into school must be like getting into Paradise. Once he got settled in Maiden a great desire to learn to read came over him. In some way a copy of Webster's spelling book found its way to their cabin, and he eagerly began to learn the alphabet. At that time there was no single person of his race whom he knew, who could spell, and he was afraid to ask the white people. But in some way he learned what the letters stood for, and soon he began to spell out simple words. His mother was totally ignorant, but she encouraged him all she could.

About this time some kind of a school for coloured children was opened in the town, and a young negro who had learned to read was put in charge. Booker's stepfather, however, decided that he could not afford to lose the money that he was earning, and that he must continue to work in the salt mines. This was a most crushing blow to the negro boy who was so anxious to learn. However, he succeeded in persuading the teacher to give him lessons at night, and he worked hard, although he was often tired in body. After a while he was allowed to attend day school, on the understanding that he also did his work in the mines. So he worked in the mines from very early in the morning until nine o'clock, when school opened, and again he returned when school hours were over.

When he did get to school he found difficulties. All the other boys had "store" caps, of which they were very proud. Booker had none, nor had his mother any money wherewith to buy one, but she sewed two pieces of cloth together, which answered for a "cap". The other boys made great fun of his homemade cap, but he knew it was the best that his mother could do, so he tried to ignore their ridicule. Young Booker had heaps of trouble, and difficulties at every turn, but there never was a time in all those hard years when he did not have the determination to secure an education.

One day, while he was working in the mine, young Booker overheard two men talking about an advanced school for coloured boys at some distance away. In the darkness he crept closer, and he heard one of the men say that opportunities for work were provided, so that worthy pupils could pay part of their board, and at the same time be taught some trade. That was a turning point in his life. He determined there and then to get to that school. Once he had formed that resolution, the idea never left him day or night.

By means of very hard work he managed to save enough money to start him on the road to the school, which was known as Hampton Normal and Agricultural Institute. After many hardships and bitter experiences, he arrived there, but when he presented himself before the head teacher she hesitated about taking him in. He was tired after the long, weary journey, and his clothes were worn threadbare. He looked like a worthless tramp. After some hesitation the teacher gave him a broom, and told him to sweep a room.

Did he sweep that room clean? He never tackled anything with so much delight. He swept it, then dusted it four times. He rubbed every piece of furniture in that room until it shone. He felt that his future depended upon the way he cleaned that room. When he had finished the head teacher came and examined his work. She couldn't find a particle of dust anywhere. "I guess you will do to enter this institution," she said.

He spent three years at Hampton. They were hard years in many ways, for he had little money, and besides, he had to learn everything, almost from the beginning. But he was sheer grit, and things which would have discouraged others only made him more determined. He soon gained a grasp of his studies, and, by very hard grinding, worked his way to the front in his classes. After his course was completed he was made a teacher in the institution, and put in charge of a group of Indians, with whom he did remarkably well.

Then a great opportunity opened up for him. A normal school for coloured people was to be opened in Tuskegee, Alabama. A great many schools for coloured children had been opened since the abolition of slavery, but most of the teachers themselves were not educated, and this normal school was instituted for their benefit. Booker T. Washington was asked if he would take charge of it, and he gladly did so. He began his work in a disused shanty with about thirty pupils, practically all of whom had been trying to teach school.

Soon the shanty became too small for those who came, and Booker Washington saw a large, old disused plantation house, which he decided to purchase and use as a school. He succeeded in raising the necessary five hundred dollars, and soon the whole school moved into the larger premises.

Under his leadership the school grew by leaps and bounds. The coloured people were so thankful for the institution that they brought live cattle, as they could afford it, and these animals were used to maintain the institution, and as a means to train the negroes for farming. Very soon the school owned two hundred horses, colts, mules, oxen, calves, and over seven hundred pigs, sheep and goats. It became necessary to add to the buildings, and soon the work of Tuskegee Institute became known the whole world over. After a few years the school which Booker Washington began in an old shanty, had grown to be an institution with eleven hundred pupils and a staff of eighty-six officers and teachers.

Booker T. Washington—now known everywhere as Professor Washington—became one of the greatest orators in the United States. Often he made speeches before tremendous audiences, and always succeeded in raising the white man's idea of the coloured people. He became a close personal friend of Grover Cleveland, at that time President of the United States, and several times he was invited to the White House, to be guest of the President. Later, he visited England, and was welcomed by Queen Victoria, and many of the most distinguished people of Great Britain. He received the honourary degree of Master of Arts from Harvard University, and it is safe to say that the little negro boy, who began life under such great handicaps, became one of the most highly respected of the world's citizens.

CHAPTER VI.

THE IMMIGRANT LAD WHO BECAME A KING OF INDUSTRY.

In November, 1837—the year in which Queen Victoria ascended the throne—Andrew Carnegie was born in Dunfermline, Scotland. His father was a weaver, and before the invention of the steam loom, made a comfortable, if modest, living. Andrew's mother early impressed upon him that economy was a virtue, a lesson which he never forgot in later days. On one occasion Mrs. Carnegie asked her children to repeat a proverb from the Bible. When it came to Andrew's turn, he stood up and said, "Take care of the pence and the pounds will take care of themselves". While Andrew was mistaken in thinking this was in the Bible, it shows how deeply it had been fixed in his mind.

One day Andrew's father came home very dejected. "Andy," he said, "I have no more work." Up till that time all weaving had been done on hand looms, and the introduction of the steam looms threw hundreds of men out of work. Andrew never forgot how bitter and harsh his father's words sounded. "No more work!" That meant no more money, and poverty stared them in the face.

Andrew's father could not obtain work in the town. Hundreds of others, like himself, were thrown out of work. It was no use moving to another town for conditions were the same everywhere. After some anxious days of planning together, the family decided that the only thing to do was to follow the example of some relations and move to the United States.

The Carnegies sold their hand looms and household belongings, and got ready for their long voyage. There were only two children, Andrew and his younger brother, Tom. Those were the days of sailing vessels, and crossing the Atlantic meant a rough voyage of many weary weeks and, after that, long and tiresome railway journeys. Andrew was only eleven at this time.

The family reached Pittsburgh safely and Mr. Carnegie obtained work at a cotton factory. Soon after this Andrew got a position as a bobbin boy, at one dollar and twenty cents a week. He was delighted to be actually earning money. At the end of the first week, when his wages were put into his hand, he felt as happy as a king. One dollar and twenty cents, earned by his own efforts; how proud he felt!

The work was hard and the hours of labour very long. He worked from early morning till late at night, with only an interval of forty minutes for dinner. After a time he got another situation which was, if anything, even harder. This work was to fire the boiler and run the steam-engine which drove the machinery of a small factory. The work was so hard that it soon began to tell upon his health. Night and day he was haunted by the possibility of a calamity, and in his sleep he would often put out his hand to test the water-gauge.

Those were dark days for the young Scotch boy, but he determined not to bring his troubles into the home. He was blessed with a keen spirit of determination to succeed and, no matter how hard he found his work, he never complained. There was poverty in the home, but it was honest poverty and he was not ashamed of it. He often had to deny himself pleasures which other boys could afford, and had to wear his clothes long after they had become shabby; but nobody ever heard him grumble or complain.

When he became fourteen Andrew got a position as a telegraph boy at three dollars a week. There was not a prouder boy in Pittsburgh. Besides the advance in wages, the work was healthier. He was so overjoyed with his position that soon he began to fear lest he should lose it. He was not acquainted with the business section of the city where he had to deliver most of his messages, but he overcame this by using his excellent memory. He committed to memory the exact location of all the business houses in the principal streets, so that when a telegram was handed to him, he knew at once where it had to be delivered.

His regular habits and attention to his work soon attracted the attention of those over him and at the age of sixteen he was promoted to the position of telegraph operator, at a salary of three hundred dollars a year. This advance came at the right time, for Andrew's father had just died and the burden of carrying on the home fell upon Andrew's shoulders. Soon after this he accepted a position with the Pittsburgh Division of the Pennsylvania Railroad, at an increase of ten dollars a month.

At this time something happened which did much to change his whole life. Through the interest of his superintendent it became possible for him to purchase ten shares in The Adams Express Company for five hundred dollars. Andrew's business instinct led him to see that it was a splendid opportunity, and his mother was just as anxious as he was to make the venture. After a consultation they decided to mortgage their little home and buy the shares. This little transaction was destined to be the forerunner of many successful business deals.

One day, while he was travelling on the railway, a man showed him the model of a sleeping-car. Such things were at that time unknown, but Andrew saw instantly that the invention was a good one, and made arrangements for the inventor to meet the superintendent of the railroad. The outcome was that a company was formed to build sleeping-cars, and Andrew Carnegie was one of the number. Soon after this he was made superintendent of the Pittsburgh division of the Pennsylvania Railroad.

Not long after he was promoted to this position the company began to make experiments with an iron bridge. Up to this time all bridges had been built of wood. The experiments with iron proved successful. There had been so much delay on the railways by the bridges being broken or burned that the cast-iron bridges were welcomed. Mr. Carnegie, with his keen business instinct, saw at once that iron bridges must displace the wooden ones. He formed a syndicate known as The Keystone Bridge Works, and his first undertaking was to build a bridge with a span of three hundred feet over the Ohio River. Thus began the work of iron and steel constructions which Mr. Carnegie followed up until he became known throughout the world as the "Steel King."

Before many years had passed Mr. Carnegie not only owned his own immense iron and steel works, but also a fleet of steamers which were used to transport the iron ore across the Great Lakes. He built his own railroad to convey the ore from the lake ports to Pittsburgh, a distance of 425 miles.

In 1900 The Carnegie Steel Company was organized with a capital of one hundred million dollars. The enormous concern gave employment to 45,000 people. One of the plants alone covers an area of seventy-five acres. It is no exaggeration to say that it is by far the greatest manufacturing concern of its kind in the world. When Mr. Carnegie decided to retire he sold out his interest in the steel works for two hundred and fifty million dollars. It was said at that time that he could give away thirty-five thousand dollars a day and never touch his capital. For many years he gave large sums of money for public libraries and other enterprises which seemed to him to be deserving of assistance.

Having worked his own way in the world, from a very humble beginning to a position of great power and influence, Mr. Carnegie never had much patience with lazy people. He would never tolerate around him what are known as "dead heads". "Concentration," he said, "is my motto. First, honesty, then industry, then concentration." He expected every one in his employ to be anxious to do their best.

Throughout his life he was a man of good habits, and a non-smoker, and attributed his vigor of mind and body to the fact that he avoided anything which would undermine his health. The careful religious training which he received in his humble home in Scotland had a lasting influence for good upon his life. Clean living, honesty, and devotion to his work, no matter how hard it was, made Andrew Carnegie one of the foremost business men of his generation.