Autobiography of Andrew Carnegie
better understood. To-day we have in America 1430 hero pensioners or
their families on our list.
I found the president for the Hero Fund in a Carnegie veteran, one of
the original boys, Charlie Taylor. No salary for Charlie--not a cent
would he ever take. He loves the work so much that I believe he would
pay highly for permission to live with it. He is the right man in the
right place. He has charge also, with Mr. Wilmot's able assistance, of
the pensions for Carnegie workmen (Carnegie Relief Fund[47]); also the
pensions for railway employees of my old division. Three relief funds
and all of them benefiting others.
[Footnote 47: This fund is now managed separately.]
I got my revenge one day upon Charlie, who was always urging me to do
for others. He is a graduate of Lehigh University and one of her most
loyal sons. Lehigh wished a building and Charlie was her chief
advocate. I said nothing, but wrote President Drinker offering the
funds for the building conditioned upon my naming it. He agreed, and I
called it "Taylor Hall." When Charlie discovered this, he came and
protested that it would make him ridiculous, that he had only been a
modest graduate, and was not entitled to have his name publicly
honored, and so on. I enjoyed his plight immensely, waiting until he
had finished, and then said that it would probably make him somewhat
ridiculous if I insisted upon "Taylor Hall," but he ought to be
willing to sacrifice himself somewhat for Lehigh. If he wasn't
consumed with vanity he would not care much how his name was used if
it helped his Alma Mater. Taylor was not much of a name anyhow. It was
his insufferable vanity that made such a fuss. He should conquer it.
He could make his decision. He could sacrifice the name of Taylor or
sacrifice Lehigh, just as he liked, but: "No Taylor, no Hall." I had
him! Visitors who may look upon that structure in after days and
wonder who Taylor was may rest assured that he was a loyal son of
Lehigh, a working, not merely a preaching, apostle of the gospel of
service to his fellow-men, and one of the best men that ever lived.
Such is our Lord High Commissioner of Pensions.
CHAPTER XX
EDUCATIONAL AND PENSION FUNDS
The fifteen-million-dollar pension fund for aged university professors
(The Carnegie Endowment for the Advancement of Learning), the fourth
important gift, given in June, 1905, required the selection of
twenty-five trustees from among the presidents of educational
institutions in the United States. When twenty-four of
these--President Harper, of Chicago University, being absent through
illness--honored me by meeting at our house for organization, I
obtained an important accession of those who were to become more
intimate friends. Mr. Frank A. Vanderlip proved of great service at
the start--his Washington experience being most valuable--and in our
president, Dr. Henry S. Pritchett, we found the indispensable man.
This fund is very near and dear to me--knowing, as I do, many who are
soon to become beneficiaries, and convinced as I am of their worth and
the value of the service already rendered by them. Of all professions,
that of teaching is probably the most unfairly, yes, most meanly paid,
though it should rank with the highest. Educated men, devoting their
lives to teaching the young, receive mere pittances. When I first took
my seat as a trustee of Cornell University, I was shocked to find how
small were the salaries of the professors, as a rule ranking below the
salaries of some of our clerks. To save for old age with these men is
impossible. Hence the universities without pension funds are compelled
to retain men who are no longer able, should no longer be required, to
perform their duties. Of the usefulness of the fund no doubt can be
entertained.[48] The first list of beneficiaries published was
conclusive upon this point, containing as it did several names of
world-wide reputation, so great had been their contributions to the
stock of human knowledge. Many of these beneficiaries and their widows
have written me most affecting letters. These I can never destroy, for
if I ever have a fit of melancholy, I know the cure lies in re-reading
these letters.
[Footnote 48: The total amount of this fund in 1919 was $29,250,000.]
My friend, Mr. Thomas Shaw (now Lord Shaw), of Dunfermline had written
an article for one of the English reviews showing that many poor
people in Scotland were unable to pay the fees required to give their
children a university education, although some had deprived themselves
of comforts in order to do so. After reading Mr. Shaw's article the
idea came to me to give ten millions in five per cent bonds, one half
of the L104,000 yearly revenue from it to be used to pay the fees of
the deserving poor students and the other half to improve the
universities.
The first meeting of the trustees of this fund (The Carnegie Trust for
the Universities of Scotland) was held in the Edinburgh office of the
Secretary of State for Scotland in 1902, Lord Balfour of Burleigh
presiding. It was a notable body of men--Prime Minister Balfour, Sir
Henry Campbell-Bannerman (afterwards Prime Minister), John Morley (now
Viscount Morley), James Bryce (now Viscount Bryce), the Earl of Elgin,
Lord Rosebery, Lord Reay, Mr. Shaw (now Lord Shaw), Dr. John Ross of
Dunfermline, "the man-of-all-work" that makes for the happiness or
instruction of his fellow-man, and others. I explained that I had
asked them to act because I could not entrust funds to the faculties
of the Scottish universities after reading the report of a recent
commission. Mr. Balfour promptly exclaimed: "Not a penny, not a
penny!" The Earl of Elgin, who had been a member of the commission,
fully concurred.
The details of the proposed fund being read, the Earl of Elgin was not
sure about accepting a trust which was not strict and specific. He
wished to know just what his duties were. I had given a majority of
the trustees the right to change the objects of beneficence and modes
of applying funds, should they in after days decide that the purposes
and modes prescribed for education in Scotland had become unsuitable
or unnecessary for the advanced times. Balfour of Burleigh agreed with
the Earl and so did Prime Minister Balfour, who said he had never
heard of a testator before who was willing to give such powers. He
questioned the propriety of doing so.
"Well," I said, "Mr. Balfour, I have never known of a body of men
capable of legislating for the generation ahead, and in some cases
those who attempt to legislate even for their own generation are not
thought to be eminently successful."
There was a ripple of laughter in which the Prime Minister himself
heartily joined, and he then said:
"You are right, quite right; but you are, I think, the first great
giver who has been wise enough to take this view."
I had proposed that a majority should have the power, but Lord Balfour
suggested not less than two thirds. This was accepted by the Earl of
Elgin and approved by all. I am very sure it is a wise provision, as
after days will prove. It is incorporated in all my large gifts, and I
rest assured that this feature will in future times prove valuable.
The Earl of Elgin, of Dunfermline, did not hesitate to become
Chairman of this trust. When I told Premier Balfour that I hoped Elgin
could be induced to assume this duty, he said promptly, "You could not
get a better man in Great Britain."
We are all entirely satisfied now upon that point. The query is: where
could we get his equal?
It is an odd coincidence that there are only four living men who have
been made Burgesses and received the Freedom of Dunfermline, and all
are connected with the trust for the Universities of Scotland, Sir
Henry Campbell-Bannerman, the Earl of Elgin, Dr. John Ross, and
myself. But there is a lady in the circle to-day, the only one ever so
greatly honored with the Freedom of Dunfermline, Mrs. Carnegie, whose
devotion to the town, like my own, is intense.
My election to the Lord Rectorship of St. Andrews in 1902 proved a
very important event in my life. It admitted me to the university
world, to which I had been a stranger. Few incidents in my life have
so deeply impressed me as the first meeting of the faculty, when I
took my seat in the old chair occupied successively by so many
distinguished Lord Rectors during the nearly five hundred years which
have elapsed since St. Andrews was founded. I read the collection of
rectorial speeches as a preparation for the one I was soon to make.
The most remarkable paragraph I met with in any of them was Dean
Stanley's advice to the students to "go to Burns for your theology."
That a high dignitary of the Church and a favorite of Queen Victoria
should venture to say this to the students of John Knox's University
is most suggestive as showing how even theology improves with the
years. The best rules of conduct are in Burns. First there is: "Thine
own reproach alone do fear." I took it as a motto early in life. And
secondly:
"The fear o' hell's a hangman's whip
To haud the wretch in order;
But where ye feel your honor grip,
Let that aye be your border."
John Stuart Mill's rectorial address to the St. Andrews students is
remarkable. He evidently wished to give them of his best. The
prominence he assigns to music as an aid to high living and pure
refined enjoyment is notable. Such is my own experience.
An invitation given to the principals of the four Scotch universities
and their wives or daughters to spend a week at Skibo resulted in much
joy to Mrs. Carnegie and myself. The first meeting was attended by the
Earl of Elgin, chairman of the Trust for the Universities of Scotland,
and Lord Balfour of Burleigh, Secretary for Scotland, and Lady
Balfour. After that "Principals' Week" each year became an established
custom. They as well as we became friends, and thereby, they all
agree, great good results to the universities. A spirit of cooeperation
is stimulated. Taking my hand upon leaving after the first yearly
visit, Principal Lang said:
"It has taken the principals of the Scotch universities five hundred
years to learn how to begin our sessions. Spending a week together is
the solution."
One of the memorable results of the gathering at Skibo in 1906 was
that Miss Agnes Irwin, Dean of Radcliffe College, and
great-granddaughter of Benjamin Franklin, spent the principals' week
with us and all were charmed with her. Franklin received his first
doctor's degree from St. Andrews University, nearly one hundred and
fifty years ago. The second centenary of his birth was finely
celebrated in Philadelphia, and St. Andrews, with numerous other
universities throughout the world, sent addresses. St. Andrews also
sent a degree to the great-granddaughter. As Lord Rector, I was
deputed to confer it and place the mantle upon her. This was done the
first evening before a large audience, when more than two hundred
addresses were presented.
The audience was deeply impressed, as well it might be. St. Andrews
University, the first to confer the degree upon the great-grandfather,
conferred the same degree upon the great-grandchild one hundred and
forty-seven years later (and this upon her own merits as Dean of
Radcliffe College); sent it across the Atlantic to be bestowed by the
hands of its Lord Rector, the first who was not a British subject, but
who was born one as Franklin was, and who became an American citizen
as Franklin did; the ceremony performed in Philadelphia where Franklin
rests, in the presence of a brilliant assembly met to honor his
memory. It was all very beautiful, and I esteemed myself favored,
indeed, to be the medium of such a graceful and appropriate ceremony.