A

THE POOR BOY'S CHANCE

In which the Door is
opened for a Farmer's Son

MAN was wanted. The children of Israel were opprest, and there was none to deliver them. The Midianites made frequent incursions, destroying their homes and devastating their fields. Where was the man to lead against the foe? He was found, with a flail in hand, thrashing wheat behind a wine-press in Ophrah. But, being only a youth and of humble station, he was loath to answer the call. His plea was, "Behold, my family is the poorest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my father's house." The Lord's answer was brief and summary, "Surely, I will be with thee!" Enough! What more could be wanted? So ever comes the divine call.

A letter was recently received by William J. Bryan, asking, "What chance has a poor boy; and how can brains win in a contest with money in these days?" to which he replied: "The poor boy has no chance unless he can arouse the people by using his tongue. The corporate powers are busy misleading the people; and they are responsible for shutting out the poor boy."

Is this true? I believe it is as far as possible from the truth; and such statements are greatly to be deprecated, since they create a feeling of morbid discontent and foster class hatred. What we want in these troublous times is not more irritation, but more am

bition; not more anarchy, but more industry; not more bombs, but more business.

By "the corporate powers," I suppose, is meant the combinations of capital. It is true that capitalized combines and syndicates tend to drive the smaller factor and tradesman to the wall. It is true, also, that the labor-unions, by insisting on the closed shop, are guilty of an immeasurable wrong in robbing the independent workman of the inherent and inalienable right to earn his living by the sweat of his brow. Both of these tyrannies are offensive to our common sense of justice and to the instinct of "the square deal"; and they are greatly to be deplored as militating against both human and divine law.

It is true, nevertheless, that there never was a time in human history when the poor boy had so good a chance in making his way in the world as in these days.

But what is meant by "the poor boy"? The son of humble parents, born in a cottage with poverty as his only handicap? Not he! The poorest of all poor boys is the rich man's son. For if ever the whirligig of time goes round and leaves this youth, who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, to the necessity of earning a livelihood, he is likely to be at his wit's end.

The rich man's son inherits lands,

And piles of brick, and stone, and gold;

And he inherits soft white hands

And tender flesh that fears the cold;

Nor dare he wear a garment old:

A heritage, it seems to me,

One scarce would wish to hold in fee.

The rich man's son inherits cares;

The bank may break, the factory burn;
A breath may burst his bubble shares.
Then soft white hands could hardly earn
A living that would serve his turn.

What doth the poor man's son inherit?
Stout muscles and a sinewy heart,

A hardy frame, a hardier spirit;

King of two hands, he does his part
In every useful toil and art:

A heritage, it seems to me,

A king might wish to hold in fee!

No, no; the only really "poor boy" is the one who has a poor spirit; who whines and whimpers, rebels against his fate, goes about asking for a "pull" instead of putting up his individual "push," and who waits continually, like Micawber, for something to turn up, instead of turning up something for himself as every man who would succeed is bound to do.

A fond mother once went to Rowland Hill and asked him to examine her son for the ministry. She said, "He has talent, I am sure; but it seems to be wrapt in a napkin." He examined the boy as to his qualifications for the ministry and sent him back to his mother with a note, saying, "Dear Madam: I have shaken the napkin and can find nothing in it." It is such as he that have a meager chance of getting on in the world; but the boy, rich or poor, who has a substratum of energy, with right principles and a resolute purpose, will surely make his way.

But what does the poor boy want? Does he want

to succeed without effort? Then he will fail as he deserves. Does he bemoan his lack of equipment as compared with that of other youths? Let him pluck up spirit; for what equipment can any youth want more than two eyes, two ready feet, a quantum of gray matter up atop, a valorous heart in his bosom, and two hands and ten fingers for the business before him? With these it behooves him to make his way.

Would he earn a livelihood in an honest trade? So far so good! The Carpenter of Nazareth has made handicraft honorable forevermore in this world of ours. If it be said that the conditions of industry are such, in these times, that a youth finds it difficult to secure the training which makes a skilled artizan, this is admitted in so far as "the closed shop" has ended the apprentice system. But there are industrial schools on every side, where any ambitious youth can perfect himself in a trade without money and without price, if he wishes.

It is affirmed, in some quarters, that the labor market is overstocked. There is nothing in that. They say, "There are a hundred thousand unemployed workmen in this town." No doubt there are some among these who have lost their positions by force of circumstances; but such can not long be kept idle; they can be trusted to find a place and fill it. In fact, however, the vast majority of the chronically unemployed are mere idlers and hangers-on. The benches in our public parks are lined with such men. They do not purpose to work.

They believe "the world owes them a living," and they prefer the beggarly way of exacting it.