After closing with Mr. Morgan, I visited my native town, Dunfermline, and at that time made the town a gift of public baths.  It is notable largely because it was the first considerable gift I had ever made.  Long before that I had, at my Uncle Lauder’s suggestion, sent a subscription to the fund for the Wallace Monument on Stirling Heights overlooking Bannockburn.  It was not much, but I was then in the telegraph office and it was considerable out of a revenue of thirty dollars per month with family expenses staring us in the face.  Mother did not grudge it; on the contrary, she was a very proud woman that her son’s name was seen on the list of contributors, and her son felt he was really beginning to be something of a man.  Years afterward my mother and I visited Stirling, and there unveiled, in the Wallace Tower, a bust of Sir Walter Scott, which she had presented to the monument committee.  We had then made great progress, at least financially, since the early subscription.  But distribution had not yet begun.[30] So far with me it had been the age of accumulation.

[Footnote 30:  The ambitions of Mr. Carnegie at this time (1868) are set forth in the following memorandum made by him.  It has only recently come to light: 

St. Nicholas Hotel, New York, December, 1868

Thirty-three and an income of $50,000 per annum!  By this time two years I can so arrange all my business as to secure at least $50,000 per annum.  Beyond this never earn—­make no effort to increase fortune, but spend the surplus each year for benevolent purposes.  Cast aside business forever, except for others.

Settle in Oxford and get a thorough education, making the acquaintance of literary men—­this will take three years’ active work—­pay especial attention to speaking in public.  Settle then in London and purchase a controlling interest in some newspaper or live review and give the general management of it attention, taking a part in public matters, especially those connected with education and improvement of the poorer classes.

Man must have an idol—­the amassing of wealth is one of the worst species of idolatry—­no idol more debasing than the worship of money.  Whatever I engage in I must push inordinately; therefore should I be careful to choose that life which will be the most elevating in its character.  To continue much longer overwhelmed by business cares and with most of my thoughts wholly upon the way to make more money in the shortest time, must degrade me beyond hope of permanent recovery.  I will resign business at thirty-five, but during the ensuing two years I wish to spend the afternoons in receiving instruction and in reading systematically.]