Chapter III: Part 3

Certainly the education of the schools is the best; and let me urge you with all seriousness to make the best use of your opportunities. You can never learn as easily as now. You are young. You are not burdened with cares. Do not relax your efforts in the least; do not yield to weariness; do not think you know enough already; do not be impatient lest others of your own age, who have already left school to go to work, get ahead of you in trade or in any kind of business; if they have the start of you, they may not be able to keep it; and depend upon it, in the long run you will overtake and pass them, other things being equal, if you have a better school education than they have. When you are told that young men who are well educated are thereby unfitted or unwilling to take the lowest places in trade or business, do not believe it. I know the contrary. The better the school education you have, and the more you know, the more valuable you will be to your employer.

Another kind of education is called, but most inaccurately, _self-education_. All that I mean by it is, that education which one acquires without teachers. As so defined, it may be divided into two parts, viz.: the incidental and the direct.

Let me speak first of the _incidental_.

I mean by this that education that comes to us from society.

You cannot live alone, and you ought not to if you could. You seek companions, or other persons will seek you. Let your associates be those whose friendship will be an instruction to you, rather than simply a means of social enjoyment. There are young people of both sexes who, without being vicious, are utterly weak and foolish, idle and listless, drifting along a current, the end of which they do not care to think of. They are living for this life only, with no thought of the future, no ambition, mere butterflies, who float in the sunshine when the sun is shining, but who, in a dark and cloudy day, are bored and miserable, and utterly useless. Sometimes they are pleasant enough to chat with for a few minutes, but to be shut up to such companionship as this, would be intolerable. Society has a large element of this description, and you are likely to see it in your daily life.

But this is not the worst phase of life among the young people with whom you may be thrown. There are worse elements than this. There are those who are depraved to a degree quite beyond their age; who have given themselves up to work all uncleanness with greediness; who put no restraint on their inclinations; in whose eyes nothing is pure or sacred; who have no respect for that which is wholesome or decent; who are the devil’s own children, and who are not ashamed of their parentage. And to such baleful, deadly influences and associations will you be exposed, my young friends, and you may not be apprised of their true character until it is too late.

But there are _direct_ means of education, so called.

The first of these which I mention is the use of books. This is unquestionably the best means. I am supposing that you have some taste for reading; if you have not, it is hardly worth while for me to speak, or for you to listen. I know some people who rarely read a book, and I pity them. They seem to think that all that is necessary to read is the daily newspaper. I do not say that such persons are necessarily very ignorant, for very much may be learned from the daily paper. But the newspaper does not pretend to supply all that you need, to fit you for a life of business, either as a dealer in merchandise, a professional man or a mechanic. No; you must read books, not only for entertainment and recreation, but for information and culture, which you can obtain nowhere else. If there is no public library within your reach, seek out some kind-hearted man or woman who has books, and who will be willing to lend them to one who is in search of knowledge. I well remember a gentleman in my early life who did this kind office for me before I was able to buy books, and there are such now who will do the same for you.

If you have little knowledge of books, you ought to ask the advice of some practical friend to point out such as you may most safely and properly read. For if left to your own judgment or taste, you will probably waste valuable time, or be discouraged by an attempt to read something not immediately necessary or appropriate. But do not attempt to follow an elaborate plan of reading, such as you will find detailed in some books, for you are very likely to be discouraged by the greatness of the task. Such lists, I fancy, are made out by scholars who have read almost everything, and to whom reading is no task whatever, and who have plenty of time. Do not attempt to read too many books, nor too much at a time, and do not be disappointed or discouraged if you are not able to remember or put to good account all that you read. You cannot always know what particular kind of food has afforded you the most nourishment. You may rest assured, however, that as every morsel of food that you take and are able to digest does something to build up and develop your system, or repair its waste, so every book or paper that you read, that is wholesome, does something, you may not know how much, to strengthen or develop your mind.

There are books that you read for entertainment or recreation, and that are written for that purpose only. You may read such; indeed, you ought to read them, for you need, as everybody else needs, recreation and amusement, and there is much of the purest and best of this that you can get from books. But you must not make the mistake of supposing that most, or even a very large proportion, of your reading can be of this character. You would not think of making your daily meals of the articles of food that you enjoy as the sweets of your meals. You would not think of living on sponge-cake and ice-cream for a regular diet. You might as well do so, as to read only the light and humorous matter that was never intended for the mental diet of a working man. No. If you would attain the real object of reading and study, you must read and study books and papers that tax the full powers of your mind to understand them. This will soon strengthen the quality of your mind, even as the exercise of your muscles in work or play will develop a strength of body that the idle or lazy youth knows nothing of.

If you would know how to make yourself master of any book that you read, form the habit, if the book is your own, of making notes with a pencil in the margin of the pages; but if the book is not your property, or in any case, take a sheet of paper and write at the end of every chapter questions on the matter discussed, and the answer to such questions will probably bring out the author’s meaning so fully that you will have _absorbed_ the book and made it your own; for, as an eminent American author has said, “thought is the property of whoever can entertain it.”

I said just now that the daily newspaper does not pretend to supply all that you need to fit you for a life of business, either as a dealer in goods, or as a mechanic or clerk. But the daily paper is a most important means of education――so important that no one can afford to ignore it. Now-a-days one cannot be well informed who does not read the newspaper. The whole world is brought before us every morning and evening, and, if we do not read the news as it comes, we shall not know what we ought to know. It is not necessary to read everything in a daily paper; there are some things that it will be better for you not to read. You need not read all the editorials, brilliant as some of them are, for sometimes they discuss subjects that are not at all interesting nor useful to you. The newspaper from which I make the most clippings is one which is the fullest of advertisements, but which sometimes has nothing whatever in it that I read. But when it does discuss a subject of interest, it is apt to leave nothing further to be said.

But to read with the most advantage one ought to have within easy reach a dictionary, an atlas and, if possible, an encyclopedia. Then you can read with profit, and the mere outlines which the newspaper gives can be filled up by reference to books which give more or less complete histories.

The political articles which appear in the height of a campaign are hardly worth reading, unless you think of entering politics as a money-making business, which I sincerely hope none of you think of doing. And I am sure that the full accounts of crime, and especially the details of police reports and criminal trials, you will do well to pass by and not read. I really believe that a familiarity with these details prepares the way, in many instances, for the commission of crime, just as the reading of accounts of suicide sometimes leads to the act itself.

Some of the best minds in our country, and in the world, are now employed in writing for the periodicals and magazines. No one can be well informed without reading something of the vast amount of matter which is thus poured out before him. I have not named the newspapers nor the magazines which you may read with the most profit; but your teachers can advise you what to read. Rather is it important for you to know what _not_ to read. Many of the most popular and the most useful books that have been published within the last quarter of a century have appeared first in the pages of a weekly or monthly paper. The best thoughts of the best thinkers sometimes first see the light in such pages.

Besides the newspaper and the literary magazine, there are scientific periodicals, which are of essential value to a worker who wishes to be well informed in any of the mechanical arts. The _Scientific American_ is, perhaps, the best of this class, both in the beauty of its illustrations and in the high quality of its contributions. The _Popular Science Monthly_ is a periodical of a wider range and more diversified character. These periodicals, if you are not able to subscribe for them as individuals or in clubs, you may find in the public library. But let me urge you to turn away from “dime novels.” Not because they are cheap, but because they are often unwholesome and immoral. The vile, fiery, poisonous whiskey which so many wretched creatures drink until the coatings of the stomach are destroyed, and the brain is on fire, is no more fatal to the health and life, than is the immoral literature I speak of, to the mind and soul of him who reads. There is an abundance of good literature that is cheap――do not read the bad.

Having now spoken of the education you may get in the schools, and that which you may acquire for yourselves, if you have the pluck to strive for it, either in the society which you cultivate, or more directly from books, whether read as an entertainment and recreation, or, better still, by careful study; or through the daily newspaper, or the periodical, whether literary or scientific; or, what is best of all, that which is decidedly religious; I turn now to the education which you will acquire when you work day by day at your trade or business.

Let me beg of you to consider the great value of truthfulness in all your training. Hardly anything will help you more to reach up towards the top. And when you are at the head of an establishment of your own or somebody else’s (and I take it for granted you will be at the head some day), whether it be a workshop or factory of any kind, or a store, no matter what, a fixed habit of keeping your word, of not promising unless you are certain of keeping your promise, will almost insure your success if you are a good workman. How many good mechanics have utterly failed of success because they have not cared to keep their promises? A firm of high reputation agrees to supply certain articles of furniture at a time fixed by them. The time comes but the articles do not come. A call of inquiry is made and new promises are made only to be broken. Excuses are offered and more promises given; then incomplete articles are sent; then more delays, until, when patience is nearly exhausted, the work is finished. Then comes the bill and there is a mistake in it. The whole transaction is a series of disappointments and misunderstandings. Will you ever incline to go to that place again?

It is usual for miners of coal to place their sons, as they become ten or twelve years of age, at the foot of the great breakers to watch the coal as it comes rattling and broken down the great wire screens, and catch the pieces of slate and throw them to one side and allow only the pure coal to pass down into the huge bins, from which it is dropped into the cars and taken to market. To an uneducated eye there is hardly any perceptible difference between the coal and the slate. But these little fellows soon become so quick in the education of the eye, that they can tell in an instant the difference. When the boy grows older he graduates to the place of a mule driver, and has his car and mule, which he drives day by day from the mouth of the mine to the breaker. Then when he begins to be of age he fixes his little oil lamp in the front of his cap, and goes down into the mines with his pick and becomes a miner of coal. It seems a dreary life to spend most of one’s time under the ground, shut out from the sunshine and from the pure air. And most of these men having no education, and never having been urged to seek one, are content to spend all their days in this manner. But occasionally there is one who feels that he is capable of better things than this. And I know one at least, who began his work at the foot of a coal breaker and worked his way up through all these stages, as I have told you, and who determined to do something better for himself. So he gave much of his leisure (and everybody has some leisure) to study; nor was he discouraged by the difficulties in his way. He persevered. He rose to be a boss among the men; then having saved some money, instead of wasting it at the tavern, he bought his teams, and then bought an interest in a coal mine, and became a miner of his own coal, and had his men under him, and has grown to be a rich man, and is not ashamed of his small beginnings nor of his hard work. This is only one instance of success in rising from a low position to a high one.

The same thing is going on all around us and we see it every day. It would hardly be proper to give you names, but I could tell you of many within my own knowledge who, from positions of extremely hard labor and plain living, have risen to be the head men in shops and other places which they entered at the lowest places. Such changes are continually occurring. And there is no reason whatever, except your indifference, to prevent many of you from becoming, if God gives you health, the head men, in the places where you begin work as subordinates or in very low positions. And I tell you what you know already, that there is plenty of room for advancement. It is the lowest places that are full to overflowing. Who ever heard of a strike among the _chiefs_ of any industry? No, indeed. They have made themselves indispensable to their employers and they don’t need to strike. And there is hardly a youth who cannot by strict attention to business, and conscientious devotion to the interests of his employer, make himself so invaluable that he need not join any trades union for protection. Do the vast army of clerks in the various corporations, or in the great commercial houses, or in the public service, or in the army and navy――do these people ever band themselves in any associations like the trades unions? They know better than that; they accomplish their purposes in better ways. If the working classes, so called, were better educated, they would not suffer themselves to be led by the nose by people who will not themselves work, who will not touch even with their little fingers the burdens which are crushing the life out of the deluded ones whom they are leading to folly. It is a true education that is needed, a true conscience that must be cultivated, to enable men to do their own thinking, and to determine for themselves what are their best interests.

I urge you all to seek that higher and better education which will make you true men. You have now the great advantage of the education of the school. I have tried very simply, but not the less earnestly, to show you how you can fit yourselves for high places. It is for you to say whether you will avail yourselves of these plain hints. No earthly power can force you to do that which you will not do. You may lead a horse to a brimming fountain of water, but if he is not thirsty, no coaxing nor threatening nor beating can make him drink. I may show you, to demonstration, the abundant fountain of learning, but I can’t make you drink, or even stoop to taste the stream, if you are not thirsty. I can’t make you study, however great the advantage to you, or however much they who are interested in you desire that you should.

Every year this question which I have been pressing upon you becomes more and more important. The great colleges of the country are graduating their thousands of students, many of whom will compete with you for the high places in the mechanic arts. So are the public schools of the country sending out hundreds of thousands, many of them having the same aim. Technical schools, teaching the mechanic arts, are multiplying. Great changes have been made recently in our own city in this respect. The Spring Garden Institute is doing a noble work in this way. Our own college is moving in the same direction, and soon it will be sending out its hundreds every year to compete for places in the shops, with this great advantage, that you Girard boys have a school education――the best that you are able to receive, and you must not let any others go ahead of you.

Look at the poor, ignorant people from abroad who sweep our streets――look at the stevedores who load and unload the ships――look at the men who carry the hod of mortar or bricks up the high and steep ladders――look at the drivers and the conductors on our street cars, the most hard worked people among us――and are you not sure that most of these people are _un_educated? No one wants to be at the bottom all the time. We may have been there at the first; but those who have made the most progress are generally those who have had the best education. I know that education is not a sure guarantee of success; many other things enter into the consideration of the question; but I am saying that, other things being equal, _he who knows the most will do the best_. There are, alas, many instances of the sons of the rich, who have been well educated, who have everything provided for them, who have no stimulus, no spur; who have no regular occupation, and need not have any; many of whom sink into idleness and dissipation, and their fine education goes for nothing. But you are not of this class. You will have to make your way in the world by your own exertions.

I shall fail of my duty if I do not say some words about such boys as sometimes stand at the corners of the streets in large or small companies and amuse themselves by smoking and chewing tobacco, telling bad stories and making remarks upon those who pass by. I am sure much of this arises from thoughtlessness; but I wish to point out the exceeding impropriety of this behavior. I have known ladies to cross the street and, at much inconvenience, go quite out of their way rather than pass within hearing of these boys and young men. What right has any one to make the streets disagreeable to any passenger, to block up the way or make loose or rude remarks, or defile the pavement over which I walk?

All this most serious waste of time is probably because no one has particularly called attention to it. The time may come when you will recall the words of advice which you hear to-day, and you may regret when it is too late that you turned a deaf ear to what was said.

I have now tried, in as much detail as the time will permit, to show the importance of that education which will enable you to rise in your trade or business, whatever it may be, to the upper places; and I have tried to show that a true ambition leads one to strive to be _chief_ rather than a _subordinate_, to be a _foreman_ rather than a _journeyman_.

But, after all, everything will depend upon yourselves and upon God. There is no royal road to education; the very meaning of the word shows this; the mind must be drawn out, worked over, developed, rounded, hammered, somewhat as a blacksmith puts a piece of rough iron in the coals, keeps it there until it is red-hot, then draws it out, lays it upon his anvil and hammers it, turning it over and over, striking it first on this side and then on that, rounding it off; then when it cools thrusting it among the coals again, then hammering away again until he has brought the rough piece of iron to the size and shape he wishes, when he allows it to cool and harden. If you are willing to work your mind into the shape you want it, you will surely bring yourself to the front among active, ingenious and successful men. But this means hard work, and work all the time.

Now if you mean to avail yourselves of any of the hints which I have given you, if you really mean to succeed, if you are not content to be workers low down in the scale of industry, if you mean to rise rather than to be obscure, if you intend to be well-to-do men, instead of living from hand to mouth, you must grapple with the subject with all your might and keep at it all the time. And you must keep out of the streets at night, away from the taverns and from the low theatres, and from gambling dens, and from other places which I will not name; and, in short, you must be true Americans, for there is no truer type of manhood in all the world than a real American; and nowhere else in all the world has a poor boy so good an opportunity to be and do all this, as in our own good city of Philadelphia.

WILLIAM PENN.

October 22, 1882.

In the early autumn of the year 1682, a vessel with her bow pointing towards the west was making her way slowly across the Atlantic ocean. She was a small craft, rigged as a ship, and crowded with emigrants. The discomforts of a long and tiresome voyage, the very small accommodations, the horror of sea-sickness, were in this vessel aggravated by the breaking out of that most awful of all scourges, the small-pox. In a very short time, out of a population of one hundred, thirty passengers died. No record is left of the incidents of that voyage except this; but it is easy to imagine that all the circumstances were as deplorable as they could well be.

After a weary time of head winds and calms, in about seven weeks, this ship, the “Welcome,” came within the capes of the Delaware bay.

The most distinguished person on that little ship was William Penn. He had left his home in England, embarking with his trusty friends in a vessel only one-tenth the size of the ships of our American Line, to come to Pennsylvania. He had bought the whole province from the government of England for the sum of £16,000 sterling, which, measured by our money, is about $80,000, and this money was due to him for services rendered and money loaned to the government by his father, an admiral in the English navy.

About the 24th of October the vessel reached the town of Newcastle, where Penn landed and was cordially received by the people of that little village. Afterwards they came farther up the river to Uplands, now the town or city of Chester. Then, leaving the vessel here, they came in a barge (Penn and some of his principal men) to the mouth of Dock creek, the foot of what is now known as Dock street, where they landed, near a little tavern called the Blue Anchor.

There was already a settlement on the shore of the Delaware river, and the people, mostly Swedes, had built a little church somewhat farther down the stream. The entire land between the Delaware and Schuylkill rivers, and for a mile north and south, was owned by three brothers, Swedes, named Swen. Penn bought this tract from them, and at once proceeded to lay out his new city. When he bought the whole province from the crown he desired to call it New-Wales, because it was so hilly, but the king insisted on calling it Penn’s Sylvania, in memory of the admiral, William’s father. But when the new city came to be named, Penn having no one to dispute his wish, called it by that word, of whose meaning we think so little, Philadelphia――brotherly love. Two months after this he met the Indians, it is said, under a great elm tree in the upper part of the city, in what we now call Kensington, and concluded that treaty which has been said to be the only treaty that was ever made without an oath, and that was never broken. Shortly after this Penn proceeded to lay out the city, and, as a distinguished English author has said, he must have taken the ancient Babylon for his model, for this was the first modern city that was laid out with the streets crossing each other at right angles.

The charter which Penn received from Charles the Second, King of England (the original of which is in the capital at Harrisburg, on three large sheets of parchment), makes him proprietary and governor, also holding his authority under the crown. He at once therefore set about making a code of laws as special statutes, which with the common law of England should be the laws of the province. One of these special laws was this: “Every one, rich or poor, was to learn a useful trade or occupation; the poor to live on it: the rich to resort to it if they should become poor.” And I do not know what better law he could have enacted.

When the news of Penn’s arrival and cordial reception reached England and the continent of Europe, the effect was to arouse a spirit of emigration. Although Penn’s first thought and purpose was to found a colony, where he and others who held the religious views of the Society of Friends might worship without hindrance (which liberty was denied them in England), the people from other countries in Europe came here in great numbers for other purposes. The population therefore multiplied rapidly, and the people were generally such as had determined to brave the privations of a new country, to make themselves a home where life could be lived under better conditions than in the old countries, under the harsh government of tyrannical kings. This emigration was stimulated also by the very liberal terms which the governor offered to new-comers; for to actual settlers he offered the land at about ten dollars for a hundred acres, subject, however, to a quit-rent of a quarter of a dollar an acre per annum forever; and this may be the origin of that ground-rent instrument which is almost peculiar to Pennsylvania, and which is such a favorite investment for our rich men.

After a stay of two years Penn returned to England, where he had left his wife and children; the care of the government having been left with a council, of which Thomas Lloyd was president, who kept the great seal.

Not long after his return to England the king, Charles the Second, died, and having no son he was succeeded by his brother, James Duke of York, as James the Second. Although Penn was on the most cordial terms with the new king, as he had been with Charles, this did not secure him from the repeated annoyances and persecutions of those who detested his religion. So severe was the treatment to which he was subjected, and such was his personal danger from unprincipled men, that he escaped to France. But not being able nor willing to bear this exile, he returned to England, was tried for his offence against the law of the church and was acquitted. After this he came to America again, intending to spend the rest of his life here, but he remained only two years.

The rest of his life was spent in England, but it was a life broken by persecutions and trials at law and other annoyances, the expenses of which, added to the losses by the unfaithfulness of his stewards, were so great as seriously to involve him in financial embarrassments; and he was even compelled to mortgage his great estate in Pennsylvania to relieve himself; but the interest annually payable on such encumbrance was so heavy that he felt the necessity of relieving himself of the property entirely, and he offered to sell it to the crown. While the matter was under consideration, his health began to decline; however, the terms were agreed upon, but while the papers were in the course of preparation he died peacefully at Rushcombe, in Buckinghamshire, July 30, 1718, and was buried five days after in the burial ground belonging to Jordan’s meeting house.

Such is the briefest outline of the life of the founder of this commonwealth of Pennsylvania, and of this city of Philadelphia.

Let us see now what there was in this life which we may find it interesting to recall and dwell upon; what there was in it which may be useful for us to consider in its application to ourselves.

William Penn was born in the city of London on the 14th of October, 1644, in the parish of St. Catharine’s, near the Tower. His father was an admiral and his grandfather was a captain in the English navy. Then, as now, it was the custom of English families of good condition to send their boys away from home to school. This boy, an only son, was therefore sent to school near the town of Wanstead, in Essex, called Chigwell. Here he remained until he was thirteen years old, with no incident particularly worthy of notice, except that he was, at the age of twelve, brought under deep religious impressions, which, however, like many other boys, he soon threw aside. He seems to have been apt to learn, and was fond of the childish sports belonging to his age. For two years after leaving school, he was under private instruction at home, until he was fifteen years old, when he entered the University of Oxford. Here he devoted himself most diligently to his studies and became a successful student. But this did not prevent him from entering most heartily into the sports which were common to young men of his quality. He was very fond of boating, fishing, shooting, and other pleasures, and he was extremely handsome; but he avoided dissipation of all kinds, thus proving that the keenest enjoyment of healthful sports is quite consistent with a pure life. If the college students of this day would believe and act upon this principle, it would be better for them and better for the world.

With this hearty enjoyment of sports, and this diligent application to study, he had a very tender sympathy and love for domestic animals. Towards those that were the most helpless, he evinced a kindliness that was almost womanly.

But he had a strong will, and it was impossible to turn him aside from a course of duty, when he was satisfied that it was real duty. During his school and college life there were many seasons of religious interest in his experience, and he was at last brought (under the preaching of a member of the Society of Friends named Thomas Loe) to declare himself a member of that society. He therefore refused to attend the services of the Church of England. The custom of wearing surplices by Oxford students, which had been abolished in Cromwell’s time, had been restored by Charles; but Penn, when he came out as a religious man, threw off his surplice and refused to wear it. This act was bad enough in the eyes of the authorities; but his zeal went further than this, and, in common with some others of the same way of thinking, he so far forgot himself as to attack other students and tear off their surplices. This very grave offence could not be overlooked, and, admiral’s son though he was, he was expelled from the University of Oxford. This was a great blow to his father, who was building the fondest hopes on the advancement of his son at college and his career as a courtier. No persuasion, however, could induce the son to reconsider his conduct, and his father at last flogged him and drove him from the house. Some time after this, through the intercession of the mother, the young man was brought back to his home; and his father, in the hope that a change of scene and circumstances would work a change in the lad’s feelings, sent him to Paris, and to travel on the continent.

While in Paris he studied the French language, and read some books in theology, and went as far as Turin, in Italy, from whence, however, he was recalled to take charge of a part of his father’s affairs. He then studied law for a year, which no doubt was of some help to him in the founding of his commonwealth. Then his father sent him to take care of his estates in Ireland, at that time under the vice-royalty of the Duke of Ormond. He entered the army here, and did good service too; and was, apparently, so much pleased with his new life that he suffered the only portrait of him that was ever painted, to be taken when he was wearing armor and in uniform. This picture, or a copy of it, may now be seen at the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, in Spruce street, above Eighth.

About this time he came again under the influence of the preacher Loe, and was recalled by his father, who remonstrated with him on his new mode of life, but with no success whatever. He would not give up his new religion. His father tried to compromise the matter with him, and he even went so far as to propose to his son, that if he would remove his hat in the presence of the king and the Duke of York and his father, as his superiors, their differences might be healed; but the son, believing that the removal of his hat would be dishonorable to God, absolutely refused.

His life for some time after this was stormy enough. He came out boldly and in defiance of law as a preacher of the Society of Friends; and was repeatedly imprisoned, sometimes in the Tower of London and sometimes in the loathsome prison of Newgate, from which places he was released by the intercession of the Duke of York and his father and other friends.

Those were very rough times, not likely, let us hope, to be repeated. Society was very corrupt at the highest sources, and religion was more violent and aggressive in its measures then than now. The world has grown wiser and better――there is more toleration, more of the Spirit of the Master now than then, and in our favored land every soul can worship God as he may choose to do.

William Penn was a _statesman_. He founded this great commonwealth of Pennsylvania. He established a code of laws that were in advance of his time. He stipulated that the law of primogeniture, that law which gives the lands of the father to the _oldest_ son, with little or no provision for younger sons, that law which is the corner-stone of the crown of England, should have no place in this new commonwealth. The property of a parent dying without a will should be _equally divided among his children_. Penn was a statesman in the broadest sense of the term. His laws were for the greatest good of the greatest number. He treated the Indians as if they were human beings, and not as if they were brute beasts. Indeed, he never treated the brutes as the Indians have been treated even in our day by harsh and unscrupulous agents of the government. Whether he was exactly just in his dealings with Lord Baltimore, the settler of Maryland, I do not know. Perhaps he was not. We know this misunderstanding gave him great trouble, and was indeed the prime cause of his return to England.

Penn was a _rich man_. The inheritance left him by his father was handsome, and he could have lived most comfortably upon it. But when he received from the crown the charter which made him the owner of Pennsylvania, he was the largest landholder, except sovereigns, known in history. He did not use his wealth for personal indulgence, or for luxurious living for himself or his family. He believed that he held his property as a trustee, and that he had no right to waste it. He might have lived the life of an ordinary English nobleman (for it is said his father was offered a peerage), but such a life had no charms for him.

Penn was a _conscientious man_. I mean by this that he followed his inner convictions, without regard to consequences. What he wanted to know was, whether a given thing was _right_ and according to his way of determining what the right was; and he did it if it were a duty, without flinching. No personal inconvenience, no consideration for the views or wishes of other people, was allowed to stand in the way of his duty, as he understood it. It was the custom of that time for gentlemen to wear swords, as some gentlemen now carry canes, and with no purpose except as an ornament or part of the dress. Some time after he joined the Society of Friends, and while still wearing his sword, he said to his friend George Fox, “Is it consistent with our principles and our testimonies against war for me to wear my sword?” When Fox replied, “Wear thy sword as usual, so long as thy conscience will permit it.” This friendly rebuke led him to lay aside his sword never to resume it.

William Penn was a _religious man_. He was called by the Holy Spirit at the early age of twelve years, as I have already said. He resisted that call and many others, until under faithful preaching he could resist no longer, when he yielded himself to the divine call and became an open professor of the principles of the Society of Friends. This was a very different thing, so far as personal comfort was concerned, from professing religion in the ordinary forms; for this was to join a hated sect, and bear all the contempt and persecution that belonged to a profession of religion in the early days of Christianity, when men, women and children perilled their lives in the service of the great Master. But Penn cared not for the cost; he was ready to go to prison, and to death if necessary, for his opinions. He _did_ go to prison over and over again, and bore right manfully all that was put upon him. He was not idle, however, in the prison. He preached to his fellow-prisoners; he wrote pamphlets; he did everything in his power to make known to others the good tidings of salvation that had come to him. He wrote a great many letters, and they were all full of the spirit of religion. He wrote treatises on religious truth, that might have been written by a systematic theologian; but among the most practical things he wrote was the address to his children, that it would be well if all people would read, and which, with a few exceptions, is as appropriate for the people of to-day as it was for those who lived two hundred years ago.

If Penn had not been a religious man, his life had not been worth recording. He would have lived the life that was lived by almost all men of his class at that time, a life of unrestrained worldliness and luxury. The Almighty, who had great purposes in store for the New World, to be wrought out by the instrumentality of man, could have chosen another man, but he chose Penn.

Such is the story of the life of a man who was one of the world’s heroes. His name will never die. There is a large literature on the subject of his life, some of which you will find in your own library, if you choose to look further into it. This is all that I feel it proper to say to you to-day about it.

Boys, it is a great thing to have been born in Pennsylvania, as all of you were. And this could hardly be said of any other congregation in this city to-day. This is a great commonwealth. As to its size, it is (leaving out Wales) nearly as large as the whole of England. As to great rivers and mountains and mines and metals, as to forests and fields, we are far in advance of anything of the kind in England. No valleys on earth are more beautiful or more productive than the valleys of our own Pennsylvania.

It is a great thing, boys, to have been born in the city of Philadelphia, as most of you were. It was founded by a great and good man. There are, in the civilized world, but three cities that are larger than ours. There is no city, except London, that has so many dwelling-houses, and there is none anywhere in all the world where the poor man who works for his living can live so happily and so well.

In this State, in this city, your lot is cast. You will soon many of you take your place among the citizens, and have your share in choosing the men who make and execute the laws. Some of you _will be_ the men who make and execute the laws. William Penn founded this commonwealth, not only to provide a peaceable home for the persecuted members of his own society, but to afford an asylum for the good and oppressed of every nation; and he founded an empire where the pure and peaceable principles of Christianity might be carried out in practice. When you come to take your part in the duties of public life, see to it that you forget not his wise and noble purpose.

OUR CONSTITUTION.

October, 1887.

I am about to do what I have never done――what has probably never been done by any other person in this chapel. I propose to give you a political speech, but not a partisan speech; indeed, I hardly think you will be able to guess, from anything I say, to which of the two great political parties I belong.

I do not go to the Bible for a text――though there are many passages in the holy Scriptures which would answer my purpose very well――but I take for my text the following passage from the will of Mr. Girard:

“AND ESPECIALLY I DESIRE THAT BY EVERY PROPER MEANS, A PURE ATTACHMENT TO OUR REPUBLICAN INSTITUTIONS, AND TO THE SACRED RIGHTS OF CONSCIENCE AS GUARANTEED BY OUR HAPPY CONSTITUTIONS, SHALL BE FORMED AND FOSTERED IN THE MINDS OF THE SCHOLARS.”

A few weeks ago our city was filled to overflowing with strangers. They came from all parts of the land, and some from distant parts of the world. Our railways and steamboats were crowded to their utmost capacity. Our streets were thronged; our hotels and many private dwellings were full. It was said that there were half a million of strangers here. The President of the United States, the members of the Cabinet, many members of the national Senate and House of Representatives, the general of the army and many other generals, the highest navy officers, judges of the Supreme Court of the United States and of the State courts, the governors of most of the States――each with his staff――soldiers and sailors of the United States, and many regiments of State troops (the Girard College cadets among them)――a military and naval display of twenty-five thousand men――representatives of foreign states, an exhibition of the industrial and mechanic arts, in a procession miles in extent, such as was never seen in all the world before; receptions and banquets, public and private; a general suspension of most kinds of business――all this occurred in the streets of our city, only a few weeks ago. What did it mean?

It was the One Hundredth Anniversary of the adoption of the Constitution of the United States, and it was considered to be an event of such importance that it was well worth while to pause in our daily work; to give holiday to our schools; to still the busy hum of industry; to stop the wheels of commerce; to close our places of business.

One hundred years ago the Constitution of the United States of America was adopted in this city.

What had been our government before this time? Up to July, 1776, there had been thirteen colonies, all under the government of Great Britain. In the lapse of time, the people of these colonies, owing allegiance to the king of England, and subjected to certain taxes which they had no voice in considering and imposing, because they had no representation in the Parliament which laid the taxes, became discontented and rebellious, and in a convention which sat in our own city of Philadelphia, on the 4th of July, 1776, they united in a DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE of Great Britain, and announced the thirteen colonies as Free, Sovereign and Independent States.

This, however, was only a DECLARATION; and it took seven long years of exhausting and terrible war (which would have been longer still but for the timely aid of the French nation) to secure that independence and have it acknowledged by the governments of Europe.

Before the DECLARATION, each of the colonies had a State government and a written constitution for the regulation of its internal affairs. Now these colonies had become States, with the necessity upon them (not at first admitted by all) of a general compact or agreement, by which the States, while maintaining their independence in many things, should become a confederated or general government.

More than a year passed before the Constitution, which the Convention agreed upon, was adopted by a sufficient number of the States to make it binding on all the thirteen; and I am glad to know and to say that my own little State of Delaware was the first to adopt it.

Now, WHAT IS THE CONSTITUTION? How does it differ from the _laws_ which the Congress enacts every winter in Washington?

First, let me speak of other nations. There are two kinds of government in the world――monarchical and republican. And there are two kinds of monarchies――absolute and limited. An absolute monarch, whether he be called emperor or king, rules by his personal will――HIS WILL IS THE LAW. One of the most perfect illustrations of absolute or personal government is seen on board any ship, where the will of the chief officer, whether admiral or captain, or whatever his rank, is, and must be, the law. From his orders, his decisions, there is no appeal until the ship reaches the shore, when he himself comes under the law. This is a very ancient form of government, now known in very few countries calling themselves civilized.

The other kind of monarchy is limited by a constitution, _un_written, as in Great Britain, or _written_, as in some other nations of Europe. In these countries the sovereigns are under a constitution; in some instances with hardly as much power as our President. They are not a law unto themselves, but are under the common law.

The other kind of government is republican, democratic or representative. It is, as was happily said on the field of Gettysburg, long after the battle, by President Lincoln, “a government _of_ the people, _by_ the people, _for_ the people.” These few plain words are well worth remembering――“of,” “by,” “for” the people. These are the traits which distinguish our government from all kinds of monarchies, whether absolute or limited, hereditary or elective.

After the war between Germany and France, in 1870, the German kingdoms of Prussia, Hanover, Saxony, Wurtemberg, Bavaria, with certain small principalities, each with its hereditary sovereign, were consolidated or confederated as the German empire, and the king of Prussia, the present Frederick William, was crowned emperor of Germany.

France, however, after that war, having had enough of kings and emperors, adopted the republican form of government. So that now there are three republics in Europe, viz.: France, Switzerland, and a little territory on the east coast of Italy, San Marino.

So that almost all of Europe, all of Asia, and all of Africa (except Liberia), and the islands of Australia, and the northern part of North America (except Alaska), are under the government of monarchs; while the three countries of Europe already mentioned, and our own country, and Mexico, and the Central American States, and all South America except Brazil (and some small parts of the coast of South America under British rule), are republics.[B]

[B] One of our most distinguished citizens said some years ago that he believed the tendency of things was towards the English language, the Christian religion, and republican government for the human race.

Now let us come back to our own government and see what is, and whether it is better than any form of monarchy; and if so, why.

What is the CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES? The first clause in it is the best answer I can give:

“WE, THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquillity, provide for the common defence, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.”

Then follow the articles and sections setting forth the principles on which it was proposed to build up a nation in this western world. The thirteen States each had its constitution and its laws, but _this instrument_ was intended to serve as the foundation of the general government. Until these States had formed their constitutions, there was no republican government in the world except Switzerland and San Marino, and these lived only on the sufferance of their powerful monarchical neighbors. All South America was under Spanish rule, and Mexico was a monarchy.