Advice to young men and boys A series of addresses delivered by B. B. Comegys to the pupils of Girard College — Story, Setting & Ideas
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Be a regular attendant at some church. I do not say what church it shall be. That must be left to yourselves to determine, and many circumstances will arise to aid you in your choice. But let it be some church, and, when you become more interested in the subject than you are now, join that church, whatever it may be, and so connect yourselves with people who believe in and love God. If there be a Bible class there, connect yourselves with it, and so learn to study the Scriptures systematically.
Do not be ashamed to kneel at your bedside every night and every morning and pray to God. You are not so likely to be ashamed if you have a room to yourself; but you must not be ashamed to do this even if there are others in the room with you, as will be the case with many of you. This is a severe test, I know, but he who bears it faithfully will already have gained a victory.
Commit to memory the fifteenth verse of the twelfth chapter of the Gospel according to St. Luke: “Take heed and beware of covetousness, for a man’s life consisteth not in the abundance of the things he possesseth.”
On last Monday, Founder’s Day, there were gathered here many men, a great company, who were trained in this college, and who, after graduation, went out into the world to seek their fortune. It is always a most interesting time, not only for them but for the teachers and officers who have had charge of them.
Some of them are successful men in the highest and best sense, and have made themselves a name and a place in the world. Bright young lawyers, clerks, mechanics, railroad men――men representing almost all kinds of business and occupations――came here in great numbers to celebrate the anniversary of the birth of the Founder of this great school. It was a grand sight. Hardly anything impresses me more. I do not know their names; for many of them had left before I began to come here; but from certain expressions that fell from the lips of some of them I am persuaded that they, at least, are walking in the truth.
It would be very interesting if we could know their thoughts, and see with what feelings they look back on their school-life. I wonder if any of them regret that they did not make a better use of their time while here. I wonder if any feel that they would like to become boys again and go to school over again, being sure that, with their present experience of life, they would set a higher value on the education of the schools. I wonder if any feel that they would have reached higher positions and secured a larger influence if they had been more diligent at school. I wonder if there are any who can trace evil habits of thought to the companions they had here. I wonder if any are aware of evil impressions which they made on their classmates and so cast a stain and a dark shadow on other young lives, stains never obliterated, shadows never wholly lifted. I wonder if there are any among them who regret that the opportunity of seeking God and finding God in their school-days was neglected, and who have never had so favorable an opportunity since. “If some who come back here on these commemoration days were to tell you all their thoughts on such subjects, they would be eloquent with a peculiar eloquence.”
I wish I could persuade you, especially you larger boys, to give most earnest attention to the duties which lie before you every day. You will not misunderstand me, nor be so unjust to me as to suppose that I would interfere in the least degree with the pleasures which belong to your time of life. I would not lessen them in the least; on the contrary, I would encourage you, and help you in all proper recreation, in all sports and plays. The boy who does not enjoy play is not a happy boy, and is not very likely to make a happy man, or a useful man. But it is quite possible, as some of you know, to enjoy in the highest degree all healthful sports, and at the same time to be industrious and conscientious in your studies. I am deeply concerned that the boys in this college shall be boys of the best, the highest type; that they “shall walk in the truth.” There are, alas, many boys who have gone through this college, and fully equipped (as well as their teachers could equip them), have been launched out into life and come to naught. I do not know their names nor do you, probably, though you do not doubt the fact.
Whatever others say, who speak to you here, I want to discharge my duty to you as faithfully as I can. I know some of the difficulties of life, for they have been in my path. I know some of the fierce temptations to which boys and young men are exposed, for I have felt these assaults in my own person. I know what it is to sin against God, for I am a sinner; so, with my sympathies quick towards you, I come with these plain, earnest words, and I urge you to look up to God, and ask him to help you. He can help you, and he will, if you ask him.
LIFE――ITS OPPORTUNITIES AND TEMPTATIONS.
I propose to speak to you now of some plain and practical duties which await you in life; and, as there are many boys here who are anxiously looking for the time when they will leave the college to make their way in the world, some of whom will probably have left the college before I come again, I speak more especially to them. And my first words are words of congratulation, and for these reasons:
1. _Because you are young._ And this means very much. You have an enormous advantage over people that are your seniors. Other things being equal, you will live longer, and I assume that “life is worth living.” Then you have the advantage of profiting by the mistakes committed by those who precede you, and if you are not blind, you can avail yourselves of the successes they have achieved.
You have the freshness, the zest of youth. You are full of courage and endurance. You can grapple with difficult subjects and with a strong hand. And if you blunder, you have time to recover yourselves and start anew. In short, life is before you, and you look forward with the inspiration of hope, and it may be, also, of determination.
2. I congratulate you also _because you are poor_. You have your own way to make in the world. You know already that if you achieve success, it must be because you exert yourselves to the very utmost. Indeed, you must depend upon yourselves, and this means that you must do everything in your power that is right to do, to help yourselves.
You must understand that there is no royal road to _success_, any more than there is to _learning_, and that there is no time to trifle. If you were rich men’s sons, these remarks would have no special pertinence, or importance.
My congratulations are quite in order also because very many, if not _most_ of the high places in our country, are held by those who once were poor lads.
Should you turn upon me and say, “Why, then, if one is to be congratulated on his poverty, do fathers toil early and late, denying themselves needed recreation, not ceasing when they have accumulated a good estate, almost selling their souls to become millionaires――why do they so much dread to leave their sons to struggle for a living?” More than one answer might be given to these questions. Some fathers have so little faith in God’s providence that they forget his goodness, which _now_ takes care of their families through the instrumentality of parents; and who can continue that care through other means, just as well, when the parents are gone; but high authority says that “they who will be rich, fall into temptations and snares,” one of which is that the race for riches unfits the racer for all other pursuits and amusements, and he can’t stop his course, he can’t change his habits, he has no other mental resources――he must work or perish.
Do not, then, let the fact that you are _poor_ discourage you in the least――it is rather an advantage.
3. But again I congratulate you, because _your lot is cast in America_. Do not smile at this. I am not on the point of flying the American eagle, nor of raising the stars and stripes. It _is_, however, a good thing to have been born in this country. For in all important respects it is the most favored of all lands. It is the fashion with certain people to disparage our government and its institutions; and one must admit that in some particulars there might be improvement, and will be some day; but, notwithstanding these defects, it is unquestionably true that it is the best government on earth. Is there any country where a poor young man has opportunities as good as he has here, to get on in life? Is there any obstacle or hindrance whatever, outside of himself, in the way of his success? If a young man has good health of mind and body, and a fair English education and good manners, and will be honest and industrious, is he not much more certain to attain success, in one way or another, in this country than anywhere else? You know he is. Why? Because of our equal rights under the law. There is no caste here, that curse of monarchies. There is no aristocracy in sentiment or in power, no House of Lords, no established church, no law of primogeniture. One man is as good as another under the law as long as he behaves himself.
If you want further evidence, only look for a moment at the condition of the seething, surging masses of Europe, and the continual apprehensions of a general war. Before this year 1885 has run its course the United States may be almost the only country among the great powers that is not involved in war.
And if still further illustration were needed, let me point to that most extraordinary scene enacted in Washington some weeks ago.
A great political party, which has held control of this government nearly a quarter of a century, and which has exercised almost unlimited power, yields most quietly and gracefully all high places, all dignity, all honor and patronage, to the will of the people who have chosen a new administration. And everybody regards it as a matter of course.
Was such a thing ever known before? And could such a thing occur anywhere else among the nations?
Once more, I congratulate you _because you live in Philadelphia_. Ah, now we come to a most interesting point. Most of you were born here, and you come to this by inheritance. This is the best of all large cities. More to be desired as a place to live in than Washington, the seat of government, the most beautiful of all American cities, or New York, with its vast commerce and enormous wealth, or Boston, with its boasted intellectual society.
They may call us the “_Quaker City_,” or the “_worst paved city_,” or the “_slow city_,” or the “city of rows of houses exactly alike;” but these houses are the homes of separate families, and in a very large degree are occupied by their owners, and you cannot say as much of any other city in the world. Although there are doubtless many instances in the oldest part of the city, and among the improvident poor, where more than one family will be found in the same house, yet these are the exceptions and not the rule; and so far as I know there is not one “tenement house” in this great city that was built for the purpose of accommodating several families at the same time. I need not point you to New York and Boston, where the great apartment houses, with their twelve and fourteen stories of flats for rich and well-to-do people prevail, utterly destroying that most cherished domestic life of which we have been so proud, and introducing the life of European cities, with its demoralizing associations and results; nor shall I describe the awful tenement houses in those two cities, where the poor are crowded like animals in a cattle-train, suffering as the poor dumb creatures do, for want of air, and water, and space, and everything else that makes life desirable.
Of all cities on the face of the earth, Philadelphia is the most desirable for the young man who must make his own way in the world....
And having shown you how favorable are the conditions which are about you, the next point is, What will you do when you set out for yourselves?
All of you are _expecting_ when you leave school to be employed by somebody, or engaged in some business. And I suppose you may be looking to me to give you some hints how to take care of yourselves, or how to behave in such relations.
I will try to do so plainly and faithfully.
I cannot absolutely promise you success. Indeed, it would be necessary first to define the word. And there are several definitions that might be given. One of the shortest and best would be in these words, “A life well spent.” That’s success. And this definition shall be my model.
Work hard, then, at your lessons. Let your ambition be, not to get through quickly, not to go over much ground in text-books, but to master thoroughly everything before you. If you knew how little thorough instruction there is, you would thank me for this. There are so many half-educated people from schools and colleges that one cannot help believing that the terms of graduation are very easy. There have been, and are now, graduates of colleges who cannot add up a long column of figures correctly, nor do an example in simple proportion, nor write a letter of four pages of note paper without mistakes of grammar and spelling and punctuation, to say nothing of perspicuity and unity and general good taste.
It is quite surprising to find how helpless some young men are in the simple matter of writing letters; an art with which, in these days of cheap postage and cheap stationery, almost everybody has something to do. If you doubt this let me ask you to try to-morrow to write a note of twenty lines on any subject whatever, off-hand, and submit it for criticism to your teacher. Do you wonder, then, that an employer calling one of his young men, and directing him to write a letter to one of his correspondents, saying such and such things, and bring it to him for his signature, is surprised and grieved to see that the letter is in such shape that he cannot sign it and let it go out of his office?
It is very true that letter-writing is not the chief business of life, not the only thing of importance in a counting-house, but it is an elegant accomplishment, and most desirable of attainment.
Let me say some words about shorthand writing. In this day of push and drive and hurry, when so many things must be done at once, there is an increasing demand for shorthand writers. In fact, business as now conducted cannot afford to do without this help. It often occurs that a principal in a business house cannot take the time to write long letters. Why should he? It does not pay to have one that is occupied in governing and controlling great interests, or in the receipt of a large salary, tied to a desk writing letters, or reports, or statements of any kind. He must _talk off_ these things; and he must be an educated man, whose mind is so disciplined to terse and accurate expression that his dictation may almost be taken to be final. He wants a clerk who can take down his words with literal accuracy, and who will be able to correct any errors that may have been spoken, and submit the complete paper to his chief for his signature. The demand for this kind of service is increasing every day, and some of you now listening to me will be so employed. See that you are ready for it when your opportunity comes.
If you get to be a clerk in a railroad office, or in an insurance company, or in a store, or in a bank, devote yourself to your particular duties, whatever they may be. And don’t be too particular as to what kind of work it is that falls to your lot. It may be work that you think belongs to the porter; no matter if it is, do it, and do it as well as the porter can, or even better.
Let none of you, therefore, think that anything you are likely to be called upon to do is beneath you. Do it, and do it in the best manner, and you may not have to do it for a long time.
Make yourself indispensable to your employer. You can do that; it is quite within your power, and it may be that you may get to be an employer yourself; indeed it is more than probable; but you must work for it.
If you get to be a book-keeper in any counting-house or public institution, remember that you are in a position of trust and responsibility. When you make errors do not erase the error; draw faint red or black lines through it and write correct characters over the error. Do not hide your errors of any kind. Do not misstate anything in language or figures. Everybody makes errors at some time or other, but everybody does not admit and apologize for them. The honest man is he who _does_ admit and apologize, and does so without waiting to be detected.
There have been of late some deplorable instances of betrayal of trust in our city. I may as well call it by its right name, stealing. The culprits are now suffering in prison the penalty for their crimes. While I am speaking to you there are men, young and _not_ young, in our city who are _now_ stealing, and who are falsifying their books in the vain hope that it may be kept secret; who are dreading the day when they will be caught; who cannot afford to take a holiday; who cannot afford to be sick, lest absence for a single day may disclose their guilt. What a horrible state of mind! They will go to their desks or their offices to-morrow morning, not knowing but it may be their last day in that place.
And the day will come, most surely, when _you_ will be tempted as these wretched ones have been tempted. In what shape the temptation may come, or when, no human being knows. The suggestion will be made, that by the use of a little money you may make a good deal; that the venture is perfectly safe; some one tells you so, and points to this one or that one who has tried it and made money. It is only a little thing; you can’t lose much; you _may_ make enough to pay for the cost of your summer holiday, or for your cigar bill, or your beer bill; or you will be able to smoke better cigars or drink better beer, or buy a gold watch, or a diamond ring, or anything else; _you can’t lose much_. You have no money of your own, it is true, but what is needed will not be missed if you take it out of the drawer. Shall you do it? No! Let nothing induce you to take the first dollar not your own. It is the _first_ step that counts.
The addresses in this volume, delivered by B. B. Comegys to the pupils of Girard College between 1882 and 1889, are marked by a direct, paternal voice that shifts between moral exhortation and biographical sketch. Comegys, a member of the Board of City Trusts, draws on the lives of Stephen Girard, William Penn, and others to illustrate virtues like industry and truthfulness. The language is plain and earnest, often repeating key phrases—a technique Comegys defends by citing the Hebrew proverb “Line upon line—precept upon precept.”
The excerpts reveal a speaker who moves from calm instruction to urgent warning, as when he describes the consequences of bad associations. The addresses are not systematic treatises but occasional pieces, each responding to a specific event or need in the life of the school.
The Paternal Voice and Its Repetitions
Comegys adopts the tone of a concerned elder, addressing his listeners as “boys” and “young men” with a mixture of affection and authority. In the preface, he acknowledges “some repetitions of thought and language,” attributing them to the span of time between addresses and the pedagogical principle of repetition. This is evident in the excerpts: phrases like “duty” and “course of duty” recur, and the moral lessons are reinforced through parallel structures. The voice is consistent—earnest, sometimes stern, but never condescending. Comegys positions himself as a guide, not a lecturer, often using the first-person plural (“we”) to include himself in the moral struggle.
Biographical Interludes as Moral Lessons
Several addresses are built around the lives of historical figures, using their experiences to illustrate virtues. The sketch of William Penn, for instance, emphasizes his refusal to remove his hat before superiors, framing it as a stand for religious principle. Comegys narrates Penn’s expulsion from Oxford, his imprisonment, and his eventual founding of Pennsylvania, drawing a direct line from personal integrity to public achievement. Similarly, the introductory address on Stephen Girard highlights his “hearty enjoyment of sports” and “tender sympathy for domestic animals” alongside his strong will. These biographical passages are not digressions; they serve as extended examples of the moral qualities Comegys wants to instill.
Shifts in Pace and Rhetorical Register
The addresses vary in pace, moving from calm exposition to urgent appeal. In the excerpt on William Penn, the narrative is brisk, recounting events in quick succession: “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.” Elsewhere, Comegys slows to reflect on broader social changes, as when he notes that “the world has grown wiser and better—there is more toleration.” These shifts in tempo mirror the alternating roles of the speaker: historian, moralist, and counselor. The rhetorical register remains formal but conversational, with occasional direct addresses to the audience.
Readers should approach this collection as a series of spoken performances, each shaped by its occasion and audience. The addresses reward attention to how Comegys adapts his material—whether biographical anecdote or moral precept—to the needs of young listeners. The repetitions, far from being flaws, are deliberate tools of instruction. For those interested in late 19th-century educational rhetoric or the institutional culture of Girard College, these pages offer a vivid primary source.
There’s something steadying about Comegys addressing those boys, as if his words still hang in that old hall. I found myself thinking about how much craft goes into sincerity. Somewhere nearby, How to Fail in Literature: A Lecture — Context and Discussion touches the same quiet worry—that effort alone might miss the mark, and yet we try anyway.
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