o has given away more
money in noble causes than any other man who has ever lived since
history began.

The Scotch stand in popular estimate for religious bigotry, yet the
offense of Andrew Carnegie to a vast number of people is his liberal
attitude of mind in all matters pertaining to religion. Then the Scotch
are supposed to be a pugnacious, quarrelsome and fighting people, but
here is a man who has made his name known as the symbol of disarmament
and international peace.

Those three great and good Scotsmen, leaders in the world of
business--James Oliver, Philip D. Armour and Andrew Carnegie--were each
the very antithesis of dogmatists and sectarians. They respected all
religions, but had implicit faith in none. All were learners; all were
men of peace; all had a firm hold on the plain, old, simple virtues
which can not be waived when you make up your formula for a man. They
were industrious, systematic, economical, persistent and physically
sound. If there is any secret in the success of the Scotch it lies in
the fact that they are such good animals. The basis of life is physical.
The climate of Scotland makes for a sturdy manhood that pays cash and
seldom apologizes for being on earth.

Unlike James Oliver and Philip Armour, Andrew Carnegie is small
in stature. He belongs to the type of big little men, of which
Napoleon, Aaron Burr, Alexander Hamilton and General Grant are
examples--deep-chested, strong-jawed, well-poised, big little men who
wear the crowns of their heads high and their chins in. These are good
men to agree with. They carry no excess baggage. They travel light. They
can change their minds and plans easily. Such men take charge of things
by a sort of divine right.

* * * * *

Now, be it known that Andrew Carnegie was born in decent poverty at
Dunfermline, Fifeshire, Scotland, in the year Eighteen Hundred
Thirty-seven.

His father was a weaver by trade. This was in the day of the hand-loom.
There were four damask-looms in the Carnegie house, worked by the family
and apprentices. There was no ring-up clock, and no walking delegates
were in evidence. When business was good these looms sang their merry
tunes far into the night. When business was dull, perhaps one loom
echoed its tired solo. Then there came a time when there was no work;
hopeless melancholy settled on the little household, and drawn, anxious
faces looked into other faces from which hope had fled.