Autobiography of Andrew Carnegie
each other. I am optimistic; all my ducks being swans. He is
pessimistic, looking out soberly, even darkly, upon the real dangers
ahead, and sometimes imagining vain things. He is inclined to see
"an officer in every bush." The world seems bright to me, and earth
is often a real heaven--so happy I am and so thankful to the kind
fates. Morley is seldom if ever wild about anything; his judgment is
always deliberate and his eyes are ever seeing the spots on the sun.
[Footnote 67: _An American Four-in-Hand in Britain._]
[Footnote 68: "Mr. Carnegie had proved his originality, fullness of
mind, and bold strength of character, as much or more in the
distribution of wealth as he had shown skill and foresight in its
acquisition. We had become known to one another more than twenty years
before through Matthew Arnold. His extraordinary freshness of spirit
easily carried Arnold, Herbert Spencer, myself, and afterwards many
others, high over an occasional crudity or haste in judgment such as
befalls the best of us in ardent hours. People with a genius for
picking up pins made as much as they liked of this: it was wiser to do
justice to his spacious feel for the great objects of the world--for
knowledge and its spread, invention, light, improvement of social
relations, equal chances to the talents, the passion for peace. These
are glorious things; a touch of exaggeration in expression is easy to
set right.... A man of high and wide and well-earned mark in his
generation." (John, Viscount Morley, in _Recollections_, vol. II, pp.
110, 112. New York, 1919.)]
I told him the story of the pessimist whom nothing ever pleased, and
the optimist whom nothing ever displeased, being congratulated by the
angels upon their having obtained entrance to heaven. The pessimist
replied:
"Yes, very good place, but somehow or other this halo don't fit my
head exactly."
The optimist retorted by telling the story of a man being carried down
to purgatory and the Devil laying his victim up against a bank while
he got a drink at a spring--temperature very high. An old friend
accosted him:
"Well, Jim, how's this? No remedy possible; you're a gone coon sure."
The reply came: "Hush, it might be worse."
"How's that, when you are being carried down to the bottomless pit?"
"Hush"--pointing to his Satanic Majesty--"he might take a notion to
make me carry him."
Morley, like myself, was very fond of music and reveled in the morning
hour during which the organ was being played at Skibo. He was
attracted by the oratorios as also Arthur Balfour. I remember they got
tickets together for an oratorio at the Crystal Palace. Both are sane
but philosophic, and not very far apart as philosophers, I understand;
but some recent productions of Balfour send him far afield
speculatively--a field which Morley never attempts. He keeps his foot
on the firm ground and only treads where the way is cleared. No
danger of his being "lost in the woods" while searching for the path.
Morley's most astonishing announcement of recent days was in his
address to the editors of the world, assembled in London. He informed
them in effect that a few lines from Burns had done more to form and
maintain the present improved political and social conditions of the
people than all the millions of editorials ever written. This followed
a remark that there were now and then a few written or spoken words
which were in themselves events; they accomplished what they
described. Tom Paine's "Rights of Man" was mentioned as such.
Upon his arrival at Skibo after this address we talked it over. I
referred to his tribute to Burns and his six lines, and he replied
that he didn't need to tell me what lines these were.
"No," I said, "I know them by heart."
In a subsequent address, unveiling a statue of Burns in the park at
Montrose, I repeated the lines I supposed he referred to, and he
approved them. He and I, strange to say, had received the Freedom of
Montrose together years before, so we are fellow-freemen.
At last I induced Morley to visit us in America, and he made a tour
through a great part of our country in 1904. We tried to have him meet
distinguished men like himself. One day Senator Elihu Root called at
my request and Morley had a long interview with him. After the Senator
left Morley remarked to me that he had enjoyed his companion greatly,
as being the most satisfactory American statesman he had yet met. He
was not mistaken. For sound judgment and wide knowledge of our public
affairs Elihu Root has no superior.
Morley left us to pay a visit to President Roosevelt at the White
House, and spent several fruitful days in company with that
extraordinary man. Later, Morley's remark was:
"Well, I've seen two wonders in America, Roosevelt and Niagara."
That was clever and true to life--a great pair of roaring, tumbling,
dashing and splashing wonders, knowing no rest, but both doing their
appointed work, such as it is.
Morley was the best person to have the Acton library and my gift of it
to him came about in this way. When Mr. Gladstone told me the position
Lord Acton was in, I agreed, at his suggestion, to buy Acton's library
and allow it to remain for his use during life. Unfortunately, he did
not live long to enjoy it--only a few years--and then I had the
library upon my hands. I decided that Morley could make the best use
of it for himself and would certainly leave it eventually to the
proper institution. I began to tell him that I owned it when he
interrupted me, saying:
"Well, I must tell you I have known this from the day you bought it.
Mr. Gladstone couldn't keep the secret, being so overjoyed that Lord
Acton had it secure for life."
Here were he and I in close intimacy, and yet never had one mentioned
the situation to the other; but it was a surprise to me that Morley
was not surprised. This incident proved the closeness of the bond
between Gladstone and Morley--the only man he could not resist sharing
his happiness with regarding earthly affairs. Yet on theological
subjects they were far apart where Acton and Gladstone were akin.
The year after I gave the fund for the Scottish universities Morley
went to Balmoral as minister in attendance upon His Majesty, and wired
that he must see me before we sailed. We met and he informed me His
Majesty was deeply impressed with the gift to the universities and the
others I had made to my native land, and wished him to ascertain
whether there was anything in his power to bestow which I would
appreciate.
I asked: "What did you say?"
Morley replied: "I do not think so."
I said: "You are quite right, except that if His Majesty would write
me a note expressing his satisfaction with what I had done, as he has
to you, this would be deeply appreciated and handed down to my
descendants as something they would all be proud of."
This was done. The King's autograph note I have already transcribed
elsewhere in these pages.
That Skibo has proved the best of all health resorts for Morley is
indeed fortunate, for he comes to us several times each summer and is
one of the family, Lady Morley accompanying him. He is as fond of the
yacht as I am myself, and, fortunately again, it is the best medicine
for both of us. Morley is, and must always remain, "Honest John." No
prevarication with him, no nonsense, firm as a rock upon all questions
and in all emergencies; yet always looking around, fore and aft, right
and left, with a big heart not often revealed in all its tenderness,
but at rare intervals and upon fit occasion leaving no doubt of its
presence and power. And after that silence.
Chamberlain and Morley were fast friends as advanced radicals, and I
often met and conferred with them when in Britain. When the Home Rule
issue was raised, much interest was aroused in Britain over our
American Federal system. I was appealed to freely and delivered
public addresses in several cities, explaining and extolling our
union, many in one, the freest government of the parts producing the
strongest government of the whole. I sent Mr. Chamberlain Miss Anna L.
Dawes's "How We Are Governed," at his request for information, and had
conversations with Morley, Gladstone, and many others upon the
subject.
I had to write Mr. Morley that I did not approve of the first Home
Rule Bill for reasons which I gave. When I met Mr. Gladstone he
expressed his regret at this and a full talk ensued. I objected to the
exclusion of the Irish members from Parliament as being a practical
separation. I said we should never have allowed the Southern States to
cease sending representatives to Washington.
"What would you have done if they refused?" he asked.
"Employed all the resources of civilization--first, stopped the
mails," I replied.
He paused and repeated:
"Stop the mails." He felt the paralysis this involved and was silent,
and changed the subject.
In answer to questions as to what I should do, I always pointed out
that America had many legislatures, but only one Congress. Britain
should follow her example, one Parliament and local legislatures (not
parliaments) for Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. These should be made
states like New York and Virginia. But as Britain has no Supreme
Court, as we have, to decide upon laws passed, not only by state
legislatures but by Congress, the judicial being the final authority
and not the political, Britain should have Parliament as the one
national final authority over Irish measures. Therefore, the acts of
the local legislature of Ireland should lie for three months'
continuous session upon the table of the House of Commons, subject to
adverse action of the House, but becoming operative unless
disapproved. The provision would be a dead letter unless improper
legislation were enacted, but if there were improper legislation, then
it would be salutary. The clause, I said, was needed to assure timid
people that no secession could arise.
Urging this view upon Mr. Morley afterwards, he told me this had been
proposed to Parnell, but rejected. Mr. Gladstone might then have said:
"Very well, this provision is not needed for myself and others who
think with me, but it is needed to enable us to carry Britain with us.
I am now unable to take up the question. The responsibility is yours."
One morning at Hawarden Mrs. Gladstone said:
"William tells me he has such extraordinary conversations with you."
These he had, no doubt. He had not often, if ever, heard the breezy
talk of a genuine republican and did not understand my inability to
conceive of different hereditary ranks. It seemed strange to me that
men should deliberately abandon the name given them by their parents,
and that name the parents' name. Especially amusing were the new
titles which required the old hereditary nobles much effort to refrain
from smiling at as they greeted the newly made peer who had perhaps
bought his title for ten thousand pounds, more or less, given to the
party fund.
Mr. Blaine was with us in London and I told Mr. Gladstone he had
expressed to me his wonder and pain at seeing him in his old age hat
in hand, cold day as it was, at a garden party doing homage to titled
nobodies. Union of Church and State was touched upon, and also my
"Look Ahead," which foretells the reunion of our race owing to the
inability of the British Islands to expand. I had held that the
disestablishment of the English Church was inevitable, because among
other reasons it was an anomaly. No other part of the race had it. All
religions were fostered, none favored, in every other English-speaking
state. Mr. Gladstone asked: