THE modern captain of industry has achieved another triumph in undertaking to make cities to order. The creation of a city in the ancient world involved the problem of conquering and defending a pivotal site; the location and development of a metropolis in the days of our revolutionary forefathers was the combination of possibilities and circumstances; but the past fifteen years have been signalized by the making of cities to order either to gratify the pride of an autocrat, or to meet the necessities of modern business.
GENIUS is a great gift. Its possessor should not be proud, but grateful. To be arrogant over an attractive face, a splendid figure, a rugged constitution or genius reveals weakness rather than strength. The majority of people, who use a natural talent wisely and well, are thankful for such a special endowment, particularly if it manifests itself early in life, and they have the means of cultivating and developing it.
YOU ask me why a number of American advertisers who have been successful in their own country have not met with a corresponding degree of good fortune in England. I would point out that, as a matter of fact, there are a number of American businesses that are extremely prosperous.
ONE of the oldest and truest of the Gallic gibes at the English was that they "took their pleasures sadly.” Matamus caelum non animum ("We change our skies but not our temper”), and if old Froissart could comment on this hybrid Anglo-Saxon civilization of ours he would need to change only one word—we "take our pleasures strenuously,” What else could be expected of a nation, one dominant influence in the founding of which had for its motto, “Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do?”
The race as a whole, however it may seem to deny it, is journeying Godward; and every human being will sometime, somewhere, ultimately come into perfect harmony with his highest aspirations. His heart-hunger will be satisfied, his noblest longings will be realized.
"DINNER was served to their Majesties at nine o’clock,” reported the daily papers respecting His Majesty’s arrangements on His Majesty’s last official birthday in the year of grace 1908. So we may take it that nine o’clock is the last word as to the time of fashionable dining at the present moment.
ALL along the line in our educational system, from the primary grades to the university, there is an immense waste of human life, a discouraging defeat of human endeavor, a dreadful dropping out by the way. In the lower grades this dropping out is scarcely heeded, for the victims are so little and so many; but in the high school and the college the loss becomes noticeable, attracts attention, because of its increased ratio to the survivors, to the undefeated remnant.
Doing the lower when the higher is possible constitutes one of the greatest tragedies of human life. The squandering of money seems a wicked thing when we think of the good that might be done with it; but what about the wicked waste of ability, the deliberate throwing away of fifty, seventy-five, perhaps ninety per cent, of one’s success possibility just because he never trained himself to use it, to grasp it with such vigor and power that he can fling his life into his career with its maximum effectiveness?
The latest Canadian to be honored by the bestowal of a title by His Holiness Pope Pius X. is Rev. Father J. J. McCann, rector of St. Mary’s church, Toronto. Father McCann is also vicar-general of Toronto arch-diocese, the present bishop being the third who has appointed him as his administrator.
IN THESE peculiar days a clerk on a salary of thirty dollars a week may live in a palace much more splendid than most of the royal residences of Europe. He may have at hand all the luxuries and all the conveniences that twentieth century ingenuity has been able to devise, and have a thousand servants at his beck and call.
FROM time to time we are reminded by the moralist of the assiduous and anxious thought which must be given to the management of large fortunes. No part of this anxiety, save in exceptional conditions, arises out of a fear of the actual loss of bullion, specie, or plate; it originates rather in those subtler risks attending the fluctuations of stocks, the rising and falling of market prices, and the profitable or unprofitable investment of capital.
The life of the criminal is simply an unpoised life. If a person were perfectly poised, wrong-doing would be so repugnant that it would be unthinkable. It is the one-sided, the unpoised mind that goes wrong. It is just as normal for the balanced mind to choose the right, the good, as for the magnet to draw to itself whatever is kindred.
SURFEITED with sensations as New Yorkers are, the inhabitants of old Gotham had to admit their surprise when a Canadian Chinaman recently arrived in their midst, attended by several relatives and servants, and took possession of the luxurious state apartment at the Hotel Belmont.
A SALES MANAGER one day asked me this question, “What one thing above all others do you try to impress upon your men on the road?” The answer was easy. “I try to make them understand,” I said, “that ability to sell is not the only quality needed in a salesman.
THE development of the motorboat in America is very rapid. Starting with pleasure launches the great usefulness of the motor boat has become known and now larger and larger boats are being equipped. Fishing boats from Gloucester and Galveston, tugs at various ports, the great auxiliary schooner North-land and the excursion fishing boat Arion, running daily from New York City to the fishing banks out at sea, each of these boats having 500 horse-power Standard engines, are examples of commercial use.
THE faculty of accurate observation and of logical deduction from what is noticed may be in some persons innate, but it can be cultivated to a degree which seems almost incredible to townsmen. They seldom acquire it, or indeed try to do so, and yet to soldiers, who are now mostly town-bred, the power is useful on the battle-field, and is often invaluable to troops employed on outpost duties.
The man who solicits your advertisement, the salesman who has samples to exhibit, the life-insurance agent whose hair-trigger tongue pleads eloquently for your family, even the seductive canvasser who tries to inveigle you into buying a history of the world in twenty-five volumes, can be listened to for a courteous minute or two and politely dismissed without seriously clogging the wheels of business.
IT ISN’T often that a town like Kilo has a real journalist in its midst, and when it does have, it ought to be proud and thankful; but right at first Kilo was more dazed and startled than anything else. I should say that Kilo, when it acquired the real journalist, was like a nice, motherly old cow that had gone out into the back pasture with the best and mildest intentions in the world to have an ordinary, gentle, wobbly-legged calf, and then found, all of a sudden, that she had given birth to a wheelbarrow loaded with fireworks.
In the conduct of life, habits are of greater importance than maxims, because habit is a living maxim that has become flesh and instinct. To remodel one’s maxims means nothing. This is only to alter the title of the book. But to acquire new habits is everything, for it is to grasp the meaning of life which is only a tissue of habits.
HE WHO goes to Wall Street goes to buy an income or to speculate, and if he seeks a larger income than the minimum interest rate his income-purchase becomes in itself speculative. “I never speculate in Wall Street,” says a merchant, “I only buy outright for investment.”
CONFIDENCE is of cash value in advertising. The advertisement which wins the reader is the advertisement which convinces him of its dependability. Confidence is basic in all commercial transactions. Surely it is fundamental in advertising.
THE changing from train to steamer and from steamer back to train undoubtedly deters many people from undertaking a journey that, as regards mere mileage, is not the least bit formidable. Could one but stick to the same corner in the same carriage from start to finish, unworried and unhurried, Paris and London would know each other even better than they do.
Q. What is Meal Monday ? A. Meal Monday is the Monday on which the student gets his meals in peace. Q. What do the students do on Meal Monday ? A. Some of them go for walks, some of them work, some of them go up to the Union, some of them have other means of spending the day.
WHEN you and I were boys on the farm father kept his lead pencil behind the clock on the mantel, his flexible date book, in which were set down the births of the colts and the time of taking certain stock to pasture found a resting-place in the drawer in the table in the corner, and the only writing-paper in the house was that kept by sister, who maintained a truly remarkable correspondence.
THERE be all sorts and kinds of publicity promoters, but the theatrical press-agent occupies a unique position all his own. As a professional booster he stands unquestionably supreme. He is a real, unadulterated “Class A” article, and he pales all other seekers of free advertising into insipid insignificance.
DOCTOR, is there justification for all this to-do about adenoids?” “Undoubtedly there is, my son,” was the reply of the physician. After a pause, smoothing his white hair, he added, “I’m sorry to say so; that is, I’m sorry there is reason for saying so, but I am glad of the agitation concerning this matter, because it is high time that the public be aroused to the importance of correct breathing.
THE Orient Express from Constantinople puts you down at Adrianople somewhere between eleven and midnight. As you step from the footboard of the train-deluxe you leave Western comfort and ease behind you. You have reached an environment more Oriental than Constantinople itself, but even in the five years that have elapsed since the writer last visited the ancient capital of European Turkey, to some degree the influences of the West have forced themselves upon Adrianople.
"RIVERS are roads, and carry us along with them,” wrote Blaise Pascal. A great river is something more than a stream of water. People who live on its banks come to attribute to it, quite unconsciously, some mysterious god-like quality. We all feel something similar about the sea.
IN the last number of the Fort-nightly Review I ventured to discuss the quality of the Opposition in the House of Commons, and found it “feeble”—unable, with few exceptions, to take effective advantage of the opportunities so plentifully offered by the Government during the Autumn Session.
HALF the world is now talking about cheap telegraphy. In Great Britain, not content with his achievements in the lowering of postage rates, Mr. Henniker Heaton is agitating for a universal penny-a-word telegraph rate. In the United States where telegraph rates are higher than anywhere else in the world, the need for cheaper telegraphy has long been felt, but owing to the conditions under which the telegraph business has been carried on, the expense of line construction, maintenance and operation has been so enormous as to preclude the giving of lower rates by the existing companies.
AS a man I am interested to some extent in clothes—in fact I have to be, whether I want to or not. It is all right to affect disregard for the styles and conventionalities of life, but few persons care to be written down as freaks. Man may talk learnedly of being superior to his surroundings and so utterly oblivious to what is taking place that it matters not whether his trousers are too long, his vest too short or his coat too small.
Losses to Art—The Outlook (Apr. 17.) The Story of Dutch Painting. Charles H. Caffin—St. Nicholas. The Marvel of Color Photography—World's Work. The American Success of a Great Spanish Painter. Thomas R. Ybarra—World's Work. Mural Painting In Relation to Architecture.
THIS wrapper which is cylindrical in form is made of heavy pressed brown paper with self-sealing flaps. The best evidence of its superiority is the fact that there are over 1,000,000 sold each month. With this device coins may be wrapped in almost one half the time necessary with the flat or tin wrappers.