ments of art, to dignify and exalt the great mechanical fraternity who filled that palace with wonders.

What is this but setting the great distinctive seal upon the nineteenth century? What is this but an advertisement of the fact that society has risen to a higher platform than ever before? What is this but a proclamation, announcing honor, honor immortal, to the workmen who fill the world with beauty, comfort, and power; honor to be forever embalmed in history, to be perpetuated in monuments, to be written in the hearts of this and succeeding generations?

JOHN PENDLeton Kennedy.

9. SUCCESS IN LIFE.

I HAVE been requested to say something which may be of benefit to young men; and if anything I can say will help the young to lead good and useful lives, I am willing to say it. There is nothing miraculous in the success I have met with. If a man has good principles, and does his best to act up to them, he should not fail of success, though it may not be success of precisely the same kind or degree as mine. Good principles are just as good for the artist as for the mechanic, for the poet as for the farmer, for the man of business as for the clergyman. Would you learn the lesson of success? Here it is in three words. Would you climb the ladder? Here it is, just three rounds: Industry, Temperance, Frugality. Write these words upon your hearts, and practise them in your lives. It is a good thing to have a good motto, but it is better to live up to one. Five other mottoes have been helpful and encouraging to me throughout my busy life: "Be true," "Be kind," "Keep out of debt," "Do the

best, and leave the rest," "What can't be cured must be endured."

I began to support myself when I was twelve years old, and I have never been dependent on others since. I had had some schooling, but not much. I came to Philadelphia with three dollars in my pocket. I found board and lodgings for two dollars and a half, and then I got a place in a bookstore for three dollars. That gave me a surplus of fifty cents a week. I did not merely do the work that I was required to do; but did all I could, and put my whole heart into it. I wanted my employer to feel that I was more useful to him than he expected me to be. I was not afraid to make fires, clean and sweep, and perform what some young gentlemen, nowadays, consider as menial work, and therefore beneath · them. The Bible says that it is what cometh out of the mouth that defileth a man. It is not work, but character, that can be discreditable.

But a man can be industrious, and yet his industry may not achieve much valuable result. You must not only work, but you must select your work with intelligence. You must be preparing the way for what you intend to become, as well as do well what lies in your hand. While I was working as an errand-boy, I improved such opportunity as I had to read books, and attend book sales at night, so as to learn the market value of books, and anything else that might be useful hereafter in my business. I fixed my ambition high, so that I might at least be always tending upward. I lived near a theatre, and many of the actors knew me, so that I might have gone and witnessed the performances. Other boys did it, and I would have liked to do it. But I thought it over, and concluded I would not, and I never did. This selfdenial, if it may be called that, did not make me morose or unhappy. You must not yield to the temptation to

relax your efforts, and turn off and amuse yourself. I was always cheerful, took an interest in my work, and took pleasure in doing it well, and in the feeling that I was getting on in a way to become something. When, at last, I had an office in the Public Ledger Building, I believe I said to myself, "Some time I will own that paper." At any rate, I directed my work in such a way that, when the time came that I was able to buy it, I was also able to manage it properly.

I have always believed that it is possible to unite success in business with strict moral integrity. If the record of my life has any value, it is in showing that it is not necessary to success in business that a man should indulge in "sharp" practices. Riches cannot compensate a man for the consciousness of having lived a dishonorable and selfish life.

I cannot lay too strong a stress on the matter of strict temperance. You should have courage enough to say, "No," if you are asked to drink. There is no safety in moderate drinking; every one who touches it at all, is in danger. It does no good, and if the habit is continued, it is almost sure to lead to destruction and death.

Perhaps I ought to say a word about the companions a young man should choose for himself in life. You should try to make companions of the best people you can become acquainted with. It is not necessary for this purpose to be a genius, or to have remarkable talent or extraordinary erudition. But be yourself, and be a man, and learn to think of others before yourself, and you will have friends enough, and of the best. A man is known by the company he keeps, and those who know what friends you have will be able to form a very correct idea of what you yourself are. You should see to it that this estimate be as high as your opportunities may secure.

Perhaps I cannot better sum up my advice to young

people than to say that I have derived, and still find, the greatest pleasure in my life from doing good to others. Do good constantly, patiently, and wisely, and you will never have cause to say that your life was not worth living.

GEORGE W. CHILDS.

10. THE CRITICAL CONDITIONS OF

LABOR.

EXTRACTS from Address of Ex-President BENJAMIN HARRISON, before the 28th graduating class of the Peirce School of Business and Shorthand, Philadelphia, December 20th, 1893.

THE demand for cheapness has compacted capital and consolidated small enterprises. In the old time, when shops were small, the owner knew every man in his employ, his name, his skill, his disposition, and, not unlikely, something of his home and family. He exchanged daily greetings with him, and commended his work. And, on his part, the workman took a pride in the shop, and confidently went to his employer for advice as to the investment of his savings. The relation was of man with man, and often seasoned with friendly confidence. But when the fifty becomes five thousand, much of this becomes impossible, and the rest of it is rare. How shall the owner have personal touch with the multitude? How can the workmen be made to know, if the truth be so; and if not, how can it be made true that the owner of the mill "thinketh upon them;" that their contentment, happiness, and prosperity are his concern; that he esteems them men, not implements, not lesser cogs that can only feel the grinding contact of the master-wheels, but men who are moved by touch of brother's palm and heart.

And how shall the workman's heart be cleansed of envy and misjudgment, and to reciprocate every manifestation of interest on the part of the employer? Like the armed peace maintained in Europe, this situation is costly and dangerous. Every benevolent and thoughtful man is anxious and distressed. I suppose a just and perfect peace will not be established until the kingdom of the Elder Brother is set up throughout the world, and the Golden Rule becomes the law of life. But this war can be restricted, and its evils ameliorated. We ought to be able to settle some one principle, if we cannot in every case agree as to the application.

We have our Gradgrinds, our snobs, our purse-proud sons of artisan fathers, our dudes and butterflies, our English counterfeits; but the mass of our people, of the rich as well as the men of moderate means, have a genuine, hearty human sympathy and fellowship with the honest sons of toil. The chief trouble is not want of heart or of right judgment, but to hold busy men long enough to hear the tale of wrong, and to discriminate between it and the false appeal that lies in wait for every man of wealth or influence. And, on the other hand, the American workmen and by that I mean all, whether native or foreign born, who are in spirit and purpose American are, as a body, intelligent, spirited, and patriotic. They will not bear patronizing, but they are hungry for fraternity.

The working-men, if you give these terms their proper shape, are the civil bulk of the nation. Everything is borne up and borne along by them. They are the musket bearers. The great Union Army was like the kingdom. of Heaven in one respect, "not many mighty were enrolled." These sturdy sons will come again, should war's dread alarms again wake our streets and valleys. But why should not we call them "comrades" now?

It