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Vol. 24 


No. 1 













great man is 
known by 
three signs- 
generosity in the design, 
humanity in the execu- 
tion and moderation in 

success.— B IS MA RCK 

Entered at the postofBce at East Aarora, New Tork, for transmiflsifm as «scond-clas« matter 
C:cH[>yri^t. 1906, by Elbert Hubbard, Editor and PaUidier. 

Is Christianity Declining? 

^^p^HAT Debate was pulled off, without 
I \ police interference, exactly as scheduled. 

There was enough of the unexpected, so 
no one went to sleep, leaving word to be 
called when it was over. No favor was asked or 
given. The rounds were rapid and exciting. 
One thing I discovered, and that was that Dr. 
Albertson is a great talker. He is also a good looker. 
His manly six feet of height, and two hundred 
pounds of chest=tone,with faultless double-breast= 
ed Prince Albert, put me to the bad in betting 
circles. It was two to one in favor of the Dominie. 
^ But when it came to logic I put the thing all over 
him. And I so explained to the Roycrofters, in 
conclave assembled, when I got home at Sun-up. 
^ Afterward, I learned that on the same evening 
that I was telling the truth to my flock, he was 
explaining to his congregation how he had run 
the oratorical Steam=Roller over me. 
So both sides are smiling. A full report of the 
Debate will be found in THE FR A, that Magazine 
of Kosmic Kilowatts, for January. Start your sub- 
scription to THE FRA with the January issue^ 

special Attention 

All Loyal Royal Roycrofters — members of 
the Immortal Clan — are urgently requested 
not to display Roycroft Books in unpro- 
tected places, fl It is not fair to your friend 
to introduce an unexpected temptation 
while he awaits your arrival in the Library. 
flTo avoid Temptation, insure that sense 
of Ease and Security on your part, and 
make possible many Happy Hours for 
your Friends, just send them a Roycroft 
Book for their very own ^ ^ ^ ^ ,^ ^ 

Our Two Dollar Books 

make friends of the uninitiated, and con- 
stant patrons of our friends, fl Our little 
Books and Things are * * Something New 
under the Sun" — and We want the whole 
World to Know it. fl List of Titles and 
Prices furnished on request. 
The Roycrofters, East Aurora, N. Y. 

By Special Appointment— Bookmakers to His Most Gracious Highness, 
the Prince of Good Taste. 

Ilotu 'Pout Jt? 

Hey thar, 


Whar yer goin', 

Snortin' an' blowin' 

Like all-persessed ? 

Say, you jest 


An' listen to my yawp, 

Just a minit. 

Cause they ' s something in it. 

You been a-lambastin' 

Folks 'bout tastin' an' wastin' 

Stuff they bolt an' gulp an' guzzle 

Inter their arliment'ry puzzle. 

An' hollerin' 

' Bout swollerin' 

An' tellin' 'em ter chew, 

An' chew an' chew. 


An' stick to it 

Ter beat ther band, 

An' show some grit an' sand, 

— Jest like ol' Hod Fletcher, 

But, say Fra — I betcher 

Yer didn't stop ter think 

Whilst yer waz a-slingin' uv all that there ink 

'Bout gittin ev'ry drop uv mastikashun jooce. 

That was a-goin' to wear yer teeth out like th' Dooce ! 

— Arthur Plummer 




I enclose Two Dollars to pay for a yearly 
subscription to THE FRA Magazine. 




Check Your Choice. One of these beautiful Roy- 
croft books, gratis, with every subscription for 


HEALTH AND WEALTH - - - - Hubbard 
The Broncho Book _ _ _ _ Capt. Jack Crawford 

Woman's Work ----- Alice Hubbard 

Battle of Waterloo _ _ _ - Victor Hugo 

White Hyacinths - - - - Elbert Hubbard 

The Rubaiyat - _ _ - _ Omar Khayyam 

A William Morris Book - - - Hubbard and Thomson 
Crimes Against Criminals - . - - Robert G. Ingersoll 

A Christmas Carol ----- Charles Dickens 
The Ballad of Reading Gaol - _ _ Oscar Wilde 

Justinian and Theodora - - Elbert and Alice Hubbard 





inF99 MFn 

I 70UI-U I t^h-n 





siz^Z EmE-^oiyMTVi 

B m • ^ ■ M - r^PPPlg 

T HAVE always expended to the last shilling my surplus wealth 
■^ in promoting this great and good cause of industrial betterment. 
The right reverend prelate is greatly deceived when he says that I 
have squandered my wealth in profligacy and luxury. I have never 
expended a pound in either; all my habits are habits of temperance 
in all things, and I challenge the right reverend prelate and all his 
abettors to prove the contrary, and I will give him and them the 
means of following me through every stage and month of my life. 
— ROBERT OWEN, in Speech before the House of Lords. 




N Germany, the land of philosophy, 
when the savants sail into a sea of 
doubt, some one cries, "Back to 

In America, when professed democ- 
racy^ grows ambitious and evolves 
a lust for power, men say, "Back 
to Jefferson!" 

In business, when employer forgets 
employee and both forget their better 
manhood, we say, "Back to Robert 

We will not go back to Robert Owen— we will go on to Robert 
Owen, for his philosophy is still in the vanguard. 
Robert Owen was a business man. His first intent was to 
attain a practical success. He produced the article, and sold 
it at a profit. 

In this operation of taking raw material and manufacturing 
it into forms of use and beauty, from the time the seed was 
planted in the ground on up to the consumer who purchased 
the finished fabric and wove it, Owen believed that all should 
profit — all shoxild be made happier by every transaction. 
That is to say, Robert Owen believed that a business trans- 
action where both sides do not make money is immoral. 
There is a legal maxim still cited in the courts, "Caveat 
emptor"— let the buyer beware. 

For this maxim Robert Owen had no respect. He scorned 
the thought of selling a man something the man did not 


want; or of selling an article for anything excepting exactly 
what it was, or of exacting a price for it by hook or crook, 
beyond its value. 

Robert Owen believed in himself, and in his product, and 
he believed in the people. He was a democratic optimist. 
He had faith in the demos; and the reason was that his 
estimate of the people was formed by seeing into his own 
heart. He realized that he was a part of the people, and he 
knew that he wanted nothing for himself which the world 
could not have on the same terms. He looked into the calm 
depths of his own heart and saw that he hated tyranny, 
pretense, vice, hypocrisy, extravagance and untruth. He 
knew in the silence of his own soul that he loved harmony, 
health, industry, reciprocity, truth and helpfulness. His 
desire was to benefit mankind, and to help himself by 
helping others. 

Therefore he concluded that, the source of all life being 
the same, he was but a sample of the average man, and 
all men would, if not intimidated and repressed, desire 
what he desired. 

When physically depressed through lack of diversified 
exercise, bad air, or wrong conditions, he realized that 
his mind was apt to be at war, not only with its best self, 
but with any person who chanced to be near. From this 
he argued that all departures in society were occasioned 
by wrong physical conditions, and in order to get a full 
and free expression of the Divine Mind, of which we are 
all reflectors or mediums, our bodies must have a right 


environment. ^ To get this Right Environment became the 
chief business and study of his life. 

To think that a man who always considers "the other 
fellow" should be a great success in a business way is to 
us more or less of a paradox. "Keep your eye on Number 
One," we advise the youth intent on success. "Take care 
of yourself," say the bucolic Solons when we start on a 
little journey. And "Self-preservation is the first law of 
life," voice the wise ones. 

And yet we know that the man who thinks only of himself, 
acquires the distrust of the whole community. He sets in 
motion forces that work against him, and has thereby 
created a handicap that blocks him at every step. 
Robert Owen was one of those quiet, wise men who win 
the confidence of men, and thereby siphon to themselves 
all good things. That the psychology of success should 
have been known to this man in Seventeen Hundred and 
Ninety, we might call miraculous, were it not for the fact 
that the miraculous is always the natural. 
Those were troublous times when Robert Owen entered 
trade. The French Revolution was on, and its fires lit up 
the intellectual sky of the whole world. The Colonies had 
been lost to England ; it was a time of tumult in Threadneedle 
Street; the armies of the world were lying on their arms 
awaiting orders. And out of this great unrest emerged Robert 
Owen, handsome, intelligent, honest, filled with a holy zeal 
to help himself by helping humanity. 
Robert Owen was born at the village of Newtown, Wales, 



in Seventeen Hundred and Seventy-one. After being away 
from his native village for many years, he returned, as did 
Shakespeare and as have so many successful men, and again 
made the place of his boyhood the home of his old age. Owen 
died in the house in which he was born. His body was buried 
in the same grave where sleeps the dust of his father and 
mother. During the eighty-seven years of his life he accom- 
plished many things and taught the world lessons which it has 
not yet memorized. 

In point of time, Robert Owen seems to have been the 
world's first Business Man. Private business was to him 
a public trust. He was a creator, a builder, an economist, 
an educator, a humanitarian. He got his education from 
his work, at his work, and strove throughout his long life 
to make it possible for others to do the same. 
He believed in the Divinity of Business. He anticipated 
Emerson by saying, "Commerce consists in making things 
for people who need them, and carrying them from where 
they are plentiful to where they are wanted." 
Every economist should be a humanitarian; and every 
humanitarian should be an economist. 
Charles Dickens, writing in Eighteen Himdred and Sixty, 
puts forth Scrooge, Carker and Bumball as economists. 
When Dickens wanted to picture ideal business men, he 
gave us the Cherryble brothers — men with soft hearts, giving 
pennies to all beggars, shillings to poor widows, and coal 
and loaves of bread to families living in rickety tenements. 
The Dickens idea of betterment was the priestly plan of dole. 



Dickens did not know that indiscriminate alms-giving pau- 
perizes humanity, and never did he supply the worid a glimpse 
of a man like Robert Owen, whose charity was something 
more than palliation. 

Robert Owen was born in decent poverty, of parents who 
knew the simple, beautiful and necessary virtues of industry, 
sobriety and economy. Where this son got his hunger for 
books and his restless desire for achievement we do not 
know. He was a business genius, and from genius of any 
kind no hovel is immune. 

He was sent to London at the age of ten to learn the 
saddler's trade; at twelve he graduated from making wax- 
ends, blacking leather and greasing harness and took a 
position as salesman in the same business. 
From this he was induced to become a salesman for a 
haberdasher. He had charm of manner — fluidity, sympathy 
and health. At seventeen he asked to be paid a commission 
on sales instead of a salary, and on this basis he saved a 
hundred pounds in a year. 

At eighteen a customer told him of a wonderful invention — 
a machine that was run by steam — ^for spinning cotton into 
yarn. Robert was familiar with the old process of making 
woolen yam on a spinning-wheel by hand — his mother did 
it and had taught him and his brothers and sisters how. 
^ C6tton was just coming in, since the close of "George 
Washington's Rebellion." Watt had watched his mother's 
teakettle to a purpose. Here were two big things destined 
to revolutionize trade — the use of cotton in place of flax 


B E 


UST here let us take a side trip 
in this LITTLE JOURNEY long 
enough to inspect the peculiar 
conditions of the time. 
It was a period of transition — the 
old was dying, the new was being 
born ^ Both experiences were 

There was a rapid displacement of 
hand labor. One machine did the 
work of ten or more persons. What 
were these people who were thrown 
out to do? Adjust themselves to the new conditions, you 
say. True, but many could not. They starved, grew sick, ate 
their hearts out in useless complaining. 
Only a few years before, and the spinning of flax and wool 
was exclusively a home industry. Every cottage had its 
spinning-wheel and loom. There was a garden, a cow, a 
pig, poultry and fruits and flowers. The whole household 
worked, and the wheel and loom were never idle while it 
was light. The family worked in relays. 
It was a very happy and prosperous time. Life was simple 
and natural. There was constant labor, but it was diversified. 
The large flocks of sheep, raised chiefly for wool, made mutton 
cheap. Everything was homemade. People made things for 
themselves and if they acquired a superior skill they supplied 
their neighbors, or exchanged products with them. As the 
manixfacturing was done in the homes there was no crowding 


of population. The factory boarding-house and the tenement 
were yet to come. 

This was the condition up to Seventeen Hundred and Seventy. 
From then until Seventeen Hundred and Ninety was the time 
of transition. By Seventeen Hundred and Ninety, mills were 
erected wherever there was water power, and the village 
artisans were moving to the towns to work in the mills. 
^ For the young men and women it was an alluring life. 
The old way gave them no time to themselves — there was 
the cow to milk, the pigs and poultry to care for, or the 
garden making insistent demands. Now they worked at 
certain hours for certain wages, and rested. Tenements 
took the place of cottages and the "public," with its 
smiling barkeep, was always right at the corner. 
Hargreaves, Arkwright, Watt and Eli Whitney had worked 
a revolution more far-reaching than did Mirabeau, Danton, 
Robespierre and Marat. 

Here creeps in an item interesting to our friends who revel 
in syntax and prosody. Any machine or apparatus for lifting 
has been called a "jack" since the days of Shakespeare. 
The jack was a bearer of bundles, a lifter, a puller, a worker. 
Any coarse bit of mechanism was called a jack, and is yet. 
In most factories there are testing jacks, gearing jacks, 
lifting jacks. Falstaff tells of a jack-of-all-trades. The jack 
was anything strong, patient and serviceable. 
When Hargreaves, the Lancashire carpenter, invented his 
spinning-machine a village wit called it a "jenny." The 
machine was fine, delicate, subtle and, as spinning was a 



woman's business anyway, the new machine was parsed 
in the feminine gender. 

Soon the new invention took on a heavier and stronger 
form, and its persistency suggested to some other merry 
villager a new variation and it was called a "mule." The 
word stuck, and the mule-spinner is with us wherever 
cotton is spun. 

The discovery that coal was valuable for fuel followed the 
invention of the steam engine. 

When things are needed we dig down and find them, or 
reach up and secure them. You could not run a steamship, 
excepting along a river with well-wooded banks, any more 
than you could run an automobile with coal. 
The dealing in coal, or "coals** as our English cousins 
still use the word, began in Eighteen Hundred and Nineteen. 
That was the year the first steamship, the Savannah, crossed 
the ocean. She ran from Savannah to London. Her time was 
twenty-five days. She burned four hundred and fifty tons of 
coal, or about two-thirds of her entire carrying capacity. 
Robert Fulton had begun running his steamer "Clermont'* 
on the Hudson in Eighteen Hundred and Seven, but there 
were wooding stations every twenty miles. 
It was argued in the House of Commons that no steamship 
could ever cross the Atlantic with steam, alone, as a pro- 
pelling power. And even as it was being mathematically 
proved, the whistle of the ^Savannah drowned the voice of 
the orator. 
But the Savannah also carried sail, and so the doubters 



still held the floor. An iron boat with no sails that could 
cross the Atlantic in five days, was a miracle that no optimist 
had forseen — much less, dared to prophecy. 
The new conditions almost threatened to depopulate the 
rural districts. Farmers forsook the soil. The uncertainty 
of a crop was replaced with the certainty of a given wage. 
Children could tend the spinning-jennies as well as men. 
There was a demand for child labor. Any poor man with 
a big family counted himself rich. Many a man who could 
not find a job at a man*s wage quit work and was supported 
by his wife and children. To rear a family became a 
paying enterprise. 

Various mill-owners adopted children or took them under 
the apprentice system, agreeing to teach them the trade. 
Girls and boys from orphan asylums and workhouses were 
secured and held as practical slaves. They were herded in 
sheep-sheds where they slept on straw and were fed in 
troughs. They were worked in two shifts, night and day, 
so the straw was never really cold. They worked twelve 
hours, slept eight, and one hour was allowed for meals. 
Their clothing was not removed excepting on Saturday. 
^ Any alteration in the business life of a people is fraught 
with great danger. Recklessness, greed and brutality at 
such a time are rife. 

Almost all workingmen of forty or over were out of work. 
Naturally, employers hired only the young, the active, the 
athletic. These made more money than they were used to 
making, so they spent it lavishly and foolishly. It was a 



woman's business an5rway, the new machine was parsed 
in the feminine gender. 

Soon the new invention took on a heavier and stronger 
form, and its persistency suggested to some other merry 
villager a new variation and it was called a "mule." The 
word stuck, and the mule-spinner is with us wherever 
cotton is spun. 

The discovery that coal was valuable for fuel followed the 
invention of the steam engine. 

When things are needed we dig down and find them, or 
reach up and secure them. You could not run a steamship, 
excepting along a river with well-wooded banks, any more 
than you could run an automobile with coal. 
The dealing in coal, or "coals** as our English cousins 
still use the word, began in Eighteen Hundred and Nineteen. 
That was the year the first steamship, the Savannah, crossed 
the ocean. She ran from Savannah to London. Her time was 
twenty-five days. She burned four hundred and fifty tons of 
coal, or about two-thirds of her entire carrying capacity. 
Robert Fulton had begim running his steamer "Clermont** 
on the Hudson in Eighteen Hundred and Seven, but there 
were wooding stations every twenty miles. 
It was argued in the House of Commons that no steamship 
cotild ever cross the Atlantic with steam, alone, as a pro- 
pelling power. And even as it was being mathematically 
proved, the whistle of the ^Savannah drowned the voice of 
the orator. 
But the Savannah also carried sail, and so the doubters 



still held the floor. An iron boat with no sails that could 
cross the Atlantic in five days, was a miracle that no optimist 
had forseen — much less, dared to prophecy. 
The new conditions almost threatened to depopulate the 
rural districts. Farmers forsook the soil. The uncertainty 
of a crop was replaced with the certainty of a given wage. 
Children could tend the spinning-jennies as well as men. 
There was a demand for child labor. Any poor man with 
a big family counted himself rich. Many a man who could 
not find a job at a man's wage quit work and was supported 
by his wife and children. To rear a family became a 
paying enterprise. 

Various mill-owners adopted children or took them under 
the apprentice system, agreeing to teach them the trade. 
Girls and boys from orphan asylums and workhouses were 
secured and held as practical slaves. They were herded in 
sheep-sheds where they slept on straw and were fed in 
troughs. They were worked in two shifts, night and day, 
so the straw was never really cold. They worked twelve 
hours, slept eight, and one hour was allowed for meals. 
Their clothing was not removed excepting on Saturday. 
^ Any alteration in the business life of a people is fraught 
with great danger. Recklessness, greed and brutality at 
such a time are rife. 

Almost all workingmen of forty or over were out of work. 
Naturally, employers hired only the young, the active, the 
athletic. These made more money than they were used to 
making, so they spent it lavishly and foolishly. It was a 



prosperous time, yet strangely enough, prosperity brought 
starvation to thousands. Family life in many instances was 
destroyed and thus were built those long rows of houses, 
all alike, with no mark of individuality — no yards, no flowers, 
no gardens — that still in places mar the landscape in factory 
towns. Pretty girls went to the towns to work in the mills, 
and thus lost home ties. Later they drifted to London. 
Drunkenness increased. 

In Seventeen Hundred and Ninety-six, there was formed 
the Manchester Board of Health. Its intent was to guard 
the interests of factory workers. Its desire was to insure 
light, ventilation and sanitary conveniences for the workers. 
Beyond this it did not seek to go. 

The mill superintendents lifted a howl. They talked about 
interference, and depriving the poor people of the right to 
labor. They declared it was all a private matter between 
themselves and the workers — a matter of contract. 
Robert Owen, it seems, was the first factory superintendent 
to invite inspection of his plant. He worked with the Board 
of Health, not against it. He refused to employ children 
under ten years of age, and although there was a tax on 
windows, he supplied plenty of light and also fresh air. 
So great was the ignorance of the workers, that they 
regarded the Factory Laws as an infringement on their 
rights. The greed and foolish fears of the mill-owners 
prompted them to put out the good old argument that a 
man's children were his own, and that for the state to dictate 
to him where they should work, when and how, was a species 



of tyranny. Work was good for children! Let them run the 
streets? Never! 

It is a curious thing to note that when Senator Albert J. 
Beveridge endeavored to have a Federal Bill passed at 
Washington, in Nineteen Hundred and Seven, the argu- 
ments he had to meet and answer were those which Robert 
Owen and Sir Robert Peel were obliged to answer in Seven- 
teen Hundred and Ninety-five. 

When a man who worked a hundred orphans fourteen 
hours a day, boys and girls of from six to twelve, was 
accused of cruelty he defended himself by saying, "If I 
doesn't work *em all the time 'cept when they sleep and 
eat, they will learn to play, and then never work." This 
argument was repeated by many fond parents as conclusive. 
^ The stress of the times — having many machines in one 
btxilding, all run by one motor power, the necessity of 
buying raw material in quantities, the expense of finding 
a market — all these combined to force the invention of a 
very curious economic expediency. It was called a Joint 
Stock Company. From a man and his wife and his children 
making things at home, we get two or three men going 
into partnership and hiring a few of their neighbors at day 
wages J^ J. 

Then we get the system of "share-holding," with hundreds 
or thousands of people as partners in a manufacturing 
enterprise which they never visit. 

The people who owned shares were the ones who owned 
the tools. Very naturally, they wanted and expected divi- 



dends for the use of the tools. That was all they wanted — 
dividends. The manager of the mill held his position only 
through his ability to make the venture bring returns. The 
people who owned the shares or the tools, never saw the 
people who used the tools. A great gulf lay between them. 
For the wrongs and injustice visited upon the workers no 
one^person was to blame. The fault was shifted. Everybody 
justified himself. And then came the saying, "Corporations 
have no souls.'* 

Robert Owen was manager of a mill, yet he saw the misery, 
the ignorance and the mental indifference that resulted from 
the factory system. He, too, must produce dividends, but 
the desire of his heart was also to mitigate the lot of the 
workers ^ .^ 

Books were written by good men picturing the evils of the 
factory system. Comparisons were made between the old 
and new in which the hideousness of the new was etched 
in biting phrase. Some tried to turn the dial backward and 
revive the cottage industries, as did Ruskin a little later. 
"A Dream of John Ball" was anticipated and many sighed 
for "the good old times." 

But among the many philosophers and philanthropists who 
wrestled with the problem, Robert Owen seems to have stood 
alone in the belief that success lay in going on, and not in 
turning back. He set himself to making the new condition 
tolerable and prophesied a day when out of the smoke and 
din of strife would emerge a condition that would make for 
health, happiness and prosperity such as this tired old world 



B E 


never has seen. Robert Owen was England's first Socialist. 
9 Very naturally, he was called a dreamer. Some called 
him an infidel, and the enemy of society. 
Very many now call him a seer and a prophet. 

N Robert Owen's day cotton yarn 
was packaged and sold in five- 
pound btmdles. These packages 
were made up in hanks of a 
given number of yards jt One 
hundred and twenty counts to a 
package was fixed upon as ** par" 
or "standard count." If the thread 
was very fine of course more hanks 
were required to make up the five 
pounds. The price ranged up or 
down, below or above the one 
hundred and twenty mark. That is, if a package contained 
two hundred and forty hanks, its value was just double 
what it would have been if merely standard. 
Robert Owen knew fabrics before he began to spin. First, 
he was a salesman. Second, he made the things he could sell. 
^ The one supremely difficult thing in business is sales- 
manship. Goods can be manufactured on formula, but it 



takes a man to sell. He who can sell is a success — others 
may be. ^ The only men who succeed in dictating the policy 
of the house are those in the Sales Department; that is, 
those who are on the side of income, not of expense. 
The man with a "secret process" of manufacture always 
imparts his secret, sooner or later, but the salesman does 
not impart his secret, because he can't. It is not trans- 
ferable. It is a matter of personality. Not only does the 
salesman have to know his goods, but he must know the 
buyer — he must know humanity. 

And humanity was the raw stock in which Robert Owen 
dealt. Robert Owen never tried to increase his sales by 
decreasing his price. His product was always higher than 
standard. '^Anybody can cut prices," he said, "but it takes 
brains to make a better article." He focused on fineness. 
qAnd soon buyers were coming to him. A finer article 
meant a finer trade. And now, on each package of yam 
that Owen sent out he placed a label that read thus, "This 
package was made under the supervision of Robert Owen. " 
Thus his name gradually became a synonym for quality. 
^ Among other curious ideas held by Owen was that to 
make finer goods you must have a finer quality of workman. 
To produce this finer type of person now became his dream. 
^ Mr. Drinkwater smiled at the idea and emphasized 

Now Mr. Drinkwater had a son-in-law who looked in on 
things once a month, signed his voucher|^and went away 
fox-hunting. He thought he was helping run the mill. 


This man grew jealous of the young manager and suggested 
that Drinkwater increase the boy's pay and buy off the 
percentage clause in the contract so to keep the youngster 
from getting meglacephalia. 

Drinkwater asked Owen what he would take for the contract 
and Owen handed it to him and said, "Nothing." It gave 
him a chance to get out into a larger field. Drinkwater 
never thought of the value of that little Robert Owen label. 
No wise employer should ever allow a thing like that. 
Owen had won both a name and fame among the mer- 
chants and he now engaged with several mills, to superintend 
their output and sell their goods with his label on each 
package. In other words he was a Manufacturer's Broker. 
From a five-hundred-pound-a-year man he had grown to 
be worth two thousand pounds a year. 
No mill owned him. He was free — he was making money. 
The dream of human betterment was still in his heart. 
^ On one of his trips to Glasgow to sell goods, he met a 
daughter of David Dale, a mill-owner who was in active 
competition with him. Dale made a fine yarn, too. 
The girl had heard of Owen — they met as enemies — a very 
good way to begin an acquaintance. It was Nature's old, 
old game of stamen, pistil and pollen, that fertilizes the 
world of business, betterment and beauty. They quarreled. 
"You are the man who puts your name on the package?" 

"And^yet you own no mill I" 
"True— but— " 



"Never mind. You certainly are proud of your name." 
" I am — would n't you be?" 
"Not of yours." 

Then they stared at each other in defiance. To relieve the 
tension, Mr. Owen proposed a stroll. They took a walk 
through the park and discovered that they both were inter- 
ested in Social Reform. David Dale owned the mills at New 
Lanark — a most picturesque site. He was trying to carry on 
a big business, so as to make money and help the workers. 
He was doing neither, because his investment in the plant 
had consumed too much of his working capital. 
They discussed the issue until eleven forty-five by the clock. 
^ The girl knew business and knew society. The latter she 
had no use for. 

The next day they met again, and quite accidentally found 
themselves engaged, neither of *em knew how. 
It was very embarrassing I How could they break the news 
to Papa Dale? 

They devised a way. It was this: Robert Owen was to go 
and offer to buy Mr. Dale's mills. 

Owen went over to Lanark and called on Mr. Dale, and 
told him he wanted to buy his business. Mr. Dale looked at 
the boy, and smiled. Owen was twenty-seven, but appeared 
twenty, being beardless, slight and fair-haired. 
The youth said he could get all the money that was needed. 
They sparred for a time — neither side naming figures. It 
being about noon time, Mr. Dale asked young Mr. Owen 
to go over to his house to lunch. Mr. Dale was a widower, 





but his daughter kept the house. Mr. Dale introduced Mr. 

Owen to Miss Dale. 

The young folks played their parts with a coolness that 

would have delighted John Drew, and would have been 

suspicious to anybody but a fussy old mill-owner. 

Finally as the crumbs were being brushed from the rich 

man's table, Mr. Dale fixed on the sum of sixty thousand 

pounds for his property. 

Owen was satisfied and named as terms three thousand 

pounds and interest each year for twenty years, touching 

the young lady's toe with his own under the table. 

Mr. Dale agreed. Mr. Owen had the money to make the 

first payment. The papers were drawn up. The deal was 

closed — all but the difficult part. This was done by rushing 

the enemy in his library, after a good meal. "It keeps the 

business in the family, you see, " said the girl on her knees, 

pouting prettily. 

The point was gained and when Robert Owen, a few 

weeks later, came to New Lanark to take possession of 

the property, he did as much for the girl. So they were 

married and lived happily ever afterward. 


B E 


f\ OBERT OWEN took up his work 
at New Lanark with all the en- 
thusiasm that hope, youth and 
love could bring to bear. 
Mr. Dale had carried the flag as 
far to the front as he thought 
it could be safely carried; that is 
to say, as far as he was able to 
carry it. 

Owen had his work cut out for 
him. The workers were mostly 
Lowland Scotch and spoke in an 

almost different language from Owen. They looked upon 
him with suspicion. The place had been sold and they had 
gone with it — how were they to be treated? Were wages 
to be lowered and hours extended? Probably. 
Pilfering had been reduced to a system, and to get the start 
of the soft-hearted owner was considered smart. 
Mr. Dale had tried to have a school and to this end had 
hired an elderly Irishman, who gave hard lessons and a 
taste of the birch to children who had exhausted themselves 
in the mills and had no zest for learning. Mr. Dale had 
taken on over two hundred pauper children from the work- 
houses and these were a sore trial to him. 
Owen*s first move was to reduce the working hours from 
twelve to ten hours. Indeed, he was the first mill-owner 
to adopt the ten-hour plan. He improved the sanitary 
arrangements, put in shower baths and took a personal 


interest in the diet of his little wards, often dining with 
them J> Jt> 

A special school building was built at a cost of thirty thousand 
dollars. This was both a day and a night school jt It also 
took children of one year old and over, in order to relieve 
mothers who worked in the mills. "The little mothers," 
often only four or five years old, took care of babies a year 
old and younger all day. Owen instructed his teachers 
never to scold or punish by inflicting physical pain. His 
was the first school in Christendom to abolish the rod. 
^ His plan anticipated the Kindergarten and the Creche. He 
called mothers* meetings and tried to show the uselessness 
of scolding and beating, because to do these things was 
really to teach the children to do them. He abolished the 
sale of strong drink in New Lanark. Model houses were 
erected, gardens planted and prizes given for the raising 
of flowers. 

In order not to pauperize his people, Owen had them pay 
a slight tuition for the care of the children and there was 
also a small tax levied to buy flower seeds. 
In the school building was a dance hall and an auditorium. 
fl At one time the supply of raw cotton was cut off for 
four months. During this time Owen paid his people full 
wages, insisted that they should all, old and young, go to 
school for two hours a day and work also two hours a day 
at tree planting, grading and gardening. During this period 
of idleness he paid out seven thousand pounds in wages. 
This was done to keep the workmen from wandering away. 



^ It need not be imagined that Owen did not have other 
cares besides those of social betterment jt Much of the 
machinery in the mills was worn and becoming obsolete. 
To replace this he borrowed a hundred thousand dollars. 
Then he reorganized his business as a stock company and 
sold shares to several London merchants with whom he 
dealt. He interested Jeremy Bentham, the great jurist 
and humanitarian, and Bentham proved his faith by buying 
stock in the New Lanark Company. 

Joseph Lancaster, the Quaker, a mill-owner and philan- 
thropist, did the same. 

Owen paid a dividend of five per cent on his shares. A 
surplus was also set aside to pay dividends in case of a 
setback, but beyond this the money was invested in bettering 
the environment of his people. 

New Lanark had been running fourteen years under Owen's 
management. It had attracted the attention of the civilized 
world. The Grand Duke Nicholas, afterwards the Czar, spent 
a month with Owen studying his methods. The Dukes of 
Kent, Sussex, Bedford and Portland; the Archbishop of 
Canterbury ; the Bishops of London, Peterborough and Car- 
lisle; the Marquis of Huntly; Lords Grosvenor, Carnarvon, 
Granville, Westmoreland, Shaftesbury and Manners ; General 
Sir Thomas Dyce and General Brown ; Ricardo, De Crespigny, 
Wilberf orce, Joseph Butterworth and Sir Francis Baring all 
visited New Lanark. Writers, preachers, doctors, in fact almost 
every man of intellect and worth in the Kingdom knew of 
Robert Owen and his wonderful work at New Lanark. Sir 


Robert owen 

Robert Peel had been to New Lanark and had gone back 
home and issued an official bulletin inviting mill-owners to 
study and pattern after the system. 

The House of Commons invited Owen to appear and explain 
his plan for abolishing poverty from the Kingdom. He was 
invited to lecture in many cities. He issued a general call 
to all mill-owners in the Kingdom to co-operate with him 
in banishing ignorance and poverty. 
But to a great degree Owen worked alone and New Lanark 
was a curiosity. Most mill towns had long rows of dingy 
tenements, all alike, guiltless of paint, with not a flower 
bed or tree to mitigate the unloveliness of the scene. Down 
there in the dirt and squalor lived the working-folks; while 
away up on the hillside, surrounded by a vast park, with 
stables, kennels and conservatories, resided the owner. 
Owen lived with his people. And the one himdred and fifty 
acres that made up the village of New Lanark contained a 
happy, healthy and prosperous population of about two 
thousand people. 

There was neither pauperism nor disease, neither gamblers 
nor drunkards. All worked and all went to school. 
It was an object lesson of thrift and beauty. 
Visitors came from all over Europe — often hundreds a day. 
^ Why could not this example be extended indefinitely so that 
hundreds of such villages should grow instead of only one? 
There could, and there can and there will be, but the people 
must evolve their own ideal environment and not have to 
have it supplied for them. 



By Owen's strength of purpose he kept the village ideal, 
but he failed to evolve an ideal people. All around were 
unideal surroundings, and the people came and went. 
Strong drink was to be had only a few miles away. To have 
an ideal village, it must be located in an ideal country. 
Owen called on the clergy to unite with him in bringing 
about an ideal material environment. He said that good 
water, sewerage and trees and flowers worked a better 
spiritual condition. They replied by calling him a materialist. 
He admitted that he worked for a material good. His 
followers added to his troubles by comparing his work 
with that of the clergy round about, where vice, poverty 
and strong drink grouped themselves about a steeple upon 
which was a cross of gold to which labor was nailed — a 
simile to be used later by a great orator, with profit. 
Owen was a Unitarian, with a Quaker bias. Any clergyman 
was welcome to come to New Lanark — it was a free platform. 
A few preachers accepted the invitation, with the intent to 
convert Robert Owen to their particular cause. New Lanark 
was pointed out all over England as a godless town. The 
bishops issued a general address to all rectors and curates 
warning them against "any system of morals that does 
away with God and His Son, Jesus Christ, fixing its salvation 
on flower beds and ragged schools." 
New Lanark was making money, because it was producing 
goods the world wanted. But its workers were tabu in 
respectable society and priestly hands were held aloft in 
pretended horror whenever the name of Robert Owen, or 




the word ** Socialism" was used. Owen refused to employ 
child labor and issued a book directing the attention of 
society to this deadly traffic in human beings. The parents, 
the clergy and the other mill-owners combined against him 
and he was denounced by press and pulpit. 
He began to look around f r a better environment for an 
ideal community. His gaze was turned toward America. 

OBERT OWEN»S plan for abol- 
ishing vice and poverty was simply 
to set the people to work under 
ideal conditions, and then allow 
them time enough for recreation 
and mental exercise, so that thrift 
might follow farming. 
In reply to the argument that the 
workman should evolve his own 
standard of life, independent of 
his employer, Owen said that 
^ the mill with its vast aggregation 
of hands was an artificial condition. The invention, ingenuity 
and enterprise that evolved the mill were exceptional. The 
operators for the most part lacked this constructive genius, 
the proof of which lay in the very fact that they were 



operators. ^ To take advantage of their limitations, disrupt 
their natural and accustomed mode of life and then throw 
the blame back upon them for not evolving a new and better 
environment, was not reasonable nor right. 
The same constructive genius that built the mill and operated 
it, should be actively interested in the welfare of the people 
who worked in the mill. 

To this end there should be an ideal village adjacent to 
every great mill. This village should afford at least half 
an acre of ground for every family. In the way of economy, 
one building should house a thousand people. It should be 
built in the form of a parallelogram and contain co-operative 
kitchens, dining-rooms, libraries, art galleries and gym- 
nasia. It should be, in fact, a great University, not unlike 
the great collection of schools at Oxford or Cambridge. 
All would be workers — all would be students. 
The villages should be under the general supervision of the 
government, in order to secure stability and permanency. 
If the mill management failed, the government should 
continue the business, because even if the government lost 
money in the venture, at times, this was better than always 
to be building jails, prisons, insane asylums, almshouses and 
hospitals .^ Ji 

In sections where there were no mills or factories, the 
government would construct both mills and villages, to 
the intent that idleness and ignorance might be without 
excuse. To this end Owen would ask all landowners, or 
holders of estates of a thousand acres or more, to set apart 


one-tenth of their land for ideal villages and co-operative 
mills to be managed by the government. 
As proof that his plans were feasible, Owen pointed to New 
Lanark and invited investigation. 

Among others who answered the invitation was Henry Hase, 
cashier of the Bank of England. Hase reported that New 
Lanark had the look of a place that had taken a century 
to evolve and, in his mind, the nation could not do better 
than to follow the example of Owen. He then added, **U 
the clergy, nobility and mill-owners will adopt the general 
scientific method proposed by Mr. Owen for the abolition of 
poverty, ignorance and crime, it will be the greatest step 
of progress ever seen in the history of the world." 
In proposing that the clergy, nobility and mill-owners 
should unite for the good of mankind, Mr. Hase was not 
guilty of subtle humor or ironical suggestion. He was an 
honest and sincere man who had been exposed to the con- 
tagious enthusiasm of Mr. Owen. 

Owen was fifty-seven years of age, practical man that he 
was, before he realized that the clergy, the nobility and 
the rich mill-owners had already entered into an unconscious 
pact to let mankind go to Gehenna — just so long as the 
honors, emoluments and dividends were preserved. 
That is to say, the solicitation of the Church is not and 
never has been for the welfare of the people; it is for the 
welfare of the Church for which churchmen fight ,^ All 
persecution turns on this point. 
If stability of the Church is threatened, the churchmen 


B E 


awake and cry, "To Arms!" In this respect the Church, 
the nobility and vested capital have everything in common 
— they want perpetuity and security. They seek safety. All 
of the big joint stock companies had in their directorates 
members of the nobility and the clergy. The bishops held 
vast estates — they were Lords. 

The Church livings were rooted in the estates of the nobility 
and both traced to a common ancestor — greed ^ The Gov- 
ernment was a government of the people, by the Church 
and nobility, for the Church and nobility. 
Robert Owen did not represent either the Church or nobility. 
He was a very exceptional and unique product; he was a 
workingman who had become a philanthropic capitalist. He 
was a lover of humanity, filled with a holy zeal to better the 
condition of the laborer. 





HE mills at New Lanark were 
making money, but the share- 
holders in London were not 
satisfied with their dividends Jt> 
They considered Owen's plans 
for educating the workingman 
chimerical. In one respect they 
knew that Owen was sane — he 
could take the raw stock and 
produce the quality of goods 
that had a market value. He 
had trained up a valuable and 
skilled force of foremen and workers. Things were pros- 
perous and would be much more so if Owen would only 
cease dreaming dreams and devote himself to the com- 
mercial end of the game. 

If he would not do this, then he must buy their stock or 
sell them a controlling interest of his own. 
He chose the latter. 

In Eighteen Hundred and Twenty-five, when he was fifty- 
five years old, he sailed for America. He gave lectures in 
New York, Boston, Philadelphia and Washington on his 
new order of economics. He was listened to with profound 
attention. At Washington he was the guest of the President, 
and on invitation addressed a joint session of the Senate 
and the House, setting forth his arguments for Socialism. 
5 The Moravians at Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, had founded 
their colony as early as Seventeen Hundred and Twenty. 



The Zoarites, the Economites, the Separatists, the Shakers, 
and the Rappites had been in existence and maintained 
successful communities for a score of years. 
Robert Owen visited these various colonies and saw that 
they were all prosperous. There was neither sickness, vice, 
poverty, drunkenness nor disease to be found among them. 
He became more and more convinced that the demands 
of an advancing civilization would certainly be co-operative 
in nature. Chance might unhorse the individual, but with 
a community the element of chance was eliminated. He 
laid it down as a maxim, evolved from his study, observation 
and experience, that the community that exists for three 
years is a success. That no industrial community had ever 
endured for three years, save as it was founded on a religious 
concept, was a fact that he overlooked. Also, he failed to 
see that the second generation of communists did not 
coalesce, and as a result that thirty-three years was the 
age limit for even a successful community; and that if it 
still survived, it was because it was reorganized under a 
strong and dominant leadership. 

Communists or Socialists are of two classes — those who 
wish to give and those who wish to get. When fifty-one 
per cent of the people in a community are filled with a 
desire to give, Socialism will be a success. 
Perhaps the most successful social experiment in America 
was the Oneida Community, but next to this was the Har- 
monyites, founded by George Rapp «^ The Harmonyites 
fotmded Harmony, Indiana, in Eighteen Hundred and 


Fourteen. They moved from Pennsylvania and had been 
located at their present site for eleven years. They 
owned thirty thousand acres of splendid land at the junction 
of the Wabash and Ohio Rivers. They had built over a 
hundred houses, had barns, stores, a church, a hall, a saw- 
mill, a hotel and a woolen factory. 
Now when Owen went to Pittsburg, he floated down the 
Ohio to Cincinnati and then on to Harmony ^ He was 
graciously received and was delighted with all he saw and 
heard ^ J> 

Owen saw the success of the woolen mill and declared that 
to bring cotton up by steamboats from the South, would 
be easy. He would found cotton mills and here New Lanark 
should bloom again only on an increased scale. 
Would the Rappites sell? 

Yes, they wanted to move back to Pennsylvania, where 
there were other groups of similar faith. 
Their place, they figured, was worth two hundred and 
fifty thousand dollars. Owen made an offer of one hundred 
and fifty thousand dollars, which to his surprise was quietly 
accepted. It was a quick deal. 

The Rappites moved out, and the Owenites moved in. 
Just across the Ohio River they founded the town of 
Owensboro jt j, 

Then Owen went back to England and sent over about 
three hundred of his people, including his own son, Robert 
Dale Owen. 
Robert Owen had large interests in England, and New 



Harmony on the banks of the Wabash was incidental. 
Robert Dale Owen was then twenty-five years old. He was 
a philosopher, not an economist, and since the place lacked 
a business head, dissensions arose. Let some one else tell 
how quickly a community can evaporate when it lacks the 
cement of religious oneness: 

For the first few weeks, all entered into the new system 
with a will. Service was the order of the day. Men who seldom 
or never before labored with their hands, devoted themselves 
to agriculture and the mechanical arts with a zeal which 
was at least commendable, though not always well directed. 
Ministers of the gospel guided the plow and called swine to 
their corn instead of sinners to repentance, and let patience 
have her perfect work over an unruly yoke of oxen »^ Mer- 
chants exchanged the yardstick for the rake or pitchfork ; 
and all appeared to labor cheerfully for the common weal. 
Among the women there was even more apparent self- 
sacrifice. Those who had seldom seen the inside of their 
own^kitchens went into that of the common eating-house 
(formerly a hotel) and made themselves useful among pots 
and kettles. Refined young ladies who had been waited upon 
all their lives, took turns in waiting upon others at the table. 
And several times a week all parties who chose, mingled in 
the social dance in the great dining-hall. 
But notwithstanding the apparent heartiness and cordiality 
of this auspicious opening, it was in the social atmosphere of 
the Community that the first cloud arose. Self-love was a 
spirit which could not be exorcised. It whispered to the lowly 
maidens, whose former position in society had cultivated the 
spirit of meekness — "Thou art as good as the formerly rich 
and fortunate ; insist upon your equality. " It reminded the 
former favorites of society of their lost superiority, and de- 



spite all rules tinctured their words and actions with **airs" 
and conceit. Similar thoughts and feelings soon arose among 
the men; and though not so soon exhibited they were none 
the less deep and strong. Suffice it to say, that at the end of 
three months — three months I — the leading minds in the com- 
munity were compelled to acknowledge to each other that the 
social life of the Community could not be botmded by a single 
circle. They therefore acquiesced, though reluctantly, in its 
division into many. But they still hoped and many of them 
no doubt believed that though social equality was a failure, 
commimity of property was not. Whether the law of mine and 
thine is natural or incidental in human character, it soon 
began to develope its sway. The industrious, the skilful and 
the strong saw the product of their labor enjoyed by the 
indolent, the unskilled and the improvident; and self-love 
rose against benevolence. A band of musicians thought their 
brassy harmony was as necessary to the common happiness 
as bread and meat, and declined to enter the harvest-field 
or the workshop. A lecturer upon natural science insisted 
upon talking while others worked. Mechanics, whose single 
day's labor brought two dollars into the common stock, in- 
sisted that they should in justice work only half as long as 
the agriculturist whose day*s work brought but one. 
Of course, for a while, these jealousies were concealed, 
but soon they began to be expressed. It was useless to remind 
all parties that the common labor of all ministered to the 
prosperity of the Community. Individual happiness was the 
law of nature and it could not be obliterated. And before a 
single year had passed, this law had scattered the members 
of that society which had come together so earnestly and 
under such favorable circumstances and driven them back 
into the selfish world from which they came. 
The writer of this sketch has since heard the history of 





that eventful year reviewed with honesty and earnestness 
by the best men and most intelligent parties of that unfor- 
tunate social experiment ^ They admitted the favorable 
circumstances which surrounded its commencement; the 
intelligence, devotion and earnestness which were brought 
to the cause by its projectors and its final total failure. And 
they rested ever after in the belief that man though disposed 
to philanthropy, is essentially selfish and a community of 
social equality and common property an impossibility. 

HE loss of two hundred thousand 
dollars did not dampen the ardor 
of Robert Owen. He paid up the 
debts of New Harmony, had the 
property surveyed and subdivided 
and then deeded it to his children 
and immediate relatives and a few 
of the "staunch friends who have 
such a lavish and unwise faith in 
my wisdom" — to use his own ex- 
pression ^ ^ 

To give work to the unemployed 
of England now became his immediate solicitation. He was 
sixty years old when he inaugurated his first co-operative 
store, which in fact is the parent of our modern Department 
Store jt j» 


In this store he proposed to buy any useful article or product 
which any man might make or produce, figuring on cost of 
the raw material and six pence an hour for labor. This labor 
was to be paid for in Labor Script, receivable in payment 
for anything the man might want to buy. Here we get the 
Labor Exchange ^ Owen proposed that the Government 
should set delinquent men to work, instead of sending them 
to prison. Any man who would work, no matter what he 
had done, should be made free. The Government would 
then pay the man in Labor Exchange Script. Of course, 
if the Government guaranteed the script, it was real money ; 
otherwise it was wild-cat money, subject to fluctuation and 
depreciation. Very naturally the Government refused to 
guarantee this script, or to invest in the co-operative stores. 
To make the script valuable, it had to be issued in the form 
of a note, redeemable in gold at a certain time. 
The stores were started, and many idle men found work in 
building mills and starting various industries. 
Three years passed and some of the script became due. It 
was found to be largely held by saloon-keepers who had 
accepted it at half price. Efforts had been constantly made 
to hurt Owen's standing and depreciate the market value 
of this currency. 

The Labor Exchange that had issued the script was a 
corporation, and Robert Owen was not individually liable, 
but he stepped into the breach and paid every penny out 
of his own purse, saying, '*No man shall ever say that he 
lost money by following my plans." 



Next he founded the co-operative village of Harmony or 
Queenswood. The same general plan that he had followed 
at New Lanark was here carried out, save that he endeavored 
to have the mill owned by the workers instead of by outside 
capital ^ ^ 

Through his very able leadership, this new venture continued 
for ten years and was indeed a school and a workshop. The 
workers had gardens, flowers, books. There were debates, 
classes and much intellectual exercise that struck sparks 
from heads that were once punk. John Tyndall was one of 
the teachers and also a worker in this mill. Let the fact stand 
out that Owen discovered Tyndall — a great, divinely human 
nautilus — and sent him sailing down the tides of Time. 
At eighty years of age, Owen appeared before the House 
of Commons and read a paper which he had spent a year 
in preparing — "The Abolition of Poverty and Crime." He 
held the Government responsible for both, and said that until 
the ruling class took up the reform idea and quit their policy 
of palliation, society would wander in the wilderness. To 
gain the Promised Land we must all move together in a 
government "of the people, by the people and for the 
people." He was listened to with profound respect and a 
vote of thanks was tendered him; but his speech never 
reached the public printer. 

Robert Dale Owen became a naturalized citizen of the 
United States, and for several years was a member of 
Congress. And at the time of the death of his father was 
pur minister to Italy, having been appointed by President 

B E 



Pierce. ^ At the time he was in England, and announced 
the passing of Robert Owen to the family at New Harmony, 
Indiana, in the following letter: 

Newtown, Wales, 

November 17th, 1858. 
It is all over. Our dear father passed away this morning, 
at a quarter before seven, as quietly and gently as if he had 
been falling asleep. There was not the least struggle, not 
the contraction of a limb or a muscle, not an expression 
of pain on his face. His breathing stopped so gradually 
that, even as I held his hand, I could scarcely tell the 
moment when he no longer lived. His last words, distinctly 
pronounced about twenty minutes before his death, were: 
"Relief has come." 


will give his Heart to Heart Talk, 
"The March of the Centuries," as follows: 

ST. LOUIS, MO.— Friday Evening, February 12th. Fine 

Arts, "Memorial Hall," Locust and 19th St. Seats on 

sale at Bollman Bros. Piano Co., 1120 Olive St. 
PIITSBURG, PA.— Tuesday Evening, February 23rd. 

Carnegie Hall, (North Side). Seats on sale at Boggs 

& Buhl's Book Department one week in advance. 
BOSTON, MASS.— Thursday Evening, March 4th. Chick- 

ering Hall, Huntington Ave. Seats on sale at Box 

PHILADELPHIA, PA.— Friday Evening, March the 19th. 

Witherspoon Hall, Walnut, Juniper and Sansom Sts. 

Seats on sale at John Wanamaker's Book Department. 
NEW YORK CITY— Sunday Evening, March 28th. 

Carnegie Hall, 53rd and 7th Ave. Seats on sale at Box 

Office one week in advance. 
CHICAGO, ILL.— Sunday Afternoon at Three o'Clock, 

April 4th. Studebaker Theatre. Seats at Box Office. 
DENVER, COL.— Tuesday Evening, April 6th. Woman's 

Club Hall, Glenam Street. Seats on sale at Business 

Office of "The Denver Post." 
SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.— Sunday Afternoon, at Three 

o'clock, April 11th. Van Ness Theatre, Van Ness Ave. 

Seats on sale at Box Office one week in advance. 

On these Joyous Occasions named above, the Price of Reserved 
Seats will be just Fifty Cents, and no more. The best seats 
will be sold to those Wise Children of Light who first apply 

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the first of a new series by Mr. Lawson, 
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"FRENZIED FINANCE." We have secured 
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A Message to Garcia 

was first printed in The Philistine of March, 1899. The 
merit of the article was instantly recognized, and the 
edition disappeared ^ The article was then reprinted by 
George H. Daniels of the New York Central Lines, and over 
three million copies were distributed. It was also reprinted 
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The sluggard will not plow by reason of the cold ; therefore 
shall he beg in harvest. 

— Proverbs 20:4 

You benefit yourself only as you benefit humanity. 

—James Oliver. 


AMES OLIVER was born in Rox- 
buryshire, Scotland, August the 
28th, 1823. He died March 2nd, 
1908. He was the youngest of a 
brood of eight — six boys and two 
girls t^ He was "the last run of 
shad, " to use the phrase of Theo- 
dore Parker, who had a similar 
honor jf^ Just why the youngest 
should eclipse the rest, as occa- 
sionally happens, is explained by 
Dr. Tilden on the hypothesis that 
a mother gives this last little surprise party an amount of 
love and tenderness not vouchsafed to the rest. 
Let the philosophers philosophize — ^we deal with facts not 
theories, and no one will deny that James Oliver was a 
very potent, huir^an and stubborn fact. He was Scotch. 
ClHis father was a shepherd on a landed estate, where the 
noses of the sheep grew sharp that they might feed between 
the stones. The family was very poor, but poverty in the 
old world grows into a habit, and so the Olivers did not 
suffer. They huddled close for warmth in their little cottage 
and were grateful for porritch and s'leHer. 
In Eighteen Hundred and Thirty, the oldest boy, John, 
filled with the spirit of unrest, tied up all of his earthly 
goods in a red handkerchief and came to America. 
He found work at a dollar a day, and wrote glowing letters 
home of a country where no one picked up faggots for fires, 
but where forests were actually in the way. He also declared 
that he ate at his employer's table, and they had meat three 
times a week. Of course he had meat three times a day, but 


JAM ES ^® ^^ ^'* want to run the risk of being placed in tlie Ananias 

OLIVER ^^^^ ^y telling the truth. ^A little later Andrew and Jane, 

the next in point of age, came too, and slipped at once 

into money-making jobs, piling up wealth at the rate of three 

dollars a week. 

When three of a brood have gone from the home nest, 
they pull hard on the heartstrings of the mother. Women, 
at the last, have more courage than men — ^when they have. 
^ Partnerships are very seldom equal partnerships — one 
takes the lead. In this case the gray mare was the better 
horse, and James Oliver got his initiative from his mother. 
^ **We are all going to America," the mother would say. 
^ And then the worthy shepherd-man would give a hundred 
and fifty reasons why it was impossible. 
He had become pot-bound. Fear and inertia had him by 
the foot. He was too old to try to do anything but care for 
sheep, he pleaded. 

And persistently, as she knitted furiously, the mother would 
repeat, "We are all going to America!" 
Little Jamie was eleven years old. He was a swart and sandy 
little Scot, with freckles, a fidl moon face and a head of 
towsled hair that defied the comb. 

**We are all going to America," echoed Jamie — **we are 
going to America to make our fortunes." 
John, Andrew and Jane had sent back real money — they 
must have earned it. All the debts were cleaned up, and the 
things they had borrowed were returned. The mother took 
charge and sold all the little surplus belongings, and the 
day came when they locked the door of the old stone cottage 
and took the key to the landlord in his big house and left it. 
^ They rode away in a kind neighbor's cart, bound for the sea- 
coast. Everybody cried but Jamie. It was glorious to go away, 
such wonderful things cotdd be seen all along the route. 




^ They took passage in a sailing ship crowded with emigrants. JAMES 
It was a stormy trip. Everybody was sick. Several died, and OLIVER 
there were burials at sea when the plank was tilted and the 
body slid into the yeasty deep. 

Jamie got into trouble once by asking how the dead man 
could ever be found when it came Judgment-day. And 
also the captain got after him with a rope's end because 
he scrambled upon the quarter-deck when the mate went 
aft. The disposition to take charge was even then germinating ; 
and he asked more questions than ten men could answer. 
^Once when the hatches were battened down, and the angry 
waves washed the deck, and the elder Oliver prophesied that 
all were soon going to Davy Jones* locker, Jamie reported 
that the sailors on deck were swearing, and all took courage. 
fl The storm blew over, as storms usually do, and the friendly 
shores of America came in sight. 

There were prayer-meetings on deck, and songs of thanks- 
giving were sung as the ship tacked slowly up the Narrows. 
^ Some of our ancestors landed at Jamestown, some at 
Plymouth Rock and some at Castle Garden. If the last 
named had less to boast of in way of ancestry, they had 
fewer follies to explain away than either of the others. 
They may have fallen on their knees, but they did not fall 
on the aborigines. They were for the most part friendly, 
kind and full of the right spirit — the spirit of helpfulness. 
^ At Castle Garden, one man gave Jamie an orange and 
another man gave him a kick. He never forgot either, and 
would tmdoubtedly have paid both parties back, if he had 
met them in later life. 

There was a trip to Albany by a steamboat, the first our 
friends had ever seen. It burned wood, and stopped every 
few miles for fuel. They ate brown bread and oatmeal, and 
at New York bought some smoked bear's meat and venison. 


JAMES At Albany an Indian sold them sassafras for tea, also some 
OLIVER dried blackberries — it was a regular feast. 

At Albany there was a wonderful invention, a railroad. The 
coaches ran up the hill without horses or an engine, and 
the father explained that it was n't a miracle either. A long 
rope ran around a big wheel at the top of the hill, and there 
was a car ran down the hill as another one ran up. 
The railroad extended to Schenectady — sixteen miles away 
— and the trip was made in less than half a day if the weather 
was good. There they transferred to a canal-boat. They had 
no money to pay for a stateroom, and so camped on deck — 
it was lots of fun. Jamie then and there decided that some 
day he would be the captain of a fast packet on a raging 
canal. His fond hope was never realized. 
After the cooped-up quarters on the ocean the smoothness 
and freedom of the Erie Canal were heavenly. They saw 
birds and squirrels and once caught a glimpse of a wolf. 
At Montezuma they changed canal-boats, because the craft 
they were on went through to Buffalo, and they wished to go 
to Geneva where John, Andrew and Jane were getting rich. 
^ Two miles out of Geneva the boat slowed up, a plank was 
run out and all went ashore. John worked for a farmer a 
mile away. They foimd him. And in the dusty road another 
prayer-meeting was held, when everybody kneeled and 
thanked God that the long journey was ended. Paterfamilias 
had predicted they would never arrive, but he was wrong. 
^ The next day they saw Andrew and Jane, and tears of joy 
were rained down everybody's back. Now for the first time 
they had plenty to eat — meat every meal, potatoes, onions 
and corn on the ear. There is no corn in Scotland, and Jamie 
thought that corn on the ear was merely a new way of cook- 
ing beans. He cleaned off the cob and then sent the stick 
back to have it refilled. 

America was a wonderful cotintry, and Brother John had not 
really half told the truth about it. Jamie got a job at fifty 
cents a week with board. Fifty cents was a great deal more 
than half a dollar — I guess so ! He woxild have been paid more 
only the. farmer said he was a greenhorn and could n*t speak 
English. Jamie inwardly resented and denied both accusa- 
tions, but kept silent for fear he might lose his job. His only 
sorrow was that he could only see his mother once a week. 
His chief care was as to what he should do with his money. 


N the fall of Eighteen Hundred 
and Thirty-six, there were several 
Scotch families going from Geneva 
to the "Far West"— that is to say, 
Indiana. The Oliver family was 
induced to go, too, because in 
Indiana the Government was giv- 
ing away farms to any one who 
would live on them and hold them 
down J> J. 

They settled first in Lagrange 
County, and later moved to Mish- 
awaka, St. Joseph County, where Andrew Oliver had taken 
up his abode. Mishawaka was a thriving little city, made so 
largely by the fact that iron ore — bog iron — was being found 
thereabouts. The town was on the St. Joseph River, right on 
the line of transportation, and boats were poled down and 
up, clear to Lake Michigan. It was much easier and cheaper 
to pole a boat than to drive a wagon through the woods and 


JAMES across the muddy prairies. Mishawaka was going to be a great 
OLIVER *^^*y — everybody said so. ^ There was a good log schoolhouse 
at Mishawaka, kept by a worthy man by the name of Merri- 
field, who knew how to use the birch. Here James went to 
school for just one winter — that was his entire schooling, 
although he was a student and a learner to the day of his death. 
^The elder Oliver fell sick of chills and fever. He sort of 
languished for the hills of bonny Scotlando He could not 
adapt himself to pioneer life, and in the fall of Eighteen 
Hundred and Thirty-seven, he died. This was the end of a 
school education for James — he had to go to work earning 
money. He became the little father of the family, which 
James J. Hill says is the luckiest thing that can happen 
to a boy. He hired out for six dollars a month, and at the 
end of every month took five dollars home to his mother. 
^ Jamie was fourteen, and could do a man's work at most 
anything ^ **He has a man's appetite at least," said the 
farmer's wife, for he took dinner with the man he worked 
for. He soon proved he could do a man's work, too. This 
man had a pole boat on the river, and James was given a 
chance to try his seamanship. He might have settled down 
for life as a poleman, but he saw little chance for promotion, 
and he wanted to work at something that would fit him for 
a better job. Then the worst about life on the river was that 
each poleman was paid a portion of his wages in whiskey, 
and the rivermen seemed intent on drinking the stills dry. 
James not only had a strong desire to be decent, but liked 
to be with decent people. 

Now in Mishawaka there were some very fine folks — the 
family of Joseph Doty, for instance. The Dotys lived in a 
two-story house and had a picket fence. James had dug a 
ditch for Mr. Doty, and split out shingles for a roof for the 
Doty bam. At such times he got his dinner at Doty's, for 

it was the rule then that you always had to feed your help, JAMES 
no matter who they were, just as you feed the threshers OLIVEF 
and harvesters and silo men now. 

About this time, James began to put bear's grease on his 
unruly shock of yellow hair, and tried to part it and bring it 
down in a nice smooth pat on the side. That *s a sure sign ! 
flThe few who noticed the change said it was all on account 
of Susan Doty. Once when Susan passed the johnnycake 
to James, he emptied the whole plate in his lap, to his eternal 
shame and the joy of the whole town, that soon heard of it 
through a talkative hired man who was present and laughed 
uproariously — as hired men are apt to do. 
James once heard Susan say that she did n't like rivermen, 
and that is probably the reason James quit the river, but he 
did n't tell her so — not then at least. 

He got a job in the iron mill and learned to smelt iron, and 
he became a pretty good molder, too. Then the hard times 
came on, and the iron mill shut down. But there was a 
cooper's shop in town, and James was already very handy 
with a drawshave in getting out staves. Most of the men 
worked by the day, but he asked to work by the piece. They 
humored him and he made over two dollars a day. 
Joseph Doty was a subscriber to "Gleason's Pictorial" and 
**Godey's Lady's Book." They also had bound copies of 
"Poor Richard's Almanac" and "The Spectator," with 
nearly forty other books beside. 
James Oliver read them all — with Susan's !ielp. 
Then something terrible happened! The young rolks suddenly 
discovered that they were very much in love v ith each other. 
The Doty family saw it, too, and disapproved. 
The Dotys were English, but as the family had been in 
America for a century, that made a big difference. 
Susan was the handsomest and smartest girl in town — 



everybody said so. She seemed much older tnan James 
Oliver, but the fact was they were of the same age. The 
Doty family objected to the match, but Doty the Elder 
one day dropped a hint that if that young Oliver owned 
a house to take his wife to, he might consider the matter. 
fl[The news reached Oliver. He knew of a man who wanted 
to sell his house, as he was going to move to a town called 
Fort Dearborn — now known as Chicago — that had recently 
been incorporated and had nearly a thousand inhabitants. 
The house was a well built cottage — not very large but big 
enough for two. It was a slab house, with a mud chimney 
and a nice floor of pounded blue clay. It had two rooms, a 
cupboard across the corner, a loft to store things in, and forty 
wooden pegs to hang things on. The owner was going away 
and would sell the house for twenty dollars and throw in 
the lot — which was really worth nothing, because there was 
so much out-of-doors to spare in Indiana at that time. 
^Oliver offered the man eighteen dollars for the mansion, 
cash down. The offer was accepted, the money paid and the 
receipt was duly shown to Joseph Doty, Esq. 
And so James and Susan were married on May the Thirtieth, 
Eighteen Hundred and Forty-four, and all Mishawaka gave 
them a " shower. " To say that they lived happily ever 
afterward would be trite, but also it would be true. 


AMES OLIVER was thirty-two 
years old before he really struck 
his pace. He had worked at the 
cooper's trade, at molding and 
farming ^ ^ 

His twenty-dollar house at Mish- 
awaka had transformed itself into 
one worth a thousand, fully paid 
for. The God's half -acre had become 
a quarter-section. 
His wife had beauty and compe- 
tence, two things which do not 
always go together jfc She was industrious, economical, 
intelligent and ambitious. She was a helpmeet in all that 
the word implies. The man whose heart is at rest is the only 
one who can win. Jealousy gnaws. Doubt disrupts. But love 
and faith mean sanity, strength, usefulness and length of 
days. The man who succeeds is that one who is helped by 
a good woman. 

Two children had come to them. These were Joseph D. 
and Josephine. Napoleon was always a hero to James Oliver 
— his courage, initiative and welling sense of power, more 
than his actual deeds, were the attraction. The Empress 
Josephine was a better woman than Napoleon was a man, 
contended Susan. Susan was right and James acknowledged 
it, so the girl baby was named Josephine. The boy was named 
Joseph, in honor of his grandfather Doty who had passed 
away; but who, before his passing, had come to see that 
Nature was nearer right than he had been. 
Children should exercise great care in the selection of their 
parents. Very, very few children are ever dowered with a 
love that makes for strength of head, hand and heart, as 
were these. §In Eighteen Hundred and Fifty-five, James 



JAMES Oliver was over to South Bend, a town that had started up a 
OLIVER few miles down the river from Mishawaka, and accidentally 
met a man who wanted to sell his one-fourth interest in a 
foimdry. He would sell at absolutely inventory value. They 
made an inventory and the one-fourth came to just eighty- 
eight dollars and ninety-six cents. Oliver had a hundred 
dollars in his pocket, and paid the man at once. 
Cast-iron plows formed one item of this little foundry's 
work. Oliver, being a farmer, knew plows — and knew that 
there was not a good plow in the world. Where others saw 
and accepted, he rebelled. He insisted that an approximately 
perfect plow could be made. He realized that a good plow 
should stay in the grotmd without wearing out the man 
at the handles. 

The man who has n't been jerked up astride of plow handles 
or been flung into the furrow by a balky plow has never had 
his vocabulary tested. 

Oliver had a theory that the plow should be as light in weight 
as was consistent with endurance and good work, and that a 
moldboard shotdd scour, so as to turn the soil with a singing 
sound; then the share, or cutting edge, must be made 
separate from the moldboard so as to be easily and cheaply 
replaced. A plow could be made that need n't be fought to 
keep it furrow-wise. 

Without tiring the reader with mechanical details, let the 
fact be stated that after twelve years of experimenting — 
planning, dreaming, thinking, working, striving, often 
perplexed, disappointed and ridiculed — James Oliver perfected 
his Chilled Plow. He had a moldboard nearly as bright as a 
diamond and about as hard, one that "sang" at its work. 
Instead of a dead pull, **it sort of sails through the soil," 
a surprised farmer said. To be exact, it reduced the draft 
on the team from twenty per cent to one-half, depending 

upon the nature of the soil. It was the difference between 
pulling a low-wheel lumber wagon, and riding in a buggy 
with your girl. Then the old share, if worn, could be replaced 
by the farmer himself, without even calling on the local 
blacksmith J^ ^ 

From this on, the business grew slowly, steadily, surely. 
James Oliver anticipated that other plow-wise Scot, Andrew 
Carnegie, who said, "Young man, put all of your eggs in 
one basket and then watch the basket." 
On this policy has the Oliver Chilled Plow Works been built 
up and maintained, until the plant now covers seventy-five 
acres, with a floor space of over thirty acres and a capacity of 
over half a million plows a year. The enterprise supplies bread 
and butter to over twenty thousand mouths, and is without a 
serious rival in its chosen field. If the horse tribe could speak, 
it would arise and whinny paeons to the name of Oliver, 
joining in the chorus of farmers. For a moldboard that 
always scours gives a peace to a farmer like unto that given 
to a prima donna by a dress that fits in the back. 


HILE James Oliver was not a 
distinctively religious man, yet 
many passages of Scripture that 
he had learned at his mother's 
knee clung to him through his 
long life and leaped easily to his 
tongue. One of his favorite and 
oft quoted verses was this from 
Isaiah, **And they shall beat their 
swords into plowshares, and their 
spears into pnming-hooks : nation 
shall not lift up sword against 

nation, neither shall they learn war any more. " 


JAMES The Big Idea of chilled metal for the moldboard of a plow, 
OLIVER probably had its germ in the mind of James Oliver from this 
very passage of Scripture. 

"When Cincinnatus left his plow in the field to go in defense 
of his country, his excuse was the only one that could pardon 
such a breach, " he once said. 

Oliver hated war; his bent was for the peaceful arts — that 
which would give fruits and flowers and better homes for the 
people ; love, joy and all that makes for the good of women 
and children and those who have lived long. James Oliver 
loved old people and he loved children. He realized that the 
awful burdens and woes of war fall on the innocent and the 
helpless. And so the business of converting sword metal into 
plow metal made an appeal to him. Being a metal-worker 
and knowing much of the history of the metals, he knew of 
the "Toledo blade" — that secret and marvellous invention 
with its tremendous strength, keen cutting edge and lightness. 
To make a moldboard as finely tempered in its way as a 
"Toledo blade," was his ambition. 

He used to declare that the secret of the sword makers of 
old Toledo in Spain was his secret, too. Whether this was 
absolutely true is not for us to question; perhaps a little 
egotism in a man of this character should be allowable. 
Cast-iron plows, as well as the steel plows of that date, 
were very heavy, wore out rapidly — the metal being soft — 
and did n*t "scour, " excepting in the purer sands and gravels. 
The share and moldboard quickly accumulated soil, and 
increased the "draft," forced the plow out of the ground, 
destroyed the regularity of the furrows, killed the horses 
and the temper of the farmer. Every few minutes the plowman 
had to scrape off the soil from the moldboard with his 
boot-heel, or stick, or paddle. 

When a local rival fitted out a plow with a leather pocket 

tacked on to his plow-beam, and offered to give a paddle JAMES 
with every plow, James Oliver laughed aloud. **I give no OLIVER 
paddles, because I do not believe in them, either for punish- 
ment or plow use — my plows and my children do not need 
paddles, '' was his remark. 

The one particular thing — the Big Idea — in the Oliver Plow 
was the chilled moldboard. Chilling the iron, by having a 
compartment of water adjoining the casting clay, gives a 
temper to the metal that can be attained in no other way. 
To produce a chilled moldboard was the one particular 
achievement of James Oliver. Others had tried it, but the 
sudden cooling of the metal had caused the moldboard to 
warp and lose its shape, and all good plowmen know that 
a moldboard has to have a form as exact in its way as the 
back of a violin, otherwise it simply pushes its way through 
the ground, gathering soil and rubbish in front of it, until 
horses, lines, lash and cuss words drop in despair, and give 
it up. The desirable and necessary thing was to preserve the 
exact and delicate shape^of the moldboard so that it would 
scour as bright as a new silver dollar in any soil, rolling and 
tossing the dirt from it. QAn Oliver moldboard has little 
checkerboard lines across it. These come from marks in the 
mold, made to allow the gas to escape when the metal is 
chilled, and thus all warping and twisting is prevented. 
Morse, in inventing the telegraph key, worked out his miracle 
of dot and dash in a single night. The thought came to him 
that electricity flowed in a continuous current, and that by 
breaking or intercepting this current, a flash of light could 
be made or a lever moved. Then these breaks in the current 
could stand for letters or words. It was a very simple propo- 
sition, so simple that men marveled that no one had ever 
thought of it before. 

Watt's discovery of the expansive power of steam was made 


JAMES 111 watching the cover of his mother's teakettle vibrate jt 
OLIVER Gutenberg^s invention of printing from movable type, Ark- 
w^'ght with his spinning- jenny and Eli Whitney with his 
cotton-gin, worked on mechanical principles that were very 
simple — after they were explained. Exactly so! 
Oliver's invention was a simple one, but tremendously effective . 
When we consider that one-half of our population is farmers, 
and that sixty per cent of the annual wealth of the world is 
the production of men who follow the fresh furrow, we see 
how mighty and far-reaching is an invention that lightens 
labor, as this most efficient tool certainly does. 
Accidentally, I found an interesting item on page two hundred 
and seventy-six, of the Senate Report of the Forty-fifth Con- 
gress. Mr. Coffin, statistician, was testifying as an expert on the 
value of patents to the people. Mr. Coffin says, "My estimate 
h that for a single year, if all of the farmers in the United 
States had used the Oliver Chilled Plows, instead of the 
regular steel or iron plow, the saving in labor would have 
totaled the sum of forty-five million dollars." 
When the papers announced the passing of James Oliver 
some of them stated that, "He was probably the richest 
man in Indiana." This fact, of itself, would not make him 
worthy of the world's special attention. There are two things 
we want to know about a very rich man: How did he get 
his wealth? and. What is he doing with it? But the fact that 
wealth was not the end or aim of this man, that riches came 
to him merely as an incident of human service, and that his 
wealth was used to give paying employment to a vast army 
of workmen, makes the name of Oliver one that merits 
our remembrance. 

James Oliver worked for one thing and got another. 
We lose that for which we clutch. The hot attempt to secure 
a thing sets in motion an opposition which defeats us. All 

the beautiful rewards of life come by indirection, and are 
the incidental results of simply doing your work up to your 
highest and best. The striker, with a lust for more money 
and shorter hours, the party who wears the face off the clock 
and the man with a continual eye on the pay envelope, all 
have their reward — and it is mighty small. Nemesis with 
her barrel stave lies in wait for them around the corner. 
They get what is coming to them. 


AMES OLIVER was the inventor of 
an implement which is supplied 
to the user at a moderate cost Ji> 
This tool — one particular pattern 
of Oliver Plow — has been made for 
over forty years, better finished and 
lightened possibly, but unchanged 
in style and design. This plow has 
been used and is still being used 
in every corner of the wide world 
where men tickle the soil that it 
may laugh a harvest. Hundreds 
of attempts have been made to improve on this plow, to change 
or modify it. Oliver himself tried to revise it, but the so-called 
improvements were eliminated by time and the plow reverted 
to type. And it remains to-day the biggest seller in the plow 
world. Elderly men come now to buy this plow that they 
used in boyhood and refuse to take any other. In fact, the 
present writer recently bought one of these plows — an exact 
duplicate of one he used in McLean County, Illinois, in 1869. 


JAMES The idea of this plow sprang from the brain of James Oliver 
OLIVER ^s Minerva sprang from the brain of Jove, full armed. Its tests 
for eflBlciency and endurance have been the most searching 
possible. It has been used by three generations of men, and 
to-day the Oliver Chilled Plow Works are producing seven 
times as many chilled plows as their largest competitor. 
The Olivers have never been in a "trust" or "combine." 
And moreover, they will never lend themselves to any trust 
in the future. This is their determined and unalterable policy. 
Their goods are sold in the open market, in competition with 
many other manufacturers — the field is a free one. And not 
even their most prejudiced competitor has ever accused them 
of coercing the consumer, of banking on his necessities, or 
of oppressing labor. 

When James Oliver was last approached on this theme, after 
the matter had been pushed upon his attention several times 
with various and sundry tempting offers to put the Plow 
Works into a "Community of Interest," or what is vulgarly 
called a Trust, he replied, "I do not care for your money, 
neither do I nor my family wish to go out of business. We 
are not looking for ease or rest or luxury. I love this insti- 
tution, and if I go into this combine, granting I will make 
more money than now, what is to prevent your shutting 
down these works and throwing all these people who have 
worked for me all these years out of employment? And how 
would that affect this city which has been my home and 
the home of those I love? No, sir, your talk of more money 
and less responsibility means nothing to me. I want my 
children to always feel the stress and strain of work, and 
never to forget the burdens of life, in order that they may 
respect the burdens of others. To be free to come and go 
is death — morally and mentally, if not financially. Not only 
do the Olivers run this business to make good plows, but 

they run it for the economic and educational good of them- j a m F q 
selves, and of all the great Oliver Family who make Oliver ^ , i v F P 
Plows and who follow in fresh furrows behind them. So you 
see, gentlemen, how little your argument is worth as regards 
more money, greater ease and less responsibility. And if it 
ever comes to a show-down, I '11 take less money and more 
work, rather than greater ease and more money. That is 
the Oliver Policy — more work and work for everybody who 
wants to work. Next, more plows, and if it is possible, better 
plows. And as for the money part, that will take care of 
itself.'' And this same sentiment has since been repeated 
by Joseph D. Oliver. 

The Oliver fortune is founded on reciprocity. James Oliver 
was a farmer — in fact it was the joke of his friends to say 
that he took as much pride in his farming as in his manufac- 
turing. Mr. Oliver considered himself a farmer, and regarded 
every farmer as a brother or partner to himself. "I am a 
partner of the farmer, and the farmer is a partner of Nature, " 
he used to say. He always looked forward to the time when 
he would go back to the farm and earn his living by tilling 
the soil. He studied the wants of the farmer, knew the value 
of good roads, of fertilizers, drainage, and would argue long 
and vigorously as to the saving in plowing with three horses 
instead of two, or on the use of mules vs. horses. He loved 
trees, and liked to plant them himself and encouraged boys 
to plant them ^ He had positive views as to the value of 
Clydesdales compared with Percherons. 
So did he love the Clydes that for many years he drove a 
half-breed, shaggy-legged and flat-tailed plow horse to a 
buggy, and used to declare that all a good Clyde really 
needed was patience in training to make him a race-horse. 
He used to declare the horse he drove could trot very fast, 
— "if I would let him out." Unhappily he never let him out, 


JAMES but the suspicion was that the speed limit of the honest nag 
OLIVER was about six miles an hour, with the driver working his 
passage. Ayrshire cattle always caught his eye, and he 
would stop farmers in the field and interrogate them as to 
their success in cattle breeding. When told that his love for 
Ayrshire cattle was only a prejudice on account of his love 
for Robert Burns, who was born at Ayr, he would say " A mon 's 
a mon for a' that.'* He declared that great men and great 
animals always came from the same soil, and that where you 
could produce good horses and cattle you could grow great men. 
Mr. Oliver was always devising ways to benefit and brighten 
the lives of families on the farms. 

For music he cared little, yet during the seventies and 
eighties he had a way of buying "Mason and Hamlin" 
organs, and sending them as Christmas presents to some of 
his farmer friends where there were growing girls. "A sewing- 
machine, a Mason and Hamlin organ, and an Oliver Plow 
form a trinity of necessities for a farmer," he once said. 
^ When Orange Judd first began to issue his "Rural Amer- 
ican, " the enterprise received the hearty interest and support 
of Mr. Oliver and he subscribed for hundreds of copies. 
He thought that farmers should be the most intelligent, 
the most healthy and the happiest people on earth — nothing 
was too good for a farmer. "Your business men are only 
middlemen — the farmer digs his wealth out of the ground, " 
he used to say. He quoted Brigham Young's advice to the 
Mormons, "Raise food products and feed the miners and 
you will all get rich. But if you mine for gold and silver, 
a very few will get rich, and the most of you will die poor. " 


here is the point, James Oliver 
was more interested in industri- 
alism than in finance. His interest 
in humanity arose out of his desire 
to benefit humanity, and not a 
wish to exploit it. 
If that is not a great lesson for 
the young, as well as old, then 
write me down as a soused gurnet. 
^ The gentle art of four-flushing 
was absolutely beyond his ken. He 
was like those South Sea Islanders 
told of by Robert Louis Stevenson, who did n't know enough 
to lie, until after the missionaries came, when they partially 
overcame the disability. 

James Oliver did n*t know enough to lie. He knew only one 
way to do business, and that was the simple, frank, honest 
and direct way. That great New York politician whose shib- 
boleth was, **Find your sucker, play your bucker, land your 
sucker — and then beat it, " would have been to him hope- 
less Choctaw. 

To sell a man a plow at a price beyond its worth, or to sell 
a man anything he did not need, was to him a calamity 
for the seller, just as it was for the buyer. 
His ambition was to make a better plow than any other living 
man could make, and then sell it at a price the farmer could 
afford to pay J^ His own personal profit was a secondary mat- 
ter. In fact, at board meetings, when ways and means were 
under discussion, he would break in and display a mold- 
board, a coulter or a new clevis, with a letter from Farmer 
John Johnson of Jones' Cross Roads, as to its efficiency. 
Then when the board did not wax enthusiastic over his new 
toy he would slide out and forget to come back. His heart 



JAMES was set on making a better tool, at less expense to the 

OLIVER consumer, than the world had ever seen. Thus would he 

lessen labor and increase production. So beside great talent 

he had a unique simplicity, which often supplied smiles for 

his friends. 

James Oliver had a warm sort of feeling for every man who 
had ever held the handles of an Oliver Plow — he regarded 
such an one as belonging to the great family of Olivers. 
He believed that success depended upon supplying a com- 
modity that made the buyer a friend ; and Heaven, to him, was 
a vast County Fair, largely attended by farmers, where exhibi- 
tions of plowing were important items on the program. 
Streets paved with gold were no lure for him. 
In various ways he resembled William Morris, who when 
asked what was his greatest ambition, answered, "I hope 
to make a perfect blue, " and the dye on his hands attested 
his endeavors in this line. 

Both were workingmen, and delighted in the society of 
toilers. They lived like poor men, and wore the garb of 
mechanics. Neither had any use for the cards, curds and 
custards of what is called polite society. They hated hypoc- 
risy, sham, pretense, and scorned the soft, the warm, the 
pleasant, the luxurious. They liked stormy weather, the 
sweep of the wind, the splash of the rain and the creak of 
cordage. They gloried in difficulties, reveled in the opposition 
of things and smiled at the tug of inertia. In their mltures 
was a granitic outcrop that defied failure. It was the Anglo- 
Saxon, with a goodly cross of the Norse, that gave them 
this disdain of danger, and made levitation in their natures 
the supreme thing — not gravitation. 

The stubbornness of the Scot is an inheritance from his 
Norse forbears, who discovered America five himdred years 
before Columbus turned the trick. These men were well 

called the "Wolves of the Sea." About the year One Thou- JAMES 
sand, a troop of them sailed up the Seine in their rude but OLIVER 
staunch ships. The people on the shore seeing these strange 
giants, their yellow hair flying in the wind, called to them, 
** Where are you from, and who are your masters?" 
And the defiant answer rang back over the waters, "We 
are from the round world, and we call no man master." 
fl James Oliver called no man mastero Yet with him, the 
violent had given way to the psychic and mental. His battle- 
ground was the world of ideas. The love of freedom he im- 
bibed with his mother's milk. It was the thing that prompted 
their leaving Scotland. 

James Oliver had the defect of his qualities. He was essen- 
tially Cromwellian. He too would have said, "Take away 
that bauble ! " He did not look outside of himself for help. 
Emerson's essay on "Self -Reliance" made small impression 
on him, because he had the thing of which Emerson wrote. 
His strength came from within, not without. And it was this 
dominant note of self-reliance which made him seem in- 
different to the strong men of his own town and vicinity. 
It was not a contempt for strong men, it was only the natural 
indifference of one who called no man master. 
He was a big body himself, big in brain, big in initiative, 
big in self-suflaciency. 

He could do without men; and there lies the paradox — ^if 
you would have friends you must be able to do without 
them. James Oliver had a host of personal friends, and he 
also had a goodly list of enemies, for a man of his tempera- 
ment does not trim ship. He was a good hater. He hugged 
his enemies to his heart with hoops of steel, and at times 
they inspired him as soft and mawkish concession never 
could. And well could he say, "A little more grape. Captain 
Bragg." Also, "We love him for the enemies he made." 


JAMES He had a beautiful disdain tor society — society in its Smart 
O L I.V E R Set sense. He used to say, "In ordei to get into Heaven you 
have to be good and you have to be dead, but in order to get 
into society you do not have to be either." 
Exclusion and caste were abhorrent to him. 
Oliver gave all, and doing so he won all in the way of fame 
and fortune that the world has to offer. His was a full, free, 
happy and useftxl life. Across the sky in letters of light I 
would write these words of James Oliver: TO BENEFIT 

ANGWILL has written it down in 
fadeless ink that Scotland has pro- 
duced three bad things: Scotch 
humor, Scotch religion and Scotch 
whiskey. James Oliver had use for 
only one of the commodities just 
named — and that was humor jt 
Through his cosmos ran a silver 
thread of quiet chuckle that added 
light to his life and endeared him 
to thousands. Laughter is the sol- 
vent for most of our ills! 
All of his own personal religion — and he had a deal of it — 
was never saved up for Sunday; he used it in his business. 
But James Oliver was a Scotchman and, this being so, the 
fires of his theological nature were merely banked. When 
Death was at the door an hour before his passing, this hardy 
son of heath and heather, of bog and fen and bleak north 

wind, roused himself from stupor and in his deep, impressive 
voice, soon to be stilled forever, startled the attendants by 
the stern order, **Let us Pray!" Then he repeated slowly 
the Lord^s Prayer, and with the word **Amen," sank back 
upon his pillow to arise no more. 

For Scotch whiskey he had less use than he had for Scotch 
religion. He cursed the stuff in good, stiff, unco words, that 
were not always to be found in Webster's Unabridged. 
For the occasional drimken workman, he had terms of pity 
and sentences of scorn in alternation. At such times the 
Scotch burr would come to his lips, and the blood of his 
ancestors would tangle his tongue. 

One of his clerks once said to me, "As long as Mr. James 
talks United States, I am not alarmed, but when he begins 
to roll it out with a burr on his tongue, as if his mouth were 
full of hot mush, I am scared to death. " 
It shotild be here explained that there were two of these 
Olivers, "Mr. James" and "Mr. Joseph D. " — ^father and son. 
And there be many good men and discerning who aver 
that without the son, the father would not have come into 
the lime-light, and that the greatest achievement of James 
Oliver was not tho Oliver Chilled Plow, but Joseph D. 
Oliver, still happily unchilled. 




N Eighteen Hundred and Ninety- 
three, James Oliver spent several 
months at the Chicago Exposition. 
He was one of the World's Fair 

Hundreds of people shook hands 
with him daily. He was a com- 
manding figure, with personality 
plus. No one ever asked him, any 
more than they did old Doctor 
Johnson, "Sir, are you anybody 
in particular?" He was some- 
body in particular, all over and all of the time. 
That story about how the stevedores on the docks in Liverpool 
turned and looked at Daniel Webster and said, "There goes 
the King of America, " has been related of James Oliver. He 
was a commanding figure, with the face and front of a man 
in whom there was no parley. He was a good man to agree 
with. In any emergency, even up to his eightieth year, he 
would have at once taken charge of affairs by divine right. 
His voice was the voice of command. 
So there at Chicago he was always the center of an admiring 
group. He was Exhibit A of the Oliver Plow Works Exhibition 
and yet he never realized it. One day, when he was in a par- 
ticularly happy mood, and the Scotch burr was delightfully 
apparent, as it was when he was either very angry or very 
happy, an elderly woman pushed her way through the throng 
and seizing the hand that ruled the Oliver Plow Works in 
both of her own, said in ecstatic tones, "Oh! it is such a joy 
to see you again. Twenty years ago I used to hear you preach 
every Sunday ! '* ^ For once, James Oliver was undone. He 
hesitated, stammered and then exclaimed in flat contradic- 
tion, "Madam, you never heard me preach I" 

* * Why, are n't you Robert Collyer — the Rev. Robert Collyer? *• JAMES 
^ "Not I, madam. My name is Oliver, and I make plows,'* OLIVER 
was the proud reply. 

That night Oliver asked his trusted helper. Captain Nicar, 
this question, "I say, Nicar, who is this man Collyer — that 
woman was the third person within a week who mistook me 
for that preacher. I don't look like a dominie do I, Captain? " 
^ And then Captain Nicar explained Tyhat Mr. Oliver had 
known, but which had temporarily slipped his mind — that 
Robert Collyer was a very great preacher, a Unitarian who 
had graduated out of orthodoxy, and who in his youth had 
been a blacksmith. ^ "Why did n't he stay a blacksmith, 
if he was a good one, and let it go at that?" 
But this Nicar couldn't answer. However, the very next day- 
Robert Collyer came along, piloted by Marshall Field, and 
Oliver had an opportunity to put the question to the man 
himself J^ J> 

Robert Collyer was much impressed by Mr. Oliver, and Mr. 
Oliver declared that Mr. Collyer was not to blame for his 
looks. And so they shook hands. 

Collyer was at Chicago to attend the Parliament of Religions, 
This department of the great Exposition had not before espec- 
ially appealed to Oliver — machinery was his bent. But now he 
forgot plows long enough to go and hear Robert Collyer 
speak on, "Why I am a Unitarian." 

After the address Mr. Oliver said to Mr. Collyer, "Almost thou 
persuadest me to be a Unitarian. " 

"Had you taken to the pulpit, you would have made a great 
preacher, Mr. Oliver," said Mr. Collyer. 
"And if you had stuck to your bellows and forge you might 
have been a great plow maker, " replied Mr. Oliver, — "and 
it 's lucky for me you did n't. " 

"Which is no pleasantry," replied Mr. Collyer, "for if I had 


JAMES made plows I would, like you, only have made the best." 
OLIVER fl"Mr. Oliver, I wish you would make me a mental mold- 
board that will cause my ideas to scour and thus reduce the 
draft on my ego, " once said Mr. Collyer. 
**I think you have a mighty good outfit for stirring up the 
spiritual soil, as it is, " replied Oliver. 

The Oliver Exhibit at the great Fair, was a kind of meeting 
place for a group of such choice spirits as Philip D. Armour, 
Sam Allerton, ** Higginbotham Himself," Clark E. Carr 
and [oseph Medill ; and then David Swing, Robert 
Collyer, Dr. Frank Gunsaulus and 'Gene^Field were added 
to the coterie. 'Gene Field's column of "Sharps and Flats" 
used to get the benefit of the persiflage. 
Collyer and Oliver were born the same year — Eighteen Hun- 
dred and Twenty -three. Both, had the same magnificent 
health, the same high hope and courage that never falters, 
and either would have succeeded in anything into which he 
might have turned his energies. 

Chance made Oliver a mechanic and an inventor. He evolved 
the industrial side of his nature. Chance also lifted Collyer 
out of a blacksmith shop, and tossed him into the pulpit. 
^ Collyer was born in Yorkshire, but his ancestors were 
Scotch. Oliver's mother's name was Irving, and the Irvings 
appear in the Collyer pedigree, tracing to Edward Irving, 
that strong and earnest preacher who played such a part in 
influencing Tammas the Titan, of Ecclefechan. Whether 
Oliver and Collyer ever followed up their spiritual rela- 
tionship to see whether it was a blood tie, I do not know 
— probably not, since both, like all superbly strong men, 
have a beautiful indifference to climbing geneological trees. 
fl I once heard Robert Collyer speak in a sermon of James 
Oliver as **a transplanted thistle evolved into a beautiftd 
flower," and "the man of many manly virtues." 

Seemingly Mr. Collyer was unconscious of the fact that in JAMES 

describing Mr. Oliver, he was picturing himself. Industry, OLIVER 

economy, the love of fresh air, the enjoyment of the early 

morning, the hatred of laziness, shiftlessness, sharp practice 

and all that savors of graft, grab and get-by-any-means — 

these characteristics were strong in both. And surely Robert 

Collyer was right — if the world ever produces a race of noble 

men, that race will be founded on the simple virtues, upon 

which there is neither caveat nor copyright, the virtues 

possessed by James Oliver in such a rare and rich degree. 

EORGE H. DANIELS, of the New 
York Central Railroad and James 
Oliver were close, personal friends. 
Both were graduates of the Uni- 
versity of Hard Knocks, both 
loved their Alma Mater. 
When Daniels printed that literary 
trifle, "A Message to Garcia," he 
sent five thousand copies to Oliver, 
who gave one to every man in his 
factory ^ J(> 

Daniels was one of the lUini, and 
had held the handles of an Oliver Plow. He had seen the great 
business of the Olivers at South Bend evolve. Oliver admired 
Daniels, as he did any man who could do big things in a big 
way. Daniels had an exhibition of locomotives and passenger 
cars at the Chicago Exposition, and personally spent muca 
time there. Among the very interesting items in the New 


JAMES York Central's exhibit was the locomotive that once ran 
OLIVER ^T^om Albany to Schenectady, when that streak of strap iron 
rust, sixteen miles long, constituted the whole of the New 
York Central Railroad; and this locomotive, the "Dewitt 
Clinton," had been the entire motor equipment, save two 
good mules used for switching purposes. 
Oliver and Daniels stood side by side looking at the quaint 
curiosity, the direct ancestor of old **999." **You own the 
teakettle, George, but I 've got the start of you — I rode 
behind the thing as a paid passenger in Eighteen Himdred 
and Thirty-five," said Oliver to Daniels. 
And this was an actual fact; the Oliver family had ridden 
over the road on their way from Scotland to the West. 
It was during the Exposition that Oliver incidentally told 
Daniels about how he had been mistaken for the Rev. 
Robert CoUyer. 

**I can sympathize with you," said Daniels, "for the plague 
of my life is a preacher who looks like me. Only last week 
I was stopped on the street by a man who wanted me to go 
to his house and perform a marriage ceremony." 
**And you punched his ticket?" asked Oliver. 
**No, I accepted and sent for the sky-pilot to do the job, and 
the happy couple never knew of the break." 
The man who so closely resembled Daniels was Rev. Dr. 
Thomas R. Slicer of Buffalo, an eminent clergyman now 
in New York City. Besides other points of resemblance, the 
one thing that marked them as twins was a beautiful red 
chin whisker, about the color of an Irish setter. Once 
Daniels challenged the reverend gentleman to toss up to 
see who should sacrifice the lilacs. Dr. Slicer got tails but 
lost his nerve before he reached the barber's, and so still 
clings to his beauty-mark. 

Dr. Slicer was once going through the Grand Central Station 

when he was approached by a man who struck him for a pass JAMES 

to Niagara Falls. OLIVER 

**I regret," said the preacher, "that I cannot issue you a 

pass to Niagara Falls; all I can do is to give you a pass to 

Paradise. " 

"Which," said Mr. Oliver, when Mr. Daniels told him the 

story, "which was only a preacher's way of telling the man 

to go to hades. You and I, George, express ourselves much 

more simply." 

ITHOUT detracting from the meed 
of praise that is due James Oliver, 
the truth should be stated that 
alone he could never have built 
up or extended this business to 
its present colossal proportions. 
^ The fact that an invention is 
useful and much needed does 
not insure its success. 
For while it is true that only a 
useful invention or appliance can 
at the last succeed, yet the further 
fact remains that because it is good is no sign it will go. 
It will not necessarily succeed any more than moral virtue 
and spiritual beauty will be popular next year at Atlantic 
City and on Fifth Avenue. 

Good things go only when captained by big men. It is a 
question of generalship, or salesmanship. It is a matter of 
marketing your wares. The superior man is not the one 


JAMES who thinks great thoughts, but he who expresses them so 
OLIVER as to give humanity a vibe and a list to starboard. 

Success is voltage imder control — keeping one hand on the 
transformer of your kosmic kilowatts. 
So to the argument: Excellent inventions and mines with 
pay gravel are nil and nit and mox nix ouse, as we say in 
the classics, until a man with phosphorus in his ego takes 
the management and transforms chaos into cosmos. 
We all see big pictures in our dream mirror when drunk on 
art, love, dope or religion, but the boy who puts his picture 
on the canvas and sells it to Col. Pierpont Morgan — he is 
the only one who is really IT. 

So when you tell me of your wonderful invention and want 
to sell me stock in your company, just bring me a snap-shot 
of the man who is going to manage your concern, as well 
as a list of what he eats and drinks, the hours he sleeps and 
how he exercises both his body and sky-piece. 
Then I '11 talk with you about investing. 
While Joseph D. Oliver lacks the picturesque crankiness 
of the older man, he has a mental reach and a judicial 
outlook upon the world which James Oliver never had. He 
is a diplomat, a financier, an organizer. He is a judge of 
men, and never does a thing he can get some one else to do 
for him. Big men succeed through the process of selection. 
Joseph D. Oliver has a wise sense of values, and rare good 
taste as to the eternal fitness of things. He manages men 
without their knowing it. And let this be said, James Oliver 
was big enough to leave all questions of salesmanship and 
finance to his son. For over thirty years, Joseph D. Oliver 
has been the actual working manager of the business. He 
knows every corner and cranny of this vast industry, and 
has the broad, prophetic outlook of a great Captain of 
Industry. He holds the ship safe and true to her course. 

^ The Oliver Opera House and that paragon of hostelriee, JAMES 

"The Oliver Hotel, " were the ideas of James Oliver, mate- OLIVER 

rialized by Joseph D. 

When I was told that James Oliver was the richest man in 

Indiana, I said to myself, "Well, his son is the best ballasted 

man, mentally and physically and spiritually, in Indiana — 

and perhaps in America. '' That sounds like oxaline, I know, 

but the remark is carefully considered. I weigh my words. 

^ When we so often see great wealth coupled with great 

weakness, is it not a satisfaction to find a rich man who is 

moderate in all the affairs of life, who is liberal but not 

lavish, who conserves his nerve-force and who realizes that 

great wealth is a responsibility — a stewardship? 

Joseph D. Oliver is so big and great that he has always 

been quite willing to stand in the shadow. He has not clutched 

for honors ; he has not asked for applause. The sycophant and 

flatterer have never been able to move him. He is an educated 

gentleman in the best sense of the word, and he is also a work- 

ingman. His life is devoted to this great science of business — 

to creation and distribution jt Yet he knows history, loves 

music and literature, delights in Nature, appreciates the plain, 

simple joys of Life and practices the great and manly virtues, 

without which the greatest and richest is something less than 

a man. His family relations are the happiest, sweetest and 

sunniest. He has two sons — ^James and Joseph Doty, jr. — 

fine hearty yotmg men, who are being brought up to work, 

as boys should and must if they would elude the frowns of 

Fate and dodge her Stuffed Club. 

The social and financial bounder may have his use, but I 

do not know what it is unless it be as a microbe of dissolution. 

But of such is not the House of Oliver. 


JAMES |H^S7|^7xpir>5^ISSpl|'^ ^^ ^^* ^^ *° make James Oliver 
OLIVER kf3i/lLN>l/lli\i/WLfs^ out a religious man in a sectarian 

sense J^ He did however have a 
great abiding faith in the Supreme 
Intelligence in which we are bathed 
and of which we are a part. He 
saw the wisdom and goodness of 
the Creator on every hand. He 
loved Nature — the birds in the 
hedgerows and the flowers in 
the field. He gloried in the sun- 
rise, and probably saw the sun 
rise more times than any other man in Indiana. 
"The morning is full of perfume," he used to say. And so 
it is, but most of us need to be so informed. 
He believed most of all in his own mission and in his own 
divinity. Therefore he prized good health, and looked upon 
sickness and sick people with a touch of scorn. He reverenced 
the laws of health as God's Laws, and so he would not put 
an enemy in his mouth to steal away his brains. He used no 
tobacco, was wedded to the daily cold bath and was a regular 
amphibian for splashing. He had a system of calisthenics 
which he followed as religiously as the Mohammedan prays 
to the East. The pasteboard proclivity was not one of his 

But a few months before his death he was missed one day 
at the works. His son thought he would drive out to his farm 
and see if he was there. He was there all right, and had just 
one hundred and twenty-seven men, by actual count, digging 
a ditch and laying out a road. 

James Oliver was n't a man given to explanations, apologies 
or excuses. His working motto usually was that of Rev. Dr. 
Jowett of Baliol, ** Never explain, never apologize — get the 

thing done, and let them howl!" ^ But on this occasion, JAMES 
anticipating a gentle reproach from his son for his extrav- OLIVER 
agance, he said, **A11 right, Joe, all right. You see I 've 
been postponing this tarnashun job for twenty years, and I 
thought I M just take hold and clean it up, because I knew 
you never would!" 

He was let off with a warning, but Joseph had to go behind 
the barn and laugh. 

One thing that was as much gratification to Mr. Oliver as 
making the road, was the sense of motion, action, bustle 
and doing things. He delighted in looking after a rush job, 
and often took charge of "the boys" personally. 
For the men who made the plows, his regard was as great 
as for those who used them. He moved among the men as 
one of them, and while his discipline never relaxed, he was 
always approachable and ready to advise even with the most 
lowly. His sense of justice and his consideration are shown 
in the fact that in all the long years that the Oliver Plow 
Works has existed, it has never once been defendant in a 
lawsuit in their home county, damage or otherwise. 
Thousands of men have been employed and accidents have 
occasionally happened but the unfortunate man and his 
family have always been cared for. Indeed, the Olivers carry 
a pension roll for the benefit of widows, orphans and old 
people, the extent of which is known only to the confidential 
cashier. They do not proclaim their charities with a brass band. 
fl James Oliver thought that a man should live so as to be useful 
all of his days. Getting old was to him a bad habit. He did not 
believe in retiring from business, either to have a good time 
or because you were old and bughouse. "Use your faculties 
and you will keep them, " he used to repeat again and again. 
He agreed with Herbert Spencer that men have softening 
of the brain because they have failed to use that organ. 


JAMES ^^ certainly he proved his theories, for he, himself, was 
OLIVER ^^°® ^^^ sensible to the day of his death. Yet when certain 
of his helpers, bowed beneath the weight of years and life's 
vicissitudes, would become weak and needful of care, he 
would say, "Well, old John has done us good work, and we 
must look after him. " And he did. 

He would have denied that he was either charitable or 
philanthropic; but the fact was that the Golden Rule was 
a part of his business policy, and beneath his brusque outside, 
there beat a very warm and generous heart. 
When the financial panic of Eighteen Hundred and Ninety- 
three struck the country, and dealers were canceling their 
• orders, and everybody was shortening sail, the Olivers kept 
right along manufacturing and stored their product. 
Never have they laid off labor on account of hard times. Never 
have they even shortened hours or pay. This is a record, I 
believe, equaled by no big manufacturing concern in America. 
^ In October, Nineteen Hundred and Seven, when workmen 
were being laid off on every hand, the Olivers simply started 
in and increased their area for the storage of surplus product. 
They had faith that the tide would turn, and this faith was 
founded on the experience of forty years and more in business. 
Said James Oliver, "Man's first business was to till the soil; 
his last business will be to till the soil ; I help the farmer to do 
his work, and for my product there will always be a demand. " 


AMES OLIVER had no fear of j^mES 
death. He had an abiding faith @ L I V E R 
that the Power that cared for him 
here, would never desert him 
there. He looked upon death as 
being as natural as life and prob- 
ably just as good. For the quibbles 
of theology he had small patience. 
"Live right here — wait, and we 
shall know," he used to say. 
When his wife died, in Nineteen 
Hundred and Two, he bore the 
blow like a Spartan. Fifty-eight years had they journeyed 
together. She was a woman of great good sense, and a very 
handsome woman, even in her old age. Her husband had 
always depended on her, telling her his plans and thus clari- 
fying them in his own mind. They were companions, friends, 
chums, lovers — man and wife. After her death he redoubled 
his activities, and fought valiantly to keep from depressing 
the household with the grief that was gnawing at his heart. 
^ A year passed, and one day he said to his son, **Joe, I 
do miss your mother awfully — ^but then I '11 not have to 
endure this loneliness forever!" 

And this was as near a sign of weakness as he ever showed. 
^ A woman once came to Mr. Oliver soliciting subscriptions 
for some sort of doubtful charity. She was so persistent, that 
to get rid of her Mr. Oliver took out of his pocket a silver 
dollar and pushed it across the desk to her. 
With lofty contempt the woman said, "I have no use for 
such an insignificant sum." 

And with great courtesy, Mr. Oliver replied, "Madam, I 
have," and promptly picked up the dollar and put it back 
in his pocket. 


#!i 1 T VK* p ^® ^^^ neither a miser nor a spendthrift. He always knew 
O L 1 V t. K ^j^g value of a dollar, and always his earnest desire was to 
so invest his money that it would add to the business pros- 
perity of the community, and in fact the whole coimtry. 
^ James Oliver was a successful man, but it was not always 
smooth sailing. In the early days the Plow Plant caught fire 
at night and was absolutely consumed ^ Returning home 
at three o'clock in the morning, exhausted, and with clothing 
wet and frozen in a sheet of ice, this man sorely kicked by 
an unkind fate, turned a chair over on the floor before the 
fireplace, and reclining on it, there with eyes closed, endeav- 
ored to forget the trying scenes of the night. 
Mrs. Oliver had made coffee and prepared a simple breakfast 
for the tired man. But rest was never for her or her family 
when there was pressing^ work demanding attention. 
** James, why are you wasting time! Drink this coffee, put 
on these dry clothes and go at once before daylight and order 
lumber and brick so the men can begin at seven o'clock to 
rebuild. We have orders to fill ! " And the man arousing him- 
self, obeyed the command. At seven o'clock the lumber was on 
the ground and the men were at work preparing to rebuild. 
^ James Oliver was a man of courage, but his patience, 
persistency and unfaltering faith were largely the reflection 
of his wife's soul and brain. When seventy years of age, 
a neighbor once dropped in for a little visit and in conver- 
sation referred to Mr. Oliver's being a rich man. 
"Yes," said this kindly old Spartan, **Yes, they say I am 
rich, but if I didn't have a dollar, I would si ill be rich — 
with a wife like that!" and he pointed to his partner of 
nearly half a century. 

Mrs. Oliver smiled and said chidingly, "Now James!" But 
he continued, "I say, mother, if we did not have a dollar, 
we could still earn our living with our hands at just plain 

hard work, could n't we? " ^ And the old lady (who really . * •• w^. « 
was never old) replied, "Yes, James, we could earn our '^ftj^Z^ ^ 
living with our hands, and we would not be miserable ^ ^ * ^ '^^ 
over it either." 

Near the close of his wonderful career, Pericles said, "I 
have caused no one to wear crepe." The Hon. Marvin 
Campbell, in a speech at South Bend, once quoted this 
remark of the man who built the city of Athens and added, 
"Not only can we pay James Oliver the compliment of saying 
that he never caused any one to wear crepe, but no one ever 
lost money by investing either in his goods or his enterprises, 
and moreover no one ever associated with him who did not 
prosper and grow wiser and better through the association. " 
A few weeks before his passing, some one told him this little 
story of Tolstoy's: A priest, seeing a peasant plowing, ap- 
proached him and said, "If you knew you were to die to- 
night how would you spend the rest of the day?" 
And the peasant promptly answered, "I would plow." 
It seems the priest thought the man would answer, "In 
confession," or "In prayer," or "At church." The priest 
heard the answer in surprise. He thought a moment, and 
then replied, "My friend, you have given the wisest answer 
a man can possibly make, for to plow is to pray, since the 
prayer of honest labor is always answered." 
The story impressed Mr. Oliver. He told it to several people, 
and then made a personal application of it, thus: "If I 
knew I were to die to-night, I would make plows lo-day," 





by Elbert Hubbard in Booklet Form — 
Frontispiece Portrait of Each Subject. 

Frederick Chopin 
Felix Mendelssohn 
Samuel Coleridge 
Benjamin Disraeli 
Mark Antony 
John Wesley 
Henry George 
Thomas Paine 
Richard Cobden 
John Knox 
John Bright 
Robert Owen 

Charles Bradlaugh 

Theodore Parker 

Oliver Crpmvi^ell 

Anne Hutchinson 

Jean Rousseau 





King Alfred 

Friedrich Froebel 

Booker Washington 

Thomas Arnold 



Mary Baker Eddy 

The Price is TEN CENTS Each, or One Dollar 
for Ten — as long as they last. 


East Aurora, Erie County, New York 




I enclose Two Dollars to pay for a yearly 
subscription to THE FRA Magazine. 



CHECK YOUR CHOICE. One of these beautiful 
Roycroft books, gratis, with every subscription for 



The Broncho Book ------ Capt, Jack Crawford 

Woman's Work -------- Alice Hubbard 

Battle of Waterloo -------- Victor Hugo 

White Hyacinths -------- Elbert Hubbard 

TheRubaiyat --------- Omar Khayyam 

A William Morris Book - - - Hubbard and Thomson 
Crimes against Criminals ^ - - - - Robert G. Ingersoll 

A Christmas Carol -------- Charles Dickens 

The Ballad of Reading Gaol ----- Oscar Wilde 

Justinian and Theodora - - * Elbert and Alice Hubbard 



-— OR Nineteen Hundred and Nine, Little Journeys 
by Elbert Hubbard will be to the homes of Great 
Business Men. Mr. Hubbard has been farm-hand, 
ffl office boy, printer's devil, foreman, editor, mana- 
ger, proprietor. He is an economist himself— an economist 
of time, money and materials. Mr. Hubbard is a Farmer; 
he also operates a Bank, a Hotel, a Printing-shop, a Book- 
bindery and a Guinea-hen Garage. 





THE FRA Magazine, Two Dollars a year 
LITTLE JOURNEYS, One Dollar a year 

BOTH FOR TWO DOLLARS if you Subscribe at Once 

The Roycrofters, East Aurora, New York 

I am a writing man and I know the difficulties of the craft; and I say that 
Elbert Hubbard is the greatest writer — vocabulary and range of ideas consid- 
ered — tl\at the world has ever seen, ancient or modern. — ROBERT BARR 
Young writers intent on style can not do better than read Elbert Hubbard. 
He says big things in tabloid.— ALFRED HENRY LEWIS 
Elbert Hubbard is the only man in America who has the English language 
firmly by the tail.— JOAQUIN MILLER 

We are not surprised that Elbert Hubbard's Little Journeys are being introduced 
into our High Schools as text books. FraElbertus writes as he feels and he usually 
feels right. He is more interested in life than in literature ; he is so full of his 
subject that he radiates it. And if he occasionally walks all over our old-time 
rules of rhetoric, we are the gainers. Many a book has been regarded as 
profound when it was only stupid. In his writing, Elbert Hubbard is as vivid 
as Victor Hugo, as rippling as Heinrich Heine, as tender as Jean Paul ; and 
we must remember that the chief charge brought against all of the^e men was 
that they were interesting. Nowadays we do not consider dullness a virtue. We 
shun the turgid and lugubrious. We ask for life.— CHICAGO INTER-OCEAN 

Books by Elbert Hubbard 

Respectability - - - - - $ 2.00 

The Man of Sorrows - - - 2.00 

Love, Life and Work - - - - 2.00 

White Hyacinths - - - - 2.00 

Health and Wealth - - - - 2. 00 
Time and Chance — A Narrative Life of John Brown ; 

350 pages, in limp leather, silk hned - 2.50 

No Enemy But Himself - - - 1.25 

The following LITTLE JOURNEYS are on hand-made paper, hand illumined, 
limp leather, silk lined, illustrated, a very beautiful book (some folks think) 

Little Journeys to Homes of Good Men and Great $ 3.00 

American Authors - - - - 3.00 

Famous Women - - - - 3.00 

American Statesmen - - - 8.00 

Eminent Painters - - - - 3.00 

English Authors, Book 1 - - .. g.oo 

English Authors, Book II - - - 3.00 

Great Musicians, Book I - - - 3.00 

Great Musicians, Book II - - - 8.00 

Eminent Artists, Book I - - - 8.00 

Eminent Artists, Book II - - - 3.00 

Eminent Orators, Book I - - - 3.00 

Eminent Orators, Book II - - - 3.00 

Great Philosophers, Book I - - 3.00 

Great Philosophers, Book II - - 3.00 

Great Scientists, Book I - - - 3.00 

Great Scientists, Book II - - - 3.00 

Great Lovers, Book I - - 3.00 

Great Lovers, Book II - - - 3.00 

Great Reformers, Book I - - - 3.00 

Great Reformers, Book II - - - 8.00 

Great Teachers, Book I - - - 3.00 

Great Teachers, Book II - - - 3.00 

THE ROYCROFTERS, East Aurora, New York 

E who gives us 
better homes, 
better books, 
better tools-^- 
a fairer outlook and a 
wider hope — him will 
we crown with laurel 








■■>>^» V I Kl ^ <f9 V > > V li w * 

Vol. 24 


Ho. 3 


TO THg HQKf g^O=^ 

inE^^ MEH 




^BE^ ^^j^r l!l"!^ ^^ 5^ 

otcputii sur. 

isortF • iriTQ ■ h 



^■^„^EI? IF^OI^riTYI sg SB 


HE law of Nature 
is, that a certain 
quantity of work is 
necessary to pro- 
duce a certain quan- 

tity of good of any kind whatever. 
If you want knowledge, you must 
toil for it; if food, you must toil for it; 
e, you must toil for it 





Entered at the postofflce at East Aurora. New York, for transmisiion as second-clasa matter 
Copyright. 1008, by Elbert Hubbard, Editor and Publisher 



FOR Nineteen Hundred Nine, LITTLE 
JOURNEYS by Elbert Hubbard will be 
to the homes of Great Business Men. Mr. Hub- 
bard has been farm-hand, office-boy, printer's 
devil, foreman, editor, manager, proprietor. He 
is an economist himself — an economist of time, 
money and materials. Mr. Hubbard is a Farmer; 
he also operates a Bank, a Hotel, a Printing 
Shop, a Bookbindery and a Guinea-hen Garage 

Subjects of "Little Journeys" for 1909 







LITTLE JOURNEYS, - One Dollar a Year 
THE ERA Magazine, - Two Dollars a Year 

Both for TWO DOLLARS if you Subscribeat Once 


Health and Wealth 


HEREIN is pleasingly told how to 
be happy — but not too happy — and 
yet be rich ; containing thoughts, 
always sincere and sometimes 

serious, concerning the best methods of 
preventing one from becoming a burden to 
himself, a weariness to his friends, a trial 
to his neighbors and a reflection on his 
Maker. This volume tells of Roycroftism. 
C Roycroftism is here, and it is slowly but 
surely increasing in influence. 
Roycroftism does not claim to be a relig- 
ion — it is a system of life. This system, plan, 
method or habit, does not seek to separate 
religion from work, literature from life, or 
art from play, any more than it would separate 
love from sociology or ethics from finance. 
The price of Health and W5:alth is 
TWO DOLLARS, bound either 
in limp leather or in boards, leather back. 


De Luxe Little Journeys 

€LBERT HUBBARD writes with the freedom 
and enthusiasm of youth. He interests. He 
educates. He inspires. He never takes one round 
and round the bush to a fact. Hubbard magnet- 
izes words. Occasionally he shocks a few of the 
Grandmother Tipsytoe Variety — naturally, but he 
electrifies the many. Q This man's pen is never 
gagged, chained or chloroformed. He thinks big, 
virile, vital thoughts, and as he thinks, he writes. 


Elbert Hubbard's * 'Little Journeys 

to the Homes of Famous People are a treat alike 
to the scholar and sage. Q The following on hand: 

William Morris 





Patrick Henry 



Martin Luther 

Dr. Johnson 


















Sebastian Bach 






Franz Liszt 











Herbert Spencer 




Printed on Holland Hand-Made watermarked paper 
in two colors, very beautiful type, and bound 
scrumptiously for the Elect - - - $1.00 just 



►OU are requested to meet at Mecca 
— otherwise East Aurora — ^July 1st 
to 10th, 1909, inclusive, for Mental 
massage and Spiritual rejuvenation. 
If you can't come, you are ordered 
to shrive yourself at your own cos- 
mic shrine, grant yourself absolution, read the 
'•Essay on Silence" for five minutes night and 
morning, during the dates above named, and 
think well of everybody, including Bok. Hypoc- 
risy, hypo-neurasthenia, false pride and gossip 
germs should be left at home, as the spirit of 
Brotherhood will be supreme and only Good 
immanent. There are two formal services daily, 
afternoon and evening. Tips are tabu, and the 
offertory auskerspiel. The only tariff is for 
room and meals (like those mother used to 
make), the rate being Two Dolodocci a day, and 
up, according to apartments. Reservations can 
be made now J'>Jt>J>J^Jt>J'jf'J>J' 

East Aurora, Erie County, New York 


TO THI= HOhflg513R 




15 s 

NOriF • IMTf>-^ 


sig FR^T- FiiTiTDrm sr sig 

30 SE EmEzsazQia SE Mg 



I DO not value fortune. The love of labor is my sheet- 
anchor. I work that I may forget, and forgetting, I am 
happy. — Stephen Girard. 



K-O' I, 


The character of the people is shown by the regard they 
have for their great men, their heroes and their benefactors. 

HEN we make a census of the 
sensible, and count the competent, 
we cannot leave out the name of 
William Penn. He was the founder 
of the City of Philadelphia, and of 

W -^iiy-\ the great Commonwealth of Penn- 
^P^ sylvania, and gave name and fame 
^fc>43 to both. 

In this respect of being founded by 
an individual, Philadelphia, the 
City of Brotherly Love, and the 
State of Pennsylvania, are unique 
and peculiar in all the annals of American history. 
Yet Philadelphia has no monument of Penn, save the hazy 
figure of a dumpy nobody surmounted by an enormous hat, 
all lost in the incense of commerce upon the topmost pin- 
nacle of the City Hall. 

If Philadelphia has been sky-piloted by her orthodox Wither- 
spoons and Albertsons, by her Converses and Conwells, 
and if they have taught her to love her enemies and then 
hold balances true by hating her friends, let Clio so record, 
for history is no longer a lie agreed upon. In her magnificent 
park and in her public squares Philadelphia has done honor 
in bronze and marble to Columbus, Humboldt, Schubert, 
Goethe, Schiller, Garibaldi and Joan of Arc. But ''Mad 
Anthony Wayne, " and that fearless fighting youth, Decatur, 



are absolutely forgotten. Dr. Benjamin Rush, patriot, the 
near and dear friend of Franklin, and the man who welcomed 
Thomas Paine to Pennsylvania, and gave him a desk where 
he might ply his pen and write the pamphlet, "Common 
Sense, " sleeps in an unknown grave. You will look in vain 
for eflSgies of Edgar Allan Poe, who was once a Philadelphia 
editor; of Edwin Forrest, who lion-like, trod her boards; 
of Ritterhouse, mapping the stars; of Dr. Kane, facing 
Arctic ice and Northern night; of Dr. Evans, who filed and 
filled the teeth of royalty and made dentists popular; of 
Bartram, Gross, or Leidy. Fulton lived here, yet only the 
searcher in dusty, musty tomes knows it, and Benjamin 
West, who founded England's Academy of Painting, is 
honored in Westminster Abbey, but Harrisburg, too busy 
in her great game of grab and graft, knows not his name. 
Robert Morris, who was rewarded for his life of patriotic 
service by two years in a debtor's jail, is still in a cell, the 
key of which is lost — and Sully, Peale, Taylor, Walter and 
Fitch mingle their dust with his. 

Yet all this might be forgiven on the plea that where so 
many names of the strong and powerful bid for recognition, 
to avoid jealousies, a good way is to ignore them all. So 
speaks proud and pious Philadelphia — snug, smug, pros- 
perous, priggish and pedantic Philadelphia. But how about 
these five supremely great names — William Penn, Benjamin 
Franklin, Thomas Paine, Stephen Girard and Walt Whitman i 
^ Oh ! ye Friends, innocent of friendship, will ye forever 
try to smother these by your silence, simply because they 
failed to do theological goose-step on your order, as your 


bum-beadles marked time with their staves? Q Oh ! ye cities 
and nations, cherish, I pray you, the names of your heroes 
in business, art, finance and poetry, for only by them'^and 
through these shall the future know you. Have a care, ye cities ! 
for the treatment that ye accord to these living and to their 
memories, dead, is the record of your heart and brain! 

He who influences the thought of his time, influences the 
thought of all the times that follow. 

Philadelphia Public Library, the 
Philadelphia Hospital, the Phil- 
adelphia Orphan Asylum and the 
University of Pennsylvania. 
Franklin was also much inter- 
ested in good roads, the building 
of canals — steam railroads were 
then, of course, a dream un- 
guessed J> J> 

Girard got his philanthropic im- 
petus from Franklin. Girard had 

watched the progress of the University of Pennsylvania, 

and he had become convinced that it fell short of doing 

the good it might do. It shot too high. 

Franklin had a beautiful contempt for Harvard. He called 



it a: social promotion plan, and thereby got the lasting 
enmity of John Adams and his son, John Quincy Adams, 
and also John Hancock. 

Franklin had hoped to make the University of Pennsylvania 
a different school. But after his death it followed in exactly 
the Harvard lines. It fitted prosperous youth for the pro- 
fessions, but it left the orphan and the outcast to struggle 
with the demons of darkness, discarded and forgotten. Girard 
founded his college with the idea of helping the helpless. 
Thomas Jefferson, also, had impressed Girard greatly. 
Girard once made a trip to Monticello; and had spent two 
days at the University of Virginia. This was really remark- 
able, for time with Girard was a very precious commodity. 
^ Thomas Jefferson was the man who introduced Classic 
Architecture in America. All of those great white pillars 
that front the mansions of Virginia, and in fact the whole 
South, had their germ in the brain of Jefferson, who reveled 
in all that was Greek. Jefferson was a composite of Socrates, 
Plato and Aristotle, and if Socrates were not the first Jeffer- 
sonian Democrat, then who was? 

Socrates dwelt on the rights and virtues of the "demos'* 
— the Common People. Jefferson uses the expression again 
and again and was the one man to popularize the word, 
"Democrat." When Jefferson, wearing his suit of butternut 
homespun, rode horseback up to the Washington Capitol 
and tied his horse and walked over to the office of the Chief 
Justice as President of the United States and took the oath 
of office, his action was essentially Socratic. 
Girard got both his ideals of architecture and education 


from Jefferson. C|Girard was too busy to do much 
original investigation, for he was a very rich man- 
so he did the next best thing, and the thing that all 
wise, busy men do — he picked a few authors and banked 
on them. 

Girard loved Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson and 
Thomas Paine. And one reason why he was drawn to them 
was because they all spoke French, and he had a high regard 
for the French people. Franklin and Jefferson were each 
sent on various important diplomatic missions to France. 
Paine was a member of the French Assembly, and Girard 
never ceased to regret that Paine was saved from the guil- 
lotine by that happy accident of the death messenger chalking 
the inside of his cell door instead of the outside. "If they had 
only cut off his head, he then would have been recorded in 
American schoolbooks as the Hon. Thomas Paine, assis- 
tant Savior of his country, instead of being execrated as Tom 
Paine, the infidel," said Girard. 

In the time of Girard, the names of Franklin, Jefferson and 
Paine were reviled, renounced and denounced by good 
society, and it was in defending these men that Girard 
brought down upon himself the contumely that endures, 
in attenuation, at least, even unto this day. 
Let these facts stand : Franklin taught Girard the philosophy 
of business and fixed in his mind the philanthropic bias. 
^Jefferson taught Girard the excellence of the "demos," 
and at the same time gave him an unforgetable glimpse 
of Greek architecture. 

Paine taught Girard the iniquity and folly of a dogmatic 


Stephen girard 

religion — the religion that was so sure it was right, and so 
certain that all others were wrong that it v/ould, if it could, 
force humanity at point of the sword to accept its standards. 
^ Franklin and Paine were citizens of Philadelphia, and 
Jefferson spent many months there. The pavements that had 
echoed to their tread, were daily pressed by the feet of Girard. 
Their thoughts were his. And when pestilence settled on the 
city like a shadow, and death had marked the doorposts of 
over half the homes in the city with the sign of silence, 
Girard did not absolve himself by drawing a check and send- 
ing it to a committee by mail. Not he! He asked himself, 
"What would Franklin have done under these conditions?** 
And he answered the question by going into the pest-house, 
doing for the stricken, the dying and the dead what the 
pitying Christ would have done had He been on earth. 
Girard believed in humanity, he believed in men as did 
Franklin, Jefferson and Paine, and as did that other great 
citizen of Philadelphia, who, too, was willing to give his 
life in the hospitals that men might live — Walt Whitman. 
^ No one ever called Walt Whitman a financier. Some 
have said that Stephen Girard was nothing else. In any 
event Girard and Whitman, between them, hold averages 
true. And they both believed in and loved humanity. And here 
is a fact : when we make up the composite man — the perfect 
man — taking our human material from American history, 
we cannot omit from our formula Benjamin Franklin,Thoma8 
Jefferson, Thomas Paine, Stephen Girard and Walt Whitman. 



Conquer your grief; or it will conquer you. Conquer your 

grief and Vrno-r thereby that you are a man. 

TEPHEN GIRARD was bom at 
Bordeaux, France, in Seventeen 
Hundred and Fifty. He died at 
Philadelphia in Eighteen Hundred 
and Thirty-one. 

Immediately after his death there 
was printed a book which pur- 
ported to be his biography. It was 
the work of a bank clerk who had 
been discharged by Girard. This 
man had been close enough to his 
employer to lend plausibility to 
much that he had to say, and as the author called himself 
Girard's private secretary, people with prejudices plus, 
pointed to the printed page as authority. The voliune served 
to fill the popular demand for pishmince. It was written with 
exactly the same intent which Cheetham, who wrote his 
"Life of Thomas Paine," brought to bear. The desire was 
to damn the subject for all time. Beside that, it was a great 
business stroke— calumny was made to pay dividends. To 
libel the dead is not, in the eyes of the law, a crime. 
No such book as this **Life of Girard" could ever have 
been circulated about a living man. "Once upon a time an 
ass kicked a lion, but the lion was dead." 
Yet this libelous production was reprinted as late as 
Eighteen Hundred and Ninety. Cheetham's book was 



quoted as an authority on Thomas Paine until the year 
Nineteen Hundred, when Moncure D. Conway's exhaust- 
ive "Life" made the pious prevaricators absurd. 
From being a bitter "infidel," a hater of humanity, grossly 
ignorant and wholly indifferent to the decencies, we now 
view Girard as a lonely and pathetic figure, living out his 
long life in untiring industry, always honest, direct, frank, 
handicapped by physical defects, wistful in his longing for 
love, helpless to express what he felt, with a heart that went 
out to children in a great welling desire to give them what 
fate had withheld from him. 

Stephen Girard's parents were lowly and obscure people. 
They were Catholics. His father was a sailor and fisherman. 
Fear, hate, superstition, ignorance, ruled the household. When 
the father had money it went for strong drink, or to the priest. 
Probably, it would have been as well if the priest had gotten 
it all. The mother went out as servant and worked by the day 
for her more fortunate neighbors. The children cared for each 
other, if the word "care" can be used to express a condition 
of neglect and indifference. 

It might be pleasant to show, if possible, that the mother 
of Stephen Girard had certain tender, womanly qualities, 
but the fact is that none such were ever manifested. If there 
was ever any soft sentiment in her character the fond father 
of his flock had kicked it out of her. That she was usually 
able to hold her own in fair fight was the one redeeming 
memory that the son held concerning her. 
Stephen was the eldest of the brood ^ He attended the 
parochial school and learned to read. His playmates called 


him by a French term meaning ** Twisted." He was eight 
years of age before he realized that the names his mother 
called him by were of contempt and not of endearment — 
"Wall-eye" and "Mud-sucker" — literally the vocabulary of 
a fishwife. Then he knew for the first time that his eyes were 
not like those of other children — that one eye had a bluish 
cast in it and turned inward. That night he cried himself to 
sleep thinking over his dire misfortune. 
At school when he read he closed one eye and this made 
the children laugh. So did their taunts prey upon him that 
he ran away from school to escape their gibes. 
One of the Friars Grey caught him; whipped him before 
the whole school; put a dtmce-cap on his head and stood 
him on a high chair. Then his humiliation seemed complete. 
He prayed for death. At home when he tried to tell his mother 
about his trouble, she laughed, and boxed his ears for being 
a "cry-baby brat." ^ Back in this boy's ancestry, some- 
where, there must have been a stream of gentle blood. He 
was a song-bird in a cuckoo's nest. When the military 
band played, his spirit was so moved that he shed tears. 
But when his mother died, and her body was placed in a 
new board coffin, made by a neighbor who worked in the 
shipyard, he admired the coffin, but could not cry even 
when the priest pinched him and called him hard-hearted. 
He could not cry even with his twisted eye. His mother, as 
a lovable being, had gone out of his life, even before she 
died. He could only think what a beautiful coffin she had 
and what a great man it was who made it. And this man 
who made the coffin gave him a penny — perhaps because the 



boy so appreciated his handiwork. ^ Stephen, unconsciously, 
won him on the side of art. 

It 's a terrible thing to kill love in the heart of a child. That 
popular belief that we are "bom in sin and conceived in 
iniquity," Girard once said, was true in his case, at least. 
^ Yet so wondrous were the works of God, the hate and 
brutality visited upon their child went into the making 
of his strong and self-reliant character. He never said, 
"My mother's religion is good enough for me." He de- 
spised her religion, and that of the Friars Grey who punished 
boys to make them good. His mind turned inward — he 
became silent, secretive, self-centered, and his repulsive 
exterior served him well as a tough husk to hide his finer 
emotions .^ ^ 

In a few months — or was it a few weeks? — after his mother's 
death, the father married again. The stepmother was no 
improvement on the mother. She had lofty ideas of discipline 
and being "minded." No doubt but that little Stephen, 
crooked in eyes, crooked in body, short and swart, with 
brown, bare legs, was stubborn and wilful. He looked the 
part all right. His brown, bare legs were a temptation for 
the stepmother's willow switch. He decided to relieve 
everybody of the temptation of switching his legs by numing 
away to sea and taking his brown, bare legs with him. 
There was a ship at the docks about to sail for the West 
Indies. He could secrete himself among the bales and barrels, 
and once the ship was out of port he would come out and 
take chances on being accepted as cabin-boy. They could 
do no more than throw him overboard, anyway I 


He told his little sisters of his intention. They cried, but 
he did n't. He had n't cried since he was eight years old, and 
his cheerfxil biographer says he never shed a tear afterward, 
and I guess that is so. 

At two o'clock in the morning, he whispered good-bye to 
his little sleeping sisters. He did not kiss them — he never 
kissed anybody in his whole life, his biographer says, and 
I guess that may be so, too. He stole down-stairs and out 
into the moonlight. The dock was only a quarter of a mile 
away. The ship was to sail at daylight, on the turn of the 
tide. There was much commotion going on around the boat, 
battening down hatches and doing the last few necessary 
things before braving the reeling deep. 
Little Stephen was watching his chance to get aboard. He 
was going as a stowaway. A man came up to him. It was 
the captain, and before the lad could escape the man said, 
**Here, I want a cabin-boy — will you go?" 
The boy thanked God that it was night, so the captain 
could not see his crooked eye, and gasped, "Yes— yes!" 
^ The cook was making coffee in the galley for the steve- 
dores who had just finished loading the ship. The captain 
took the boy by the hand and leading him up the plank to 
the galley told the cook to give him a cup of coffee and a 
biscuit. §The ship pushed off, and hoisted sail, just at 
daylight on the turn of the tide. 
The tide, too, had turned for Stephen Girard. 



Happiness is the rightful heritage of childhood. 

VERY little observation will show 
that physical defects, when backed 
up by mental worth, transform 
themselves into "beauty spots." 
To be sure, no one was ever so 
bold as to speak of Girard*s blem- 
ishes as beauty spots, but the fact 
is that his homely face and un- 
graceful body were strong factors 
in making him a favorite of 
fortime. Handsome is that hand- 
some does .^ Disadvantages are 
often advantages — they serve as stimulus and bring out 
the best. 

Young Girard had long arms and short legs, and could climb 
fast and high. And he could see more with his one eye than 
most men could with two. He expected no favor on account 
of his family or good looks, and so made himself necessary 
to the captain of the craft as a matter of self-preservation. 
^Not all sea-captains are brutal, nor do all sailors talk 
in a hoarse guttural, shift their quids, hitch their trousers 
and preface their remarks with, "Shiver my timbers." 
That first captain with whom Stephen Girard sailed was 
young — twenty-six, a mere youth, with a first mate twice 
his years. He was mild-mannered, gentle-voiced and owned 
a copy of Voltaire's "Philosophical Dictionary." His name 
is lost to us even the name of his ship has foundered in 


the fog, but that he was yoting, gentle and read Voltaire 
are facts recorded in the crooked and twisted handwriting 
of Stephen Girard, facts which even his blackguard biog- 
rapher admitted. 

The new cabin-boy was astonished that one so young could 
be captain of a ship; he was also astonished that a person 
who gave orders in a gentle voice could have them executed. 
Later, he learned that the men whose orders are always 
obeyed do not talk loudly nor in guttural. This first boyish 
captain taught Girard a splendid lesson — to moderate both 
manner and voice and be effective. 

Of that first voyage, about all we know is that the boy slept 
on a pile of gunny sacks ; that the captain let him read from 
the "Philosophical Dictionary;" that he polished the bright 
work until it served as a mirror; that the captain smiled 
his approval, and that the boy, short and swart, with bullet 
head, followed him with one eye and worshiped him as 
Deity jt jt 

Men do not succeed by chance. Chance may toss you into 
a position of power, but if you do not possess capacity, you 
can never hold the place. 

Young Girard gravitated from the position of cabin-boy to 
clerk ^ J^ 

From this to mate came by easy stages, and so much as a 
matter of course that it isn't worth while to mention how. 
^ By the law of France no man under twenty-five could be 
captain of a ship, but when Girard was twenty-two we find 
a ship-owner falsifying the record and putting the boy down 
as twenty-five, on the obliging oath of the boy's father, 



whom we hope was duly paid for his pains. ^ At twenty-four, 
Captain Stephen Girard sailed his sloop, ** L*Amiable Louise, " 
around Sandy Hook and up New York Bay. Ship captains 
then were merchants, with power to sell, trade and buy. 
The venture was a success, and young Girard took the liberty 
of picking up a cargo and sailing for New Orleans — his 
knowledge of French being a valuable asset for that par- 
ticular destination. 

Matters were prosperous, and Girard was twenty-six, just 
the age of that heroic captain, under whose care he first 
set sail, and the age of the Corsican when he conquered 
Italy J^ J^ 

Girard had ceased to wonder about boys braving waves and 
going upon the stormy sea in ships. 

It was in July, Seventeen Hundred and Seventy-six, — call 
it July Fourth — that Captain Stephen Girard was skirting 
the coast of the Atlantic, feeling his way through a fog 
toward New York. He was not sure of his course and was 
sailing by dead reckoning. 

Suddenly the fog lifted. The sun stood out, a great golden 
ball in the sky. The young captain swung his glass along 
the horizon and with his one good eye saw a sail — it was 
bearing down upon him. 
It was coming closer. 

In an hour it was a mile away. He realized that he was the 
objective point. ^ It was a British cruiser, and he then real- 
ized that he was to be forced upon the beach or captured. 
5 Girard was not a praying man, but he prayed now for a 
friendly cove or bay, or the mouth of a river. The fog rolled 


away to the west, the shore-line showed sharp and clear — 
and there a half-mile away was the inviting mouth of Chesa- 
peake Bay. At least Girard thought it was, but it proved to 
be the mouth of the Delaware. Girard crowded on all sail 
— the cruiser did the same. 
Night settled down. 

Before morning Girard*s little craft was safe tmder the 
frowning forts of the Delaware, and the cruiser had turned 
back seeking fresh prey. 

Only the good can reach me, and no thought of love you 
send me can be lost. 


N one of his trips to the West 
Indies, the ship of which Stephen 
Girard was mate stopped at the 
Isle of Martinique. 
The captain and mate went ashore, 
and were invited to dine at the 
house of a merchant and planter 
up on the hillside overlooking the 
sea. The sugar with which the 
ship was loading belonged to this 
planter, hence the courtesies to 
the seafaring men. It was a great 
event to Girard. He would have evaded it if he could, and 



yet he wanted to see how folks who lived in houses reaUy 
acted Ji J' 

Of that seemingly uneventful day one incident stood out 
in the mind of Girard to the day of his death. It seems the 
merchant and planter had a niece who lived in his household. 
This girl sat at the table next to Girard. She was only a child, 
about twelve years of age. But women mature yoimg in 
that climate, and her presence caused the little first mate 
to lose all appetite. However, nothing worse happened than 
the spilling of a dish of soup in his lap, when the girl tried 
to pass the plate to him, which was surely more polite than 
to spill it in hers. 

After dinner the young lady accompanied the party down 
to the wharf .Going down the hill she talked, and talked a 
good deal, but Girard could only say it was a fine day and 
looked as if there was going to be a storm. 
This girl was tall, angular and strong. She climbed the 
rigging to the lookout, and then was scolded by her uncle, 
who was really proud of her and chuckled at her perfor- 
mance. Her features were rather coarse, but her lustrous 
eyes and bubbling vitality caused the one sound peeper of 
Girard to follow her in awe and reverence. 
She came into the cabin and looked at his books ; this pleased 
Girard. He asked her if she could read and she loftily wrote 
her name for him, thus: Marie Josephine Rose Tascher de 
la Pagerie. 

She handed him the slip of paper and remarked, **You 
could never remember my name so I write it out for you 
like this.»» 



In a few minutes the order was given, "All ashore who are 
going ashore!" 

Girard kept that slip of paper, and a few years afterward, 
in a generous mood, sent the girl a present of a blue shawl. 
fl She wrote in acknowledgment, and incidentally said she 
was soon to sail for France "to get an education." 
Girard was surprised that any woman would want an 
education, and still more amazed at the probability that 
she could acquire one. In fact, when the girl had written 
her name for him, he kept the slip of paper more as a 
curiosity than anything else — it was the handwriting of 
a woman ! ^ Girard never received but that one letter from 
the young lady, but from his shipping agent in Martinique 
word came that Marie Josephine Rose had married, when 
sixteen, the Vicomte Beauharnais. 

Some years after, Girard heard from the same source that 
she was a widow. 

Later, he learned that she married a Corsican by the name 
of Napoleon Bonaparte. 



G I R A R D 

The less you require looking after, the more valuable is 
vour life. 

IRARD used to say that he did 
not come to Philadelphia of his 
own accord, but having been sent 
there by Providence, he made the 
best of it. 

War was on, and all American 
ports were blockaded. How long 
this war would last, no one knew. 
Girard*s sympathies were with the 
Colonies, and the cause of liberty 
was strong in his heart. He was 
glad that France — his La Belle 
France — had loaned us money wherewith to fight England. 
Yet all his instincts were opposed to violence and the pomps 
of army life for him had no lure. 

He unloaded his ship, put the craft at safe anchorage and 
settled down, trying to be patient. He could have sold his 
cargo outright, but he had a head for business — prices were 
rising, and he had time — he had all the time there was. He 
rented a store on Water Street and opened up at retail. It 
was the best way to kill time until the war closed. 
The rogue biographer has told us that Girard*s ship was 
loaded with **niggers," and that these were sold by the 
mercenary captain and . the money pocketed by himself, 
"all being fair in love and war." 

This tale of business buccaneering has long been exploded, 


but it is a fact that the cargo was used by Girard as his 
first capital. He used the money wisely and well, and repaid 
the other owners — one-third being, his own property — with 
interest «^ J^ 

When the war was over, it was expected that Captain Girard 
would again take to the deck and manage his craft. But 
this was not to be. That there was a goodly dash of sentiment^ 
in his nature is shown in that, after ten years, he bought 
the boat and would have kept her for life, had she not been 
wrecked on the Florida Reefs and her bones given to the 
barracout ^ Jt^ 

In front of Girard's little store on Water Street there was a 
pump, patronized by the neighbors. 

Girard had been there about three months. He was lonely, 
cooped up there on land, sighing for the open sea. Every 
day he would row across to his ship and look her over, 
sweeping the deck, tarring the ropes, greasing the chains, 
calculating how soon she could be made ready for sea, 
should news of peace come. 
The weeks dragged slowly away. 

Girard sat on a box and watched the neighbors who came 
to the pump for water. Occasionally, there would toddle a 
child with jug or pail, and then the crooked little store- 
keeper would come forward and work the pump-handle. 
Among others, came PoUie Lumm, plump, pretty, pink and 
sixteen J> ^ 

Girard pimiped for her, too. 

He got into the habit of pumping for her. If he was busy, 
she would wait. 



Pollie Lumm was a sort of cousin to Sallie Lunn. Neither had 
intellect to speak of. Pollie had the cosmic urge, that is all, 
and the marooned sea-captain had in him a little — just a 
little — of the salt of the sea. 

Fate is a trickster. Her game is based on false pretences — 
she should be forbidden the mails. 

She sacrifices individuals by the thousand, for the good of 
the race. All she cares for is to perpetuate the kind. 
Poor sailor man, innocent of petticoats, caught in the 
esoteric web, pumping water for Pollie Lumm — Pollie Lumm 
— plump, pert, pink and pretty. ^ And so they were married. 
^ Their wedding journey was in a scow, across to the bride- 
groom's ship, riding at anchor, her cordage creaking in the 
rising breeze. 

Pollie Lumm, the bride of a day, was frightened, there alone 
with a one-eyed man, when the rats went scurrying through 
the hold. She was n't pink now, her color had turned to 
ashy yellow and her heart to ashes of roses. Girard could 
face the wind of the North, but a crying woman on a ship 
at anchor, whose rusty chains groaned to the dismal screech 
of tugging cordage, undid him. A lesser man — a devil-may- 
care fellow — could have met the issue. Girard, practical, 
sensible, silent, was no mate for prettiness, plump and pink. 
He should have wedded a widow who could have passed 
him a prehensile hawser and taken his soul in tow. 
The bride and groom rowed back, bedraggled, to the room 
over the store. 

Polly could n't cook — she could not figure — she could not 
keep store — she could not read the "Philosophical Dic- 


tionary" — nor cotild she even listen while her husband 

read, without nodding her sleepy head. No baby came to 

rescue her from the shoals, and by responsibility and care 

win her safely back to sanity. 

Poor Pollie Lumm Girard! 

Poor Silly Sailor Man! 

Venus played a trick on you — didn't she, and on herself, 

too, the jade! 

Pollie became stout — enormously stout — the pearl-like pink 

of her cheek now looked like burnt sienna, mixed with 

chrome yellow. She used to sit all day in front of the store, 

looking at the pump. 

She ceased to see the pump ; she did not even hear its creak, 

which she once thought musical. Q Her husband sent for a 

doctor. "Chronic dementia," the doctor diagnosed it. 

She was sent to an asylum, and there lived for thirty-eight 

years jt jt 

Religiously, once a month, her husband went to visit her, 

but her brain was melted and her dull, dead eyes gave no 

sign. She was only a derelict, waiting for death. 



If I knew I were to die tomorrow, I would plant a tree today. 
HE first six years that Girard was 

in Philadelphia he made little head- 
way. But he did not lose courage. 
He knew that the war must end 
sometime, and that when it did, 
there would be a great revival of 
business J> ,^ 

When others were beaten out and 
ready to give up, and prices were 
down, he bought. Merchant ships 
were practically useless, and so 
were for sale. He bought one brand- 
new boat and named it "The Water Witch," for this was 
the name he had for Pollie Lumm when she used to come 
with her jug to his pump. 

As soon as the war closed and peace was declared, Girard 
loaded his two ships with grain and cotton and dis- 
patched them to Bordeaux. 

They were back in five months, having sold their cargoes, 
bringing silks, wines and tea. These were at once sold at 
a profit of nearly a hundred thousand dollars. 
The ships were quickly loaded again. The captains were 
ordered to go to Bordeaux, sell their cargoes and load with 
fruit and wine for St. Petersburg. There they were to sell 
their cargoes and buy hemp and iron, and sail for Amsterdam. 
At Amsterdam they were to buy dry-goods and sail for Cal- 
cutta. There they were to sell out and with the proceeds buy 
silks, teas, and coffees and make for America. 

98 , 


These trips took a year to make, but proved immensely 
profitable j^ J- 

Girard now bought more ships, and named, very properly, 
the first one "Voltaire," and the next "Rousseau.** 
By Seventeen Hundred and Ninety-five, he owned twenty- 
two ships and was worth over a million dollars. In fact he 
was the first man in America to have a million dollars in 
paying property at his disposal. 

After he was thirty he was called "Old Girard.'* He centered 
on business and his life was as regular as a town clock. He 
lived over his warehouse on Water Street and opened the 
doors in the morning himself. He was regarded as cold and 

He talked little, but he had a way of listening and making 
calculations while others were arguing jt Suddenly, he 
would reach a conclusion and make his decision. When 
this was done that was all there was about it. The folks with 
whom he traded grew to respect his judgment and knew 
better than to rob him of his time by haggling. His business 
judgment was remarkably good, but not unerring. Yet he 
never cried over lacteal fluid on the ground. When one of 
his captains came in and reported a loss of ten thousand 
dollars through having been robbed by pirates, Girard made 
him a present of a hundred, so to get his nerve back and told 
him he should be thankful that he got off with his life. 
He loaded the ship up again, and in a year the man came back 
with a cargo that netted twenty-five thousand dollars. Girard 
gave him a silver watch worth twenty dollars and chided him 
for having been gone so long. 



Then Girard made a pot of tea for both, on the little stove 
in the office back of his bank, for the millionaire always 
prided himself on being a cook. 

His brother, Jean, had now come to join him. Jean was 
also a ship-captain. Stephen bought a third ship and called 
it "The Two Brothers," in loving token of the ownership. 
^ When his brother Jean proved to be a bad business man, 
although a good sailor, Stephen presented him his own half- 
interest in the ship, and told him to go off and make his 
fortune alone. Jean sailed away, mortgaged his boat to get 
capital to trade upon, lost money and eventually lost the 
boat. When he wanted to come back and work for his brother, 
Stephen sent him a check, but declined to take him back. 
"The way to help your poor relatives is to remit them. When 
you go partners with them everybody loses. " 
Girard was a man of courage — moral, financial and physical. 
When his ship, the "Montesquiae," arrived at the mouth 
of the Delaware on March Twenty-sixth, Eighteen Hundred 
and Thirteen, she was headed off and captured by an English 
gunboat. Word was sent to Girard that he could have his boat 
by bringing an inventory of the craft and cargo and paying 
over British gold to the amount. He went down the bay in a 
small boat, met the enemy on a frank business basis, paid 
over one hundred and eighty thousand dollars in English 
guineas and came sailing back to his own calm satisfaction, 
even if to the embarrassment of the crew. The boat was 
loaded with tea and Girard was essentially a tea merchant. 
He knew his market and sold the "Montesquiae's" cargo 
for just five hundred thousand dollars. 



When yellow fever came like a blight to the city, and the grass 
grew in the streets, Girard gave bountifully to relieve the dis- 
tress of the people. But a panic of fear was upon them. They 
forgot how to live and began to pray. Preachers proclaimed 
the day of judgment was at hand. Whole families died, and 
left no one to look after their affairs. 
Every night wagons went through the street and the hoarse 
cry was heard, "Bring out your dead — Bring out your dead ! " 
^ Then the old millionaire showed the heroic side of his nature. 
He organized a hospital at Bush Hill, and took personal charge 
of it. Every office that could be done for the sick and dying 
he did. With his own carriage he would go to houses, and 
lifting the stricken ones in his arms, carry them out and 
transport them to a place where they could have attention. 
^ As the spirits of others sank, his soared. To the men who 
walked in the middle of the street with a sponge to their 
noses, he would call in banter. He laughed, danced and sang 
at the pesthouse, things he was never known to do before. 
"Fear is the only devil," he wrote on a big board and put 
it up on Chestnut Street. He would often call at fifty houses 
a day, carrying food and medicine, but best of all, good cheer. 
"If death catches me, he *11 find me busy," he used to say. 
^ He showed the same courage when the financial panic 
was on in Eighteen Hundred and Ten. At this time every one 
was hoarding and business was paralyzed. Girard had one 
million dollars to his credit with Baring Brothers in London. 
He drew out the whole smn and invested it in shares of the 
United States Bank. This bold move inspired confidence and 
broke the back of the panic. 



In Eighteen Hundred and Eleven, when the charter of the 

United States Bank had expired, and Congress foolishly 

declined to renew it, Girard bought the whole outfit-— or all 

there was left of it — and established "The Bank of Stephen 

Girard, " with a capital of one million, two hundred thousand 

dollars ^ J* 

When near the close of the war the Government was trying 

to float a loan of five million dollars, only twentj^ thousand 

was taken. "The Colonies are going back to the Mother 

Country, " the croakers said. If so all public debts would be 


Girard stepped forward and took the entire loan, although 

it was really more than his entire fortune. 

The effect was magical — if Old Girard was not afraid, the 

people were not, and the money began to come out of the 

stockings and ginger-jars. 

Girard believed in America and in her future. "I want to 

live so as to see the United States supreme in liberty, justice 

and education,'* he used to say. 

He loved pets and children, and if he was cold it was only to 

grown-ups J> J- 

On each of his ships he placed a big Newfoundland dog — 

"To keep the sailors company, " he said. The wise ones said it 

was because a dog was cheaper than a watchman. An)rway, 

he loved dogs, and in his yellow gig, or under it, was always 

a big, shaggy dog. He drove a slow-going, big, fat horse and 

used to say that if times got hard he at least had a horse that 

could plow. During the last twenty years of his life he used 

to make daily trips to his farm, where Girard College now 



standS) and work there like a laborer with his trees and 
flowers. If he did not love Venus, he certainly did Ceres 
and Pomona. **If I knew I should die tomorrow, I should 
plant a tree today, " he once wrote. 

Wealth, like education, is onl^ valuable to those who know 
how to use it. 

y his will, Girard left many bene- 
factions for the betterment of 
humanity. His bequests to the 
City of Philadelphia and the State 
of Pennsylvania were these : To the 
Philadelphia Hospital, $30,000 ; to 
the Pennsylvania Institute for the 
Deaf, $20,000 ; to the Philadelphia 
Orphan Asylum, $10,000; to the 
Philadelphia Public Schools, $10,- 
000; to the City of Philadelphia, 
for the distribution of fuel among 
the poor, $10,000 ; to the Masonic Loan Association, $20,000 ; 
to the City of Philadelphia for the improvement of its streets 
and public squares, $500,000; to the Philadelphia Public 
Library, $40,000 ; for the improvement of canals in the state 
of Pennsylvania, $300,000; and greatest of all, $2,000,000 
for the founding of Girard College. Beside this was a residue 



of the estate which went also to Girard College, the total 
value of which endowment has increased until it is now over 
sixteen million dollars. 

At the time of the death of Girard his bequests to public 
institutions had never been equaled by individual philan- 
thropies in the history of the world. 

And since then, I believe, only two men have given as much 
for the cause of education. ^ However, it so happened that 
no public statue or material acknowledgment of Girard*s 
great gifts to Philadelphia and the State of Pennsylvania 
were made — except at his own expense — until the year 
Eighteen Hundred and Ninety-seven, when a bronze statue 
of this great business man and philanthropist was erected 
on the north plaza of the City Hall. This statue has no special 
setting and is merely one of a dozen decorative objects that 
surround the square. 

That particular clause in Girard's will which provided that 
no clergyman, preacher or priest should ever be allowed to 
act as trustee for the school, or ever be allowed to enter 
the school, is still outwardly respected, at least. 
The gatekeeper challenges you thus: "Are you a clergy- 
man?" And those who fail to flatly say, "No," are not 
allowed to enter. 

Horace Greeley once approached the gate at Girard College 
wearing his usual little white necktie, his spectacles and his 
beatific, innocent smile. 
"You can't enter," said the grim St. Peter. 
"Why not?" was the astonished reply. 
"You are a clergyman!" 


"The hell I am!" said Horace. ^**Excuse me — walk right 
in," said St. Peter. 

The heirs tried to break the will, basing their argument 
on that item concerning clergymen. 

The Supreme Court upheld the will, finding nothing derog- 
atory in it to the Christian religion or public policy. 
Girard did not say, ** Christian Clergymen" — he was opposed 
to all formal religions. ^ Girard had very positive ideas on 
the subject of education and he was the first man in America 
to put manual training to a practical test as a part of the 
school curriculum. ^ He was certainly far in advance of his 
time in his efforts to bring about hiunan eflSciency, instead 
of an education for bric-a-brac. 

At Girard College there are now constantly over two thou- 
sand boys, who have a home and school advantages. There 
are certain grave dangers about institutional homes for 
children in that there is a strong tendency to kill individu- 
ality. But certain it is that Girard College has ever labored, 
and in a great degree succeeded, in minimizing this tendency. 
It is the proud boast that any boy who graduates from 
Girard is able to take care of himself — he can do things that 
the world wants done and is willing to pay for. 
The boys graduate at eighteen, which is the age that most 
students who go to universities, enter. But Girard boys, 
almost without exception, go right into practical business, 
and Philadelphia merchants are not slow to hire them. 
Girard College has a long honor roll of noble men who have 
succeeded beyond the average, helping themselves by adding 
to the wealth and happiness of the world. 



And it is good to know that Girard College is managed by 
men who are in the line of progress in pedagogy. Girard 
is a better school now than it has ever been, and I am sure 
that there will be still a more excellent Girard. Great was the 
mariner and merchant Who made these things possible! 

io6 , 


for what 

'HE FRA is the bibli- 
ozine that is never 
thrown away «^ The 
paper upon which THE FRA 
is printed costs four times as 
that which is used in ** Mums- 
ley's" and other stock mag- 
azines. And as for the text, 
Elbert Hubbard endeavors to 
have it as much better than 
'*the six best sellers" as 
the paper he uses is better 
than the popular periodical 
pishmince. Lawyers, writers, 
orators, business captains, 
preachers, farmers — all who 
prize phosphorus plus, take 
THE FRA, because it sup- 
plies the needed Mental 
Martini. The question is, can 
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THE FRA— not for what 
THE FRA may tell him, but 
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AND Most Artistic Magazine in America. 


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[LBERT HUBBARD is at once the despair 
. . and the inspiration of every writer and 
public speaker in America today. No man 
of this age is so great at so many angles. 
He will be canonized and take his honored place 
on the calendar of the Saints of sanity, sweetness 
and human freedom. ^ Those who raise the foolish 
question, "Is Hubbard sincere?" write themselves 
down as ignorant of the laws of nature and consequently 
incompetent to judge. ^ No man can accomplish what 
this man has done and not be sincere, because only 
in sincerity and whole-heartedness could he have the 
co-operation of the forces of nature, which would 
enable him to do his work. It would not be possible 
for any man to do the marvelous things that Elbert 
Hubbard has done and is doing every day unless he 
did work in harmony with the laws of ibeing. In his 
sincerity lies his strength. The forces of Nature can- 
not be called out except by him who comes with pure 
heart and in terrible earnestness. ^I advise you to 
read THE FRA. I read it religiously as I do all of the 
"good stuflF" and I consider it quite the finest bit of 
mental meat that ever came earth ways. 




/^■■i^HE following books are rare and peculiar in 
^1 binding, distinctly Roycrof tie — nothing to be 
^■■^ had at the book-stores like them Jt> Flexible 

velvet calf, finished with turned edge jt ^ j( ^ 

The Last Ride, Browning - - - $ 5.00 

Walt Whitman, Hubbard and Stevenson 

Will o' the Mill, Stevenson 

Full Leather, Modeled: a 

Rip Van Winkle, Irving 

Respectability, Hubbard 

A Dog of Flanders, Ouida - 

Law of Love, Reedy 

Nature, Emerson _ _ _ 

Ballad of Reading Gaol, Wilde 

Love, Life and Work, Elbert Hubbard 



Revival of Medieval Binding 

$ 10.00 
Thomas Jefferson, Lentz and Hubbard - - 10.00 

Justinian and Theodora, Alice and Elbert Hubbard 10.00 
The Man of Sorrows, Hubbard - $10.00 and 25.00 

Full Levant, Hand-Tooled by Kinder 
Thoreau*s Friendship, Tall copy on genuine Vellum, 

forty free-hand drawings - - $250.00 

Thoreau's Friendship — Japan Vellum, Hlumined 60.00 

Contemplations, Hubbard _ _ _ 

Song of Myself, Whitman 
Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam - - - 

Self-Reliance, Emerson _ _ _ 

The Man of Sorrows, Hubbard - - - 

Last Ride, Browning — Classic Vellum, specially 
Illumined _ _ _ _ 

Law of Love, Beedy _ _ _ 

The Roycrofters, East Aurora, New York 

w W 



Genius Appears 
in the World, 
You May 

Know Him by This Sign, 
That the Dunces are all in 
Confederacy Against Him 



E Sometimes 
Meet an Orig- 
inal Gentle- 
man, Who, if 

Manners had not Existed, 
Would Have Invented 
Them — E me r s o n 

Vol. 24 


No. 4 





^^^ ~~ — gg ^^ 



Sg Sjg Mt-w-vr nTw SE 



^iik?n=ig»J!;^ ;»;a»lg<=<iifearti A-agil^i^?RTg 


•^ O H N 3 



Eflter<yi at the poatofflce at East Aurora. New fork, for transmission as second-claas matter 
r vpyriirht, \@m, by Elbert Hubbefd, EditorAWdpHWisher 

without THE FRA—not 
him, but for what THE 
The best printed and most artistic magazine 

THE FRA is the bibliozinc 
that is never thrown away. 
The paper upon which THE 
FRA is printed costs four 
times as much as that which 
is used in "^Mumsley's" and 
other stock magazines. And 
as for the text, Elbert Hubbard 
endeavors to have it as mu6h 
better than "the six best 
sellers" as the paper he uses 
is better than the popular 
periodical pishmince. Law- 
yers, writers, orators, business 
captains, preachers, farmers- 
all who prize phosphorus 
plus, take THE FRA, be- 
cause it supplies the needed 
Mental Martini. The question 
is, can a thinker afford to do 
for what THE FRA may tell 
FRA will make him think ? 
in America. 


Sent To Us* Soon 

Two Dollars For Both If Subscription Is 
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Enclosed find Two Dollars, and I request you to send me THE FRA 
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R«Dit by draft or Post OfBce order; it is unsafe to send money by mail unless by registered letter 

A Message to Garcia 

was first printed in The Philistine of March, 1899. The 
merit of the article was instantly recognized, and the 
edition disappeared ^ The article was then reprinted by 
George H. Daniels of the New York Central Lines, and over 
three million copies were distributed. It was also reprinted 
by the Westinghouse Company in England. In France, 
the Bon Marche of Paris distributed a million copies. 
Prince Hilakoff, Director of Railways in Russia, translated 
the essay into Russian and presented a copy to every officer 
in the Russian Army ^ The Mikado of Japan, not to be 
outdone, had the ** Message" printed in Japanese, and a 
copy was placed in the hands of every Japanese soldier. 
Cf In all, the "Message" has been translated into eleven 
languages, and reprinted over twenty-five million times. It 
is believed that it has a wider circulation than any other 
article ever written by an American, and a larger circula- 
tion in the same space of time than any other article ever 
produced in all the history of literature ^ We have a 

Few Volumes of the * 'Message' ' 

in English, followed by the ** Message" translated into 
Japanese, which in turn is succeeded by the "Message" 
retranslated into English ^ These books are bound in 
limp leather in Japanese style, to be in keeping with 
the text • . . Price One Dollar by Mail 

We also have the Message in paper covers, price 10c a copy 



Health and Wealth 

A Book by Elbert Hubbard of East Aurora, New York 

HEREIN is pleasantly told how 
to be happy — but not too happy 
— and yet be rich; containing 
thoughts, always sincere and 
sometimes serious, concerning 
the best methods of preventing one from 
becoming a burden to himself, a weariness 
to his friends, a trial to his neighbors and a 
reflection on his Maker. This volume tells of 
Roycroftism. ^Roycroftism is here, and it is 
slowly but surely increasing in influence. 
^ Roycroftism does not claim to be a religion 
— it is a system of life. This system, plan, 
method or habit, does not seek to separate 
religion from work, literature from life, or art 
from play, any more than it would separate 
love from sociology, or ethics from finance. 

The price of Health and Wealth is Two Dollars, bound 
either in limp leather or in boeurds, leather back. 

THE ROYCROFTERS, East Aurora, New York 

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Sl^ En^T- FIl/ROPm ^g S[g 

IT takes a great deal of boldness, mixed with a vast deal of caution^ 
to acquire a great fortune ; and then it takes ten times as much 
wit to keep it after you have got it, as it took to make it. 

— Mayer A. Rothschild 



HAT the Jews are a joyous people 
and find much sweet solace in 
their sorrowful religion is proven 
by one fact too obvious to be over- 
looked — they reproduce. 
Children are born of love and joy. 
The sorrows of Jewry are more 
apparent than real. After every 
Black Fast, when the congrega- 
tions used to sit shoeless on the 
stone floors of the synagogues, 
weeping and wailing on account 
of the destruction of Jerusalem, the youngsters, and the 
grown-ups as well, were counting the hours before the Feast 
of Pentecost would begin. ^The sorrow over the loss of 
things destroyed a thousand years or so ago, is reduced by the 
lapse of years to rather a pleasant emotional exercise. 
Fasts were followed by feasts, also pro and con, as Mrs. 
Malaprop would say, so in the home of an orthodox Jewish 
family there was always something doing. Fasts, feasts, 
flowers, sweetmeats, lights, candles, little journeys, visits, 
calls, dances, prayers, responses, wails, cries of exultation, 
shouts of triumph — "Rejoicing of the Law," — these pre- 
vented monotony, stagnation and introspection. 
And these are the things which have pressed their influences 
upon the Jew until the fume and reek of the Ghetto, the 
bubble and squeak of the rabble, and the babble of bazaars 
are more acceptable to him than the breeze blowing across 
silent mesa and prairie, or the low, moaning lullaby of lonely 
pine forests. ^ The Jew is no hermit — if anything is going 
on, he is literally and poetically in it. ^ The sense of sepa- 


MAYER A. ration is hell. If continued it becomes insanity. The sense 
ROTHSCHILD of separation is a- thing that seldom presses upon the Jew, 
and this is why insanity passes him by and seeks a Christian 
as a victim. The Jew has an animating purpose that is a 
saving salt, even if this purpose is not always an ideal one. 
His family, friends, clan, tribe, are close about him. 
Zangwill, himself a child of the Ghetto, comes to the rescue 
of the despised and misunderstood Christian, and expresses 
a doubt as to whether the Ghetto was not devised by Jews 
in order to keep Christians at a safe and discreet distance. 
^ For certain it is that the wall which shut the Jews in, shut 
the Christians out. The contempt of the Christian for the 
Jew is fully reciprocated. One-sided hate does not endure 
any more than does a one-sided love. 

The first Ghetto was at Venice. It came into being during 
the Italian Renaissance, say about Fourteen Hundred and 
Fifty. The Jews had settled in one corner of the City, as they 
always have done, and are still prone to do. They had their 
own shops, stores, bazaars, booths, schools and synagogues. 
There they were packed, busied with their own affairs, 
jostling, quibbling, arguing, praying, taking no interest in 
the social life outside. Jehovah lead them out of captivity 
in order that He might make them slaves to Himself. He 
surely was a jealous God! flOf course, they traded with 
Christians, bought, sold, ran, walked with them, but did not 
dine with Christians nor pray with them. There were Jewish 
architects, painters, printers, lawyers, doctors, bankers, and 
many of the richest and most practical men in Venice were 
Jews. ^They made money out of the Christians, and no 
doubt helped Christians to make money, for, as I said, things 
not founded on reciprocity do not last long. 
One fact that looks like corroborating proof of Zangwill's 
pleasantry, is that upon one of the Ghetto gates was a marble 

slab, warning all Jews that if any of them turned Christian MAYER A. 
he would never be allowed again to live in the Ghetto, nor ROTHSCHILD 
would he be saluted or spoken to if he returned, nor so much 
as be given a cup of water, but that the cord, scourge, gallows, 
prison and pillory should be his portion. Qlt was a curse 
somewhat like that cheerful one visited upon Spinoza, the 
lens-maker, when he forsook the synagogue and took up his 
home with the Mennonites. ^ Children born and brought up 
in the Ghetto always felt a certain pity for those who were 
obliged to live beyond the gates, in the great, selfish, grasping, 
wicked world. Those inside the Ghetto were the Chosen People 
of God; those outside were the Children of the Devil. 
No matter who built the wall, it is a fact that the Government 
of Venice, which was Christian and under the immediate 
jurisdiction of the Church, kept guards at the gates and 
allowed no Jew to leave after a certain early hour of the 
evening, nor on Sundays or holidays, or when the Emperor 
visited the city. The only exception to this was on Holy 
Cross Day, which occurred once a year. On this day all adult 
Jews were ordered out and marched by the soldiers to some 
Christian Church, where they were compelled to listen to 
the service and repeat the Apostles' Creed. Robert Browning 
says that they were rounded up all right, but when it came 
to saying the Creed they twiddled their thumbs and said Ben 
Ezra's Prayer. It is also quite probable that they crossed their 
fingers, for the Jews are a stubborn sort, given to contumacy 
and contravention. ^ On all other days, any Jew who went 
out into the city had to wear a big yellow O on his breast, 
and a yellow hat on his head. The Jewish women wore the 
and also a veil across which were yellow stripes. 
These chromatic signs were changed a few times in the 
course of the three hundred years that the Ghetto existed, 
and so were the hours in which the Jews were allowed to 


MAYER A. ^Qjjjg g^jj^ gQ^ Ij^j^ g^g o'clock in the evening and seven in 
ROTHSCHILD ^|jg morning were the regular closing and opening times. 
The watchmen at the gates and the guards who rowed round 
and round in their barcas were paid out of a special tax col- 
lected from the Jews. It was argued that it was all a sort of 
beneficent police protection, devised by kindly persons who 
loved their enemies, and did good to those who despitefuUy 
used them. Q The man who cannot make a good argument 
for the Ghetto lacks imagination. ^ We have all seen that 
particular type of mother who calls out of the window, 
** Johnnie, come in here at once, do you hear?" 
Johnnie does n't hear, so the call is repeated in a tone a 
trifle more shrill. This time Johnnie hears and shouts back, 
"I won't!" 

And the answer is, **Well, stay out there, then!" 
Perhaps it was something like this with the Jews in the 
Ghetto. They chose to congregate in this way, and the 
salutation finally was, "Stay there, then!" 
Gibbon, who was a deist or monotheist and really liked the 
Jews, intimates that it was lucky for the Christians that 
Constantine did n't embrace Judaism instead of Christianity, 
for if he had, the Jews would have treated the Christians 
exactly as the Christians have since treated the Jews. Of 
course, nobody claims that Christianity is the religion of 
Christ — it is the religious rule of pagan Rome, with the 
Jewish Christ as a convenient label. Just why Christians 
should worship a Jew, and pray to a Jewess, and yet despise 
Jews, is a matter so subtle that it has never been explained. 
Gibbon in this connection says at least one irrefutable thing, 
and that is, that the Jewish people are men and women. 
Christians are men and women, also. All are human beings, 
and it is quite likely that the race is not to the swift, nor the 
battle tQ the strong, but time and chance happeneth to them 

all. fl I am not sure that Gibbon was right when he says that MAYER A. 
the Christians were lucky in that Constantine did not turn ROTHSCHILD 
Jew. To be persecuted is not wholly a calamity, but to per- 
secute is to do that for which Nature affords no compensation. 
The persecutor dies, but the persecuted lives on forever. 
The struggle for existence which the Jew has had to make 
is the thing that has differentiated him and made him strong. 
Those first Christians — Primitive Christians — who lived from 
the time of Paul to that of Constantine, were a simple, direct, 
sincere and honest people — opinionated no doubt, and obsti- 
nately dogmatic, but with virtues that can never be omitted 
nor waived. They were economical, industrious and filled 
with the spirit of brotherhood, and they possessed a fine pride 
concerning their humility, as most ascetics do. Humility is 
a form of energy. It is simply going after the thing by another 
route, and deceiving yourself as to the motive. 
The Primitive Christians had every characteristic that dis- 
tinguished the Jew of the Middle Ages — those characteristics 
which invite persecution and wax strong under it. 
Poverty and persecution seem necessary factors in fixing 
upon a people a distinctive and peculiar religion. Persecution 
and poverty have no power to stamp out a religion — all they 
do is to stain it deeper into the hearts of its votaries. Centuries 
of starvation and repression deepened the religious impulses 
of the Irish, and it has ever been the same with the Jews. 
^ If the Jew is criticized in America, it is on account of that 
buttinski bumptiousness upon which he has no monopoly, 
but which goes with the newly made rich of any nationality 
who have little to recommend them beyond the walletoski. 
fl There are no poor Jews natives of America, and it is worth 
while noting that our richest citizens are not Jews, either. 
American-born Jews have enough. The poverty-stricken Jews 
in this country come from Russia, Bulgaria and Roumania ; 


MAYER A. and their children will have money to loan, if not to incin- 
ROTHSCHILD erate, because they possess the virtues that beckon all good 
things in their direction. ^ America is the true Judaic Zion. 
Here there are nearly two million Jews, and their religion 
is fast taking the form of a healthful Roycroftism. 
The downfall of Primitive Christianity dates from the day 
Constantine embraced it, and thereby made it popular J^ 
Prosperity is a form of disintegration — a ripening of the 
fruit. Things succeed only that they may wither. The business 
of every great religion is to die, and thus fertilize others. 
The Jew has survived every foe save success. Civilization 
is now adopting him, and Liberal Judaism is fast becoming 
a Universal Religion, taught in fact, if not in name, by 
priests, preachers and muftis of all denominations ^ The 
end of the Jew is near — he has ceased to be peculiar. 

OLFGANG GOETHE was born in 
the city of Frankfort in Seventeen 
Hundred and Forty-nine. Goethe 
gives us a very vivid description of 
Frankfort as he remembered it in 

W -^IK- his childhood days. He describes it 
^p^ as a town within a town, fortress 
within fortress. Then he tells us of 
a walled inclosure in this walled 
city, which was to him a very 
terrible place — it was the Ghetto, 
or Jews' Quarter. Through it ran 
the Judengasse, or street of the Jews. It was a place packed 
with human beings — houses, hallways, alleys, sidewalks and 


porches swarming with children. Goethe tells how he at MAYER A. 
times would peep through the iron gates of the Ghetto, but ROTHSCHILD 
as a child he never ventured in. The children told each other 
how human sacrifices were offered in the synagogues, and 
as proof, pictures of Abraham and Isaac were brought forth, 
— that proved the point J^ There were plenty of men in 
the Ghetto who looked exactly like Abraham — goodness 

In this Ghetto at Frankfort was bom in Seventeen Hundred 
and Forty-three, Mayer Anselm, afterward Mayer Anselm 
Rothschild. When Goethe took his peep into the Ghetto, 
this lad was about twelve years old — Goethe was six. Forty 
years later these men were to meet, and meet as equals. 
The father of Mayer Anselm was Anselm Moses. He could 
not boast a surname, for Jews, not being legal citizens, 
simply aliens, had no use for family names. If they occa- 
sionally took them on, the reigning duke might deprive 
them of the luxury at any time, without anesthetics. 
If a man had two names, say "Anselm Moses," it meant 
that his name was Anselm and that he was the son of Moses. 
Mayer Anselm was the son of Anselm. Rothschild means 
**Red Shield," and this was the distinguishing sign on the 
house. All the people in that house were "Red Shields." 
The house was seven stories high and at one time a hundred 
people lived in it. Later, when the name became popular, 
all of the people in that house called themselves, "Roths- 

In Goethe's time, there were just one hundred and sixty 
houses in the Frankfort Ghetto, and these were occupied by 
two thousand, three hundred Jews. 

Goethe says that the practice of walling the Jews in was to 
facilitate taxation — the Jews being honored by an assessment 
quite double that which Christians paid. At one time any Jew 


MAYER A. who paid two hundred and fifty florins was exempt from 
ROTHSCHILD wearing a yellow hat and the yellow on his breast. 

Many private houses, everywhere, have walls around them, 
and the plan of dividing different nationalities from each 
other, by setting apart a certain section of the town for each, 
was a matter of natural selection, everywhere practiced. 
Mayer Anselm grew up with never a thought that he belonged 
to a ** peculiar people," nor did the idea of persecution ever 
trouble him. The only peculiar people are those who do not 
act and think as we do. Who are peculiar? Oh, the others, 
the others, the others. ^ There was a big family for Anselm 
Moses to look after. All were hearty and healthy. The Mosaic 
Law says nothing about ventilation, but outside of this little 
lapse it is based on a very commonsense plan of hygiene. 
^One thing which adds greatly to the physical endowment 
of Jewish children, and almost makes up to the child of the 
Ghetto for the lack of woods and fields, is that he is not 
launched on the sea of life with a limited supply of love. 
Jewish children do not refer to their father as "the Gov*ner," 
and elderly women as ** Salem Witches," because the Jews 
as a people recognize the rights of the child. 
And the first right of a child is the right to be loved. 
In the average Christian household, until a very few years 
ago, the child grew up with the feeling constantly pressed 
upon him that he was a usurper and an interloper. Such 
questions as, ** Where would you get anything to eat if I 
did not provide it?" were everywhere flying at the heads of 
lisping babyhood. The words **must" and "shall" were 
often heard, and that obedience was a privilege and not a 
duty was nowhere taught. All parents quoted Solomon as 
to the beauties of the rod, and that all children were perverse, 
obstinate and stiff-necked was assumed as a fact. To break 
the will of a child was a very essential thing to do. 

The lack of the spirit of brotherhood that the Jew has MAYER A. 
encountered from the outside world, has found a balance in ROTHSCHILD 
an increased expression of love within his family. That most 
atrocious English plan of taking the child from his parents 
at a tender age and placing him in a boarding-school managed 
by holluschickies, has never been adopted by the Jews. 
The tendency to "run away" to sea, or go **out West," 
or **skip out," are results of the loveless plan of cheating 
childhood of its divine or natural rights ^ The houses of 
prostitution are recruited from respectable families where 
the formula, * * Do-not-darken-that-door-again, " leaps lightly 
to lips that read the New Testament aloud night and morning 
and recite the Lord's Prayer in a bishop's voice. 
Fear, repression and shock to vibrating nerves through 
threats, injunctions and beatings have fixed in the Christian 
races a whole round of "children's diseases," which in our 
ignorance we attribute to "the will of God." 
Let this fact be stated, that old folks who are sent over the 
hill to the poorhouse, have invited their fate. And conversely, 
elderly people who are treated with courtesy, consideration, 
kindness and respect are those who, in manhood's morning, 
have sown the seeds of love and kindness. Water rises to the 
height of its source; results follow causes; chickens come 
home to roost; action and reaction are equal; forces set in 
motion continue indefinitely in one direction. The laws of 
love are as exact as the laws of the tides that moan and cry 
and beat upon the shores, the round world over. 
A family of ten children born and reared in a noisome Ghetto, 
and all healthy and strong? Impossible. Yet such is the fact, 
and not a rare exception either. Happiness is the great pro- 
phylactic, and nothing is so sanitary as love, even though it 
be flavored with garlic. 



HE father of Mayer Anselm was 
a traveling merchant — call him a 
peddler, a Jewish peddler, and have 
done with it. He made trips out- 
side of the Ghetto, and used to 
come back with interesting tales 
of adventure, that he would relate 
to the household and neighbors 
who would drop in. 
Not many Jews ventured outside 
the Ghetto — to do so was to invite 
insult, robbery and violence J> 
However, to get out is to grow. This man traded safety for 
experience and so got out and grew. He evidently knew how 
to take care of himself J> He was courageous, courteous, 
intelligent, diplomatic. He made money. And always he 
wore the yellow hat and the yellow patch upon his breast. 
^^ In the "Red Shield" there was usually at least one Rabbi. 
One of the sons of Anselm Moses must be a Rabbi. The 
parents of little Mayer Anselm set him apart for the syna- 
gogue — he was so clever at reciting prayers and so glib 
with responses. Then he had an eczema for management, 
and took charge of all the games when the children played 
Hebrew I-Spy through the hallways and dark corners of 
the big, rambling and mysterious "Red Shield." 
Little Mayer must have been nine years old when his father 
first took him along on one of his trips. It was a wonderful 
event — they were gone three days, and when they returned 
the boy entertained the whole Judengasse with tales, slightly 
hand-illumined, about the wonderful things they had seen. 
Q One thing he learned, and that was that Christians were 
not the drunken, fighting, treacherous and bloodthirsty 
people he had supposed, at least they were not all bad. Not 

once were they insulted or molested. ^They had called at MAYER A. 
the great house or castle of the Landgrave to sell handker- ROTHSCHILD 
chiefs, combs and beads to the servants, and accidentally 
they had met the Landgrave, himself. He it was who owned 
the "Red Shield." The agent of the Landgrave came every 
month to collect the rent from everybody. That word "Land- 
grave, " simply meant "Landlord, " a term still used even in 
America, where there are, of course, no Lords, only * * ramrods. " 
^ The Landgrave had invited Anselm Moses into his library 
to see his wonderful collection of coins, and Mayer Anselm, 
of course, slipped in, too. To describe the wonders of that 
house would take a book as big as the Torah — I think so! 
q The Landgrave had a son, aged eleven, going on twelve, 
and his name was William. He was n't as big as Mayer, and 
Mayer would n't be as old as William for a year, and even 
then he would n't. 

Children know nothing of social caste. Caste is a disease of 
grown-ups. It is caused by uric acid in the ego. Children meet 
as equals — they respond naturally without so much as a 
thought as to whether they ought to love one another or not. 
^ William got acquainted with Mayer by holding up a big 
speckled marble, and then in a burst of good-fellowship 
giving the marble to the little stranger boy, all before a word 
had been said. Then while the Landgrave was showing his 
treasures to Anselm Moses, who himself was a collector in 
a small way, the boys slipped out of the door, and William 
took Mayer to see the stables. 

"What 's it for?" asked William pointing to the yellow patch 
sewed tight to the breast of Mayer's jacket. 
"That?" answered Mayer proudly, "Why, that means that 
I am a Jew, and I live in the Ghetto ! " 
William gave a little start of alarm. He looked at the other 
lad, so brown and sturdy and frankly open-eyed, and said 


MAYER A. slowly, "You can't be a Jew, because — because Jews eat 
ROTHSCHILD children!" 

" I 'm a Jew — my father is a Jew — all our folks are Jews — the 
Jews are the Chosen People of God!" Little Mayer spoke 
slowly and with feeling. 

**The Chosen People of God?" echoed William. 

They saw the horses, and Mayer looked at them with won- 
dering eyes. There were no horses in the Ghetto — just push- 
carts and wheelbarrows. 

William had been lame — hip disease, or something, and so 
had never been away down to the city, excepting with a nurse, 
or in a carriage with his tutor. 

The boys entered the house and the Landgrave was still 
explaining to Anselm Moses how all coins made by the Assyr- 
ians were modeled by hand, not stamped out with a die, as 
was done by the Greeks. ^The boys had n't been missed. 
"Can't I have one of those to wear on my coat, too?" asked 
William, pulling at his father's sleeve, and pointing to the 
yellow patch on Mayer's jacket. 

"One of what, my son?" asked the Landgrave seriously. 
^ "One of those yellow medals ! " 

The Landgrave looked at Mayer's yellow patch, and then 
involuntarily at the badge worn by the boy's father. 
The Landgrave's fine face flushed scarlet. 
His gaze met the steady, manly look of Anselm Moses. 
They understood each other. No one was near, save the two 
hoys. They met as equals, as men meet on the plain or desert. 
^*It 's all a mistake — a foolish mistake, Anselm, and some 
day we will outgrow it. A man 's a man ! " 
He held out his hand. QThe Jew grasped it firmly, and both 
men smiled — the smile of friendship and understanding J^ 
As the Jew and his son started to go, the Landgrave gave 

little Mayer a big copper penny, and asked him to come back MAYER A. 

some day and play with William. ROTHSCHILD 

And Anselm Moses, the Jew, took up his pack that he had 

left at the servant's quarters, and holding the hand of little 

Mayer Anselm, they walked out of the castle yard, down 

among the winding trees to the road. 

"We '11 go back some day and see him," said little Mayer 

Anselm as his tongue began to run fast recounting the strange 

things he had just seen. 

** Impossible, my son, impossible — we are Jews, and they are 

Christians!" Q Little Mayer couldn't see why that should 

make any difference. 

AYER ANSELM took to his father's 
business as a bird takes to the air. 
^ From selling trinkets he began 
dealing in jewelry, old coins, curi- 
osities and paintings. He picked 
his customers, and knew the weak- 
nesses of each — certain things were 
bought for certain people. 
The idea of becoming a Rabbi was 
abandoned — he wanted temporal 
power, not spiritual. Money to the 
intelligent Jew is the symbol of 
power — of independence. There may be men who love the 
money itself, but surely this man did n't. He was daring in 
its use — he had the courage to take risks. His was a quest 
for power. 

When about twenty, he traveled as far as Hanover to visit 


MAYER A. ^ kinsman, and there he served for several months as clerk 
ROTHSCHILD '^^ ^ bank. He had a mind like those Japanese who travel to 
absorb, and waste no time in battling error. 
Returning to Frankfort he transformed his father's little 
store into a bank and filled the window with real money to 
the great delight and astonishment of the neighbors. From 
Hanover he brought a collection of rare coins. The business 
his father had established gradually took on a cosmopolitan 
look. The house of the Red Shield became a sort of center 
of trade for the whole Judengasse. 

And all the time the friendship with the Landgrave and his 
son had continued. Commissions were given to Mayer to 
buy certain coins and pictures. Finally he was entrusted to 
collect the rents of the Red Shield. He did this so thoroughly 
and well, and was so prompt in his reports, that he was 
finally named as custodian of the property. 
Other property was given to him to look after. 
Jews came to him for advice, and Christians counseled with 
him as to loans. 

He became known as **The Honest Jew," which title, we 
hope, carried with it no refiection on his co-religionists. 
There are men — a very, very few — who are thus honored 
with the title of "Honest John." Gamblers can be recalled 
whose word was worth more than their bond. There are 
horsemen, gamblers, too, if you please, who have little 
respect for the moral code, but who never prove false to a 
trust. ^ Mayer Anselm had the coolness and the courage of 
a good gambler — in business he surely was ever ready to 
back his opinion. He would pay five hundred thalers for a 
jewel, give the man his price, and pocket the gem silently, 
while the hagglers and quibblers were screwing up their 
courage to offer a hundred for it. But here was the difference 
— Mayer Anselm knew what he was going to do with the 

jewel. He had a customer in mind. He knew the customer, MAYER A. 
he knew the jewel, and he knew his own mind. ROTHSCHILD 

The Landgrave grew to lean on Mayer Anselm of the Red 
Shield. He made him "Court Jew," or official treasurer of 
the principality. This carried with it "the freedom of the 
city," and being a free man — no longer technically a Jew 
— he had a name, and the name he chose was "Rothschild," 
or the Red Shield, Mayer Anselm Rothschild. ^ He no longer 
wore the yellow badge of a despised race. Yet he refused to 
leave the Ghetto — the House of the Red Shield was his birth- 
place, here his parents had lived and died. Here would he live 
and die. He was still a Jew, earnest and zealous in keeping 
the Law, the "President" or head of the synagogue. 
He was happily married to Letizia — she had no other name 
— and babies were coming along with astonishing regularity. 
^ To him and his good wife were born five sons and five 
daughters. The Red Shield was now his own property, he 
having purchased the freehold — a thing he could not do 
until he had attained "the freedom of the city." 
Then we get the rather curious condition of Mayer Anselm 
supervising the municipal affairs of the whole city; and 
his sons, grown to manhood, still wearing the yellow badge, 
and obliged to keep within the Ghetto at certain hours, on 
serious penalty. 

And it is worth while noting that Mayer Anselm kept the 
laws of the Ghetto, and asked no favor for himself beyond 
that granted to other Jews, save that he did not wear the 
badge. Beyond this he was a Jew, and his pride refused to 
allow him to be anything else. And yet he served the Christian 
public with a purity of purpose and an unselfishness that won 
for him the reputation of honesty that was his all his life Jt> 
By his influence the Ghetto was enlarged, several of the 
streets widened, and all houses were'placed under sanitary 


MAYER A. inspection. He established a compulsory free school system 
ROTHSCHILD and maintained an art gallery in the Ghetto that was a center 
of education for the entire district. ^ When this gallery was 
dedicated) Goethe came, and made a speech of congratulation. 
He was the guest of the Red Shield. Afterward, Rothschild re- 
turned the visit and spent several days at Weimar with the 
great poet, and always they were on very friendly terms. 

HE son of the Landgrave became, 
himself, the Landgrave of Hesse- 
Cassel, and afterward Elector. He 
is also known as William IX. 
He was book-lover, numismatist, 
and a man of many gentle virtues. 
I know of only one blot on his 
official 'scutcheon, but this was so 
serious that, for a time, it blocked 
his political fortune. In this affair, 
Rothschild was co-respondent J^ 
Rothschild was Court Jew, and 
beyond a doubt, attended to all details. 
During the American Revolutionary War, William IX. 
loaned twelve thousand soldiers, a goodly portion of his 
army, to one George III. of England, to go and fight the 
American Colonies. This is the first and only time that Ger- 
mans have ever carried arms against Americans. These 
Hessians were splendid, sturdy soldiers and would have 
been almost invincible if fighting to protect their homes, 
but in America they were only half-hearted. 
The bones of many of these poor fellows were scattered 


through New Jersey and Pennsylvania, and most of those MAYER A. 
who survived until Cornwallis offered his sword to Wash- ROTHSCHILD 
ington — and had it refused — settled down and became 
good Pennsylvania Dutch. 

Around Reading and Lancaster, are various worthy Daugh- 
ters of the Revolution, whose credential is that their grand- 
sires fought with Washington. The fact that the grandsires 
aforesaid were from Hesse, sold at so much a head by a 
Governor in need of ready cash, need not weigh in the scale. 
A woman 's a woman for a * that. ^ The amount of money 
which the Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel received from the 
English Government for the use of his twelve thousand men 
was six hundred thousand thalers; and while a thaler is 
equivalent to only about seventy-five cents, it was then 
worth as much as an American dollar is worth now. 
These six hundred thousand thalers were a straight bonus, 
for the English Government agreed to pay the Hessian 
soldiers the same that they paid their own English soldiers, 
and to treat them in all other ways as their own. 
A second division of four thousand men was afterward 
supplied, for which the Landgrave of Hesse was paid two 
hundred thousand thalers. 

Alluring tales of loot were held out to the soldiers, also 
educational advantages, somewhat after the style of the 
recruiting posters in this Year of Grace, Nineteen Hundred 
and Nine, that seek to lead and lure the lusty youth of America 
to enlist in the cause of Mars. ^Of course the common 
people knew nothing of the details of this deal of Hesse with 
England ^ The Americans were represented to them as 
savages who had arisen against their masters, and were 
massacring men, women and children. flTo stop this blood- 
shed was looked upon as a duty for the sake of humanity. 
Let it be stated that these Hessian soldiers were not sent to 


MAYER A. America against their will. They voted by regiments to go to 
ROTHSCHILD the defense of their English Cousins. All of the officers were 
given a month's pay as a bonus, and this no doubt helped 
their zeal. The soldiers were to go simply until the war was 
over, which was represented would be in one year, or pos- 
sibly less. QThe money came so easily, that the Landgrave 
of Hesse in Seventeen Hundred and Ninety-four, supplied 
the English with a third detachment of four thousand troops^ 
this time, to fight the French. 

It is not always the case that the terms of sale of human 
beings in war-time is so well known as are these particular 
deals. The Hessian officials kept no books. They made no 
records, and wrote no letters ^ Boards of Investigation were 
powerless. The business was transacted by personal messen- 
gers who went to London and closed the deal by word of 
mouth, and later brought back the coin. Wise men write 
few letters. What would you? Is Farley a rogue and a varlet! 
However, things in Threadneedle Street cannot be done in. 
secret. England has a wonderful system of bookkeeping and 
bureau-craft — there are spies upon spies, and checks and 
counterchecks, so that filching a large sum from the Bank of 
England has been a trick never so far successfully turned. 
^England's share in this transaction was not dishonorable — 
that is to say, to buy a man is not so bad as to sell one. 
All she did was to hire strike-breakers. 
English statesmen generally regarded the matter as a bit 
of necessary war-time expediency. If the rebel Colonies 
could be put down by hiring a few extra soldiers, why hire 
them, of course. 

Not so, said Edmund Burke, who gave the matter an un- 
looked-for publicity, by denouncing the Hessians as 
"hired assassins.'* He prophesied that the American would 
not consider these hirelings as amenable to the rules of 

civilized warfare, but would "welcome them with bloody MAYER A. 
hands to hospitable graves" — a phrase so fine that it was, ROTHSCHILD 
years after, seized upon by Tom Corwin and applied to the 
conquest of Mexico. ^ Charles Fox took a like view of the 
situation, and between him and Burke the word " Hessian" 
reached America with a taint upon it which a century of 
use has been unable to disinfect. 

The protest in the House of Commons did not directly avail, 
but there is a suspicion that a wise protest against a great 
wrong never dies on the empty air. Burke's accusation of 
tarter and sale rumbled throughout Europe, and created 
a sentiment of S5ntnpathy for America, especially in 
France. Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Paine, and Silas 
Deane made capital of it, and repeated the words ** hired 
assassins" and thereby helped us to borrow money to fight 
said assassins. So much for the law of compensation. 
As for the Landgrave, there was a cool million in bullion in 
his strong-box. He smiled, shrugged his shoulders, and 
calmly explained that George Washington the Rebel, had 
united with the Indian Savages and was murdering all loyal 
English subjects in America, and for a few good Germans to 
go to the rescue of England and help put down the insur- 
rection was a Christian act, and moreover, **It was nobody's 
business but their own. " He thought that this disposed of the 
matter, but the ghost would not down. ^In Eighteen 
Hundred and Eight, an Imperial Decree was issued by the 
Emperor to this effect, ** Whereas, it seems that the House 
of Hesse-Cassel has for some years persisted in selling its 
subjects to the English Crown, to bear arms in quarrels that 
are none of ours, and that by this means has amassed a large 
fortune, therefore this detestable avarice has now brought 
its own punishment, and Hesse-Cassel from now on ceases to 
exist, being incorporated with the Kingdom of Westphalia." 



ROUBLES, we are told, never 
come singly. Of this William the 
Elector was convinced ^ The 
Emperor had cut off his official 
head with a stroke of the pen. 
The money he possessed was to be 
taken by legal attachment, its 
lawful ownership to be determined 
in the courts. 

The lawsuit would have been a 
long and tedious one, but happily 
it was not to be. Napoleon with 
his conquering army was sweeping Europe. The Corsican 
was approaching Frankfort. The rumor was that the city 
was to be wiped out of existence. Napoleon hated the Hessians 
— he knew all about their having hired themselves out to 
fight the Americans. Aye! and the French! The Hessians 
must be punished. Justice ! The late Elector of Hesse-Cassel 
was now only a private citizen, but his record was his offense. 
Word had been brought to him that Napoleon had said he 
would hang him — when he caught him. It is not at all likely 
that this would have happened — Napoleon must have 
secretly admired the business stroke that could extract so 
large a sum from England 's exchequer. It was on this same 
excursion that Napoleon placed a guard in Goethe *s house to 
protect the poet from possible harm. "If I were not Napoleon, 
I would be Wolfgang Goethe," bluntly said the little man 
without removing his cocked hat, when he met the King of 
Letters, thus paraphrasing his prototype, Alexander. Goethe 
gave him a copy of his last book. **It lacks one thing — your 
autograph ! "said the man who, was busy conquering a world. 
Goethe, being an author, had waited, expecting this, and so 
was not disappointed. 

Frankfort was looted, but not burned. Money, jewelry and MAYER A. 
portable wealth were all the French wanted. The Castle was ROTHSCHILD 
used as a stable, and the paintings and statuary served as 
targets for the rollicking soldiers who had exploited the 
wine-cellars. The vast amount of specie, which was reported 
the Elector possessed, was missing — the strong-boxes were 
empty. Soldiers were set to work digging all about the house 
for signs of hidden treasure, but none was found. 
The Elector and his family were distributed, as they say of 
the type in limited editions. Gone — no one knew where ! 
The French visited the Ghetto, but by order of Napoleon, 
his soldiers were never severe upon the Jews. The Jews had 
little or nothing to do with politics, and Napoleon with his 
usual nonchalance said, "They have suffered enough!" 
Napoleon called himself **The Protector of the Oppressed,'' 
and tried occasionally to live up to his self-conferred title. 
^The Red Shield received a call, and Mayer Rothschild 
handed over his keys to the officer, in person. The house was 
searched, and cash to the extent of ten thousand thalers 
appropriated. The officer gave Rothschild a receipt for the 
amount, and assured the banker it was but a loan. He 
thanked Rothschild for his courtesy. They drank a bottle of 
wine together, and the Frenchman, with profuse apologies, 
excused himself, having pressing duties to perform, and 
withdrew, first cordially shaking hands. The French were 
convinced that when William the Elector fled, he had taken 
with him his money. That he should have entrusted it to an- 
other, and especially a Jew, seemed preposterous. Yet such 
was the case. William had fled, disguised as a civil engineer, 
carrying with him in his chaise an outfit of surveying instru- 
ments. All of his money had been turned over to Mayer 
Anselm Rothschild. The many biographers place the sum 
anywhere from one to fifty million dollars. The fact seems 


MAYER A. to be that it was a little less than two million. Not even 
ROTHSCHILD a receipt was given for the money, for such a document 
might have led to locating the gold ^ The Elector would 
not even count it. He said, **If I do not come back, it is yours 
— you helped me to get it. If I return, you are an honest 
man — and that is all there is about it." The Jew was touched 
to tears. The obligation was one fraught with great risk, for 
the money, and for himself. But there was only one thing to 
do — assume the responsibility. 

That this vast sum of money was given into the hands of 
Rothschild, no one has ever denied. But as to how he secreted 
it from the French has been explained by the very childlike 
tale that he buried it in the garden back of his house. 
In the first place, there were no gardens in the Ghetto, and 
in the second place, money buried in a garden yields no 
return, and cannot to advantage be left there forever. 
At this time England was just becoming a Mecca for Jews, 
for no matter how much the Corsican had to say about his 
regard for the Jews, they had no regard for him. He stood for 
war and violence, and his soldiers, as a rule, knew not their 
master's leniency for the Jew. Banks, vaults, and the shops 
of jewelers stood small chance in the face of an advancing 
army, drunk on success. QMany Jews, rich and poor, were 
fleeing to England. Rothschild had special boats under his 
direction upon which he sold passages to his brethren J^ 
Even before the treasure of the Elector was placed in his 
hands he had inwardly planned for its transportation. Eng- 
land was then the safest country in Europe. England, alone, 
was the one country that had not been seriously threatened 
by revolution. And it was the one country that was reasonably 
safe from the grasp of the French. ^ Rothschild's faith in 
England was proven when he sent all of his own spare cash 
to London. That he would transport there the treasure of 

William the Elector, was the one purpose in his mind. And MAYER A. 
how to carry it ! You may send treasure by armed guards, in ROTHSCHILD 
which case you invite attack by advertising what you are doing. 
Or you can divide your money up among poor travelers, and 
by sending your people at different times, thus lessen the risk. 
Rothschild had been entrusting the safe transportation of 
money to London in the care of Jews — poor Jews. And now 
he picked his immigrants and took them into his confidence. 
^He was an honest man — the title of the Honest Jew was 
his by divine right. To serve him was looked upon as a 
precious privilege. And now almost every mother of a big 
family, bound for England and freedom, carried around her 
ample waist a belt of gold. It was to be given to Nathan 
Rothschild, the son of Mayer Rothschild, who was now 
established as a banker in London, as soon as she and her 
brood reached London. 

Rothschild trusted the poor and lowly, and in so doing his 
faith, so far as we know, was never misplaced. It is not at 
all likely that the Jews knew whose money it was they were 
carrying, nor did they know that several hundred other Jews 
were being trusted in a similar way. All they knew was that 
Mayer Anselm had come to them and asked them as a great 
favor, as a friend, to carry this belt and give it to his dear ^ 

son, Nathan, in England. Of course Rothschild's confidence 
was not misplaced. A few years later this was the Rothschild 
method of transporting treasure all over Europe — to dispatch 
say a hundred poor Jews at different times, and mixed up 
among them was the treasure. Honest men can safely trust 
others — honest men, as a rule, are safe even with rogues. 
There is a spiritual law which governs here — askBenLindseyl 
And so the treasure which had originally come from England, 
found its way back to Britain. It was deposited among 
various banks and bankers, to the personal credit of the 


MAYER A. House of Rothschild, drawing interest at five per cent. 
ROTHSCHELD qin the meantime Mayer Anselm remained at Frankfort, 
living in the Red Shield, occupying the little shop which had 
been occupied by his father. He smoked his big pipe, smiled, 
went to prayers — and waited. When the French soldiers 
had gutted his safe, he sighed, shrugged his shoulders, and 
said, **It is the Lord's will — those whom he loveth he 
chasteneth. Blessed be the name of the Lord. " ^ He waited. 

OTHSCHILD brought his children 
up to economize time and money, 
and to be useful. In childhood, all 
had served as clerks and helpers in 
the little bank — the girls included. 
They were bankers by prenatal 
tendency and by education. So 
strong was the banking instinct in 
the family, that three of the girls 
married men who afterward be- 
came bankers, probably being led 
into the financial way they should 
walk through marital influences. And so they were duly 
absorbed into the great House of Rothschild. In order to facili- 
tate the business of the Landgrave, who had considerable 
property in Hanover, Rothschild sent his third son, Nathan 
there and established a bank. This boy Nathan was the finan- 
cial genius of the family. He was the only one of the five boys 
who surpassed their father in initiative. And this is saying 
much, because the other four were all strong and able men. 
Anselm, the oldest boy, took his father's work and became 

head of the Frankfort house. Salomon managed the branch MAYER A. 
at Vienna; Nathan founded the branch in Hanover, and ROTHSCHILD 
turned it over to one of his brothers-in-law and went to 
London; Carl did good work at Paris, and James was at 
Naples and Rome. In addition to these six principal banks, 
the House of Rothschild had agencies in over forty different 
European cities. William the Elector had turned his money 
over to Rothschild in the year Eighteen Hundred and Six. He 
had remained in hiding for four years. The French had placed 
a price upon his head on account of his having sold his 
troops to the English to fight the French. He had not com- 
municated with Rothschild for fear of involving him. 
And now behold! like lightning out of a clear sky, came a 
pardon from Napoleon, **for all alleged offenses," and a 
reinstatement of the House of Hesse-Cassel to its former 
proud position. This whole procedure was essentially 
Napoleonic. The Corsican killed or kissed, as the mood took 
him. Napoleon hated the Emperor Frederick II. who had 
done the deposing, and as a sort of insult or rebuke to that 
particular royal party, he sought out the man's enemies and 
exalted them. ^ William came out of hiding, back to Frank- 
fort, and was received by the people with open arms. He 
sought out Rothschild at his office in the Judengasse of the 
Ghetto. The banker received him with courtesy, but with- 
out emotion. fl**My money — my treasure, Mayer Anselm, 
— the French stole it from you I know,'* said William. 
** Spare me the details, I only come to you now for a loan — 
you will not refuse me — we were boys together, Mayer 
Anselm, boys together. I loved you. Fate has smitten me sore, 
but now I have my name back and my broken estate — I 
must begin all over jt The loan — you will not refuse me?" 
The banker coughed gently, smiled, and answered, **I regret 
I have no money to loan now, but the funds you deposited 


MAYER A. with me are safe. The best I can do is to give you Exchange 
ROTHSCHILD on London, with such little ready money as you now require. 
^I have been expecting you, so here is the schedule. The 
principal, with interest at five per cent makes me your 
debtor for a little over two million thalers. My son Nathan, 
in London, has the money subject to your check." 
William stared, started, clutched the bars across the little 
window for support, and burst into tears. He was taken to 
the residence part of the house, and Letizia served him with 
tea and things Kosher. William became calm, and then 
declared, "The principal, Mayer, I shall never touch. I should 
not know what to do with it, anyway. Pay me two per cent 
interest on it and it is all I shall ever ask. "And it was so done. 

AYER ANSELM died in Eighteen 
Hundred and Twelve, aged sixty- 
nine. But long before he passed 
out he had fixed in the minds of 
his children the wisdom of being 
loyal to the family interests. **One 
banking house may fail, but five 
standing true to each other, in 
different countries, never can," 
he said. 

Nathan had gravitated by divine 
right to the head of the concern. 
flin times of doubt all the others looked to him. 
To Nathan Rothschild must be given the credit for a financial 
stroke that lifted the Rothschilds absolutely out and away 
from competition. ^ It was the spring of Eighteen Hundred 

and Fifteen. Napoleon had been banished to Elba, and now MAYER A. 
returned like a conquering hero. His magnetic name was ROTHSCHILD 
rolling opposition before him as the sun dissipates the clouds. 
Europe was in a tumult of terror! 

Would Napoleon do again what he had done before — trample 
the cities beneath his inconsiderate feet and parcel out the 
people and the land among his favorites ! 
England was shaken to her centre. "This time Britain shall 
not go unpunished,' * declared the Corsican. 
Business was paralyzed. The banks were not loaning a dollar ; 
many had closed and refused to honor the checks of de- 
positors. People with money were hoarding it. England was 
trjdng to raise funds to strengthen her defenses, and fit out 
her soldiery in better fighting shape, but the money was not 
forthcoming. Government bonds had dropped to sixty-five, 
and a new loan at seven per cent had met with only a few 
straggling applications. 

This was the condition on the First of June, Eighteen Hun- 
dred and Fifteen. The Armies of the Allies were gathering 
gear for a final struggle, but there were those who declared 
that if Napoleon should walk out before certain divisions of 
this Army, wearing his uniform of the Little Corporal, 
bearing no weapons, and address the soldiers as brothers, 
they would throw down their guns and cry, **Command us!" 
q Nathan Rothschild there in London made his plans. With 
him to think was to act. There was no time to consult his 
brothers or his mother, as he usually did on affairs of great 
moment. He called his cashier, and gave him quick and 
final orders: "I am going across to the Continent. I shall 
see the downfall of Napoleon — or his triumph. If Napoleon 
goes down, I shall send a letter to myself — a blank sheet of 
paper in an envelope. When you get this, buy English Bonds 
— buy quickly, but use a dozen different men, so as not to 


MAYER A. stampede the market. We have a million pounds in British 
ROTHSCHILD go^^ — ^^e it all, and buy, if necessary up to five points of par." 
He rode away on horseback. He left a man with a strong 
and fast horse every forty miles from London to Dover, 
then from Calais to Brussels. A swift-sailing yacht waited 
at Calais, and there was a reward of one hundred guineas 
for the captain if he crossed the Channel inside of four hours, 
after getting a special letter addressed to Nathan Roths- 
child. There was a rich reward also for each rider if he rode 
his forty miles in less than four hours. 
Rothschild watched away the night of the Seventeenth of 
June, circling uneasily the outposts of Brussels. 
He saw the Battle of Waterloo — or such of that mad con- 
fusion as was visible. He saw the French ride headlong into 
that open ditch ; and he saw the last stand of the Old Guard. 
^Whether Napoleon was beaten or not no one could say. 
**He '11 be back tomorrow with reinforcements,** many said. 
Nathan Rothschild thought otherwise. 
At nightfall he drew the girth of his saddle two holes tighter, 
threw away his pistols, coat and hat, and rode away, on a 
gentle patter. After two miles this was increased to a stiff 
gallop. He knew his horse — he was turning off each mile in 
just five minutes. He rode sixty miles in five hours, using up 
three horses. The messenger to whom he tossed his saddle- 
bags asked no questions, but leaping astride his horse, 
dived into the darkness and was gone. Rothschild's men were 
twenty-four hours ahead of the regular post. 
When the news reached London that Wellington had won, 
the Banking House of Rothschild had no cash, but its safe 
was stuffed with English Securities. 

Nathan Rothschild made his way leisurely back to London. 
^On arriving there he found himself richer by over five 
hundred thousand pounds, than he was when he rode away. 


N Eighteen Hundred and Twenty- MAYER A. 
two, the Emperor of Austria ROTHSCHILD 
conferred the title of Baron on the 
sons of Mayer Anselm Roths- 
child J> Jt> 

It was the first and only time in 
history where five brothers were 
so honored at one time. 
Certain sarcastic persons have 
pointed out the fact that this 
wholesale decoration was done 
immediately after the Roths- 
childs had floated a rather large and risky loan for his 
Kingship. This is irrelevant, inconsequential, and outside 
the issue. That the house of Rothschild with its branches 
had an open sesame upon the purse-strings of Europe for 
half a century, is a fact. Nations in need of cash had to 
apply to the Rothschilds. The Rothschilds did n't loan them 
the money — they merely looked after the details of the 
loan, and guaranteed the lender that the interest would 
not be defaulted. Their agencies everywhere were in touch 
with investors. The nobility are a timid sort — they like to 
invest their hard-earned savings outside of their bailiwick 
— nobody knows what will happen ! 

The Rothschilds would not float a loan until they were 
assured that the premises were not mortgaged. More than 
this, there was a superstition all 'round that they were backed 
up by J. Bull, and J. Bull is a close collector. 
The Rothschilds made government loans popular — before 
this, kings got their cash mostly by coercion. 
For their services the Rothschilds asked only the most modest 
fee — a fee so small it was absurd — a sixteenth of one per 
cent, or something like that. 


MAYER A. The bonds were issued and offered at par. If they would 
ROTHSCHILD not sell at par, they were placed on 'Change and sold at 
what they would bring. 

What was n't taken by the public, brought, oh, say around 
seventy-five. Unkind people say the Rothschilds beared all 
bonds which they, themselves, desired to buy. Concerning 
this I am not competent to speak. It was n't their fault if 
Leopold's credit was bad — mein Gott im Himmel! 
It is safe to say that only one Government in the world, at 
some time or other from Eighteen Hundred and Fifteen to 
Eighteen Hundred and Seventy, never courted the Roths- 
childs with** intentions." ^America never quite forgot, nor 
forgave, that Hessian incident, and the Rothschilds were 
never asked for favors by your Uncle Samuel. 
There were four generations of the Rothschilds among 
whom there have been very able men. This beats the rule 
by three generations, and the record by one. 
The Frankfort House of Rothschild was dissolved in 
Nineteen Hundred and One. The London firm still continues, 
but I am advised by John D. Rockefeller, J. Pierpont Morgan 
and James J. Hill that the Rothschilds, while interesting 
in an historic way, are no longer looked upon as a world 
power. ^Letizia, the mother of ten, is worthy of more 
space than I am able here to give her ^ There are those 
who say she was the real founder of the House of Roths- 
child. She died aged exactly one hundred, in the Red 
Shield, where she was married and where all of her 
children were bom. ^She outlived the fall of Napoleon 
just forty years. She had a fine and pardonable pride in 
her kingly sons. ^ Politics and world problems interested 
her. She was sane and sensible and happy to the last. 


by Elbert Hubbard in Booklet Form- 
Frontispiece Portrait of Each Subject. 

Frederick Chopin 
Felix Mendelssohn 
Samuel Coleridge 
Benjamin Disraeli 
Mark Antony 
John Wesley 
Henry George 
Thomas Paine 
Richard Cobden 
John Knox 
John Bright 
Robert Owen 

Charles Bradlaugh 

Theodore Parker 

Oliver Cromwell 

Anne Hutchinson 

Jean Rousseau 





King Alfred 

Friedrich Froebel 

Booker Washington 

Thomas Arnold 



Mary Baker Eddy 

The Price is TEN CENTS Each, or One Dollar 
for Ten — as long as they last. 


East Aurora, Erie County, New York 




I enclose Two Dollars to pay for a yearly 
subscription to THE FRA Magazine. 



Date ^ 


CHECK YOUR CHOICE. One of these beautiful 
Roycroft books, gratis, with every subscription for 


HEALTH AND WEALTH .... ^Hubbard 

The Broncho Book - ----- Capt. Jack Crawford 

Woman's Work -------- Alice Hubbard 

Battle of Waterloo - - Victor Hugo 

White Hyacinths - Elbert Hubbard 

The Rubaiyat --------- Omar Khayyam 

A William Morris Book - - - Hubbard and Thomson 
Crimes against Criminals - - - - Robert G. Ingersoll 

A Christmas Carol -------- Charles Dickens 

The Ballad of Reading Gaol ----- Oscar Wilde 

Justinian and Theodora - - Elbert and Alice Hubbard 



OR Nineteen Hundred and Nine, Little Journeys 
by Elbert Hubbard will be to the homes of Great 
Business Men. Mr. Hubbard has been farm-hand, 
office boy, printer's devil, foreman, editor, mana- 
ger, proprietor. He is an economist himself — an economist 
of time, money and materials. Mr. Hubbard is a Farmer ; 
he also operates a Bank, a Hotel, a Printing-shop, a Book- 
bindery and a Guinea-hen Garage. 






THE FRA Magazine, Two Dollars a year 

LITTLE JOURNEYS, One Dollar a year 

BOTH FOR TWO DOLLARS if you Subscribe at Once 

The Roycrofters, East Aurora, New York 

I am a writing man and I know the difficulties of the craft ; and I say that' 
Elbert Hubbard is the greatest writer — vocabulary and range of ideas consid- 
ered — that the world has ever seen, ancient or modern. — ROBERT BARR 
Young writers intent on style can not do better than read Elbert Hubbard. 
He says big things in tabloid.—ALFRED HENRY LEWIS 
Elbert Hubbard is the only man in America who has the English language 
firmly by the tail.— JOAQUIN MILLER 

We are not surprised that Elbert Hubbard's Little Journeys are being introduced 
into our High Schools as text books. Fra Elbertus writes as he feels and he usually 
feels right. He is more interested in life than in literature ; he is so full of his 
subject that he radiates it. And if he occasionally walks all over oiu* old-time 
rules of rhetoric, we are the gainers. Many a book has been regarded as 
profound when it was only stupid. In his writing, Elbert Hubbard is as vivid 
as Victor Hugo, as rippling as Heinrich Heine, as tender as Jean Paul ; and 
we must remember that the chief charge brought against all of these men was 
that they were interesting. Nowadays we do not consider dullness a virtue. We 
shun the turgid and lugubrious. We ask for life.— CHICAGO INTER-OCEAN 

Books by Elbert Hubbard 

Respectability - - - - - $ 2.00 

The Man of Sorrows - - - 2*00 

Love, Life and Work - - - - 2.00 

White Hyacinths - _ . . " 2.00 

Health and Wealth - - - - 2.00 
Time and Chance — A Narrative Life of John Brown ; 

850 pages, in limp leather, silk lined - 2. 50 

No Enemy But Himself - - - 1.25 

The following LITTLE JOURNEYS are on hand-made paper, hand illumined, 
limp leath^, silk lined, illustrated, a very beautiful book (some folks think) 

Little JoimNEYS to Homes of Good Men and Great $ 3. 00 

'American Authors - - - - 3.00 

Famous Women - - - - 3.00 

American Statesmen - - - 3.00 

Eminent Painters - - - - 3.00 

English Authors, Book 1 - - - 3.00 

English Authors, Book II - - - 3.00 

Great Musicians, Book I - - - 3.00 

Great Musicians, Book II - - - 8.00 

Eminent Artists, Book I - - - 3.00 

Eminent Artists, Book II - - - 8.00 

Eminent Orators, Book I - - - 8.00 

Eminent Orators, Book II - - - 8.00 

Great Philosophers, Book I . - s.oo 

Great Philosophers, Book II - - - 8.00 

Great Scientists, Book I - - - 8.00 

Great Scientists, Book II - - - 8.00 

Great Lovers, Book I - - - 3.00 

Great Lovers, Book II - - - 8.00 

Great Reformers, Book I - - - 8.00 

Great Reformers, Book II - - - 8.00 

Great Teachers, Book I - 8.00 

Great Teachers, Book II - - - 3.00 

THE ROYCROFTERS, East Aurora, New York 

OTHIN G IS mote 


< ; I ^■j 


! Venemlil 

than Fidelity* 

Faithfulness and Truth aie trie 
most Sacred Excellences and 
Endowments of the Humkh 

Mind.— G/cero 

,=sr ,x ,sr ,3sr 






Vol. 24 

















more indebted 
than Ingenui- 
ty; the gods set up their 
favors at a price, and 
Industry is the purchaser 


Entered at the postoffice at East Aurora. New York, for transmission as second^Iass matter 
Copyright, 1908, by Elbert Hubbard, Editor and Publisher 



occurs at East Aurora, Erie County, New York, 
July First to Tenth, Nineteen Hundred and 
Nine, inclusive. On this very pleasant occasion 
there will be present many men and women 
of quality; honest, simple, sincere and friendly 
folks who have thoughts and know how to 
express them. §The Musical Events provided 
this year are the best we have ever had — which 
is saying much. Two Formal Programs daily, 
with walks and talks afield, betimes, and much 
good=fellowship and flow of soul. To guests 
at The Roycroft Inn there is no charge for 
admittance to any of our classes, lectures or 
entertainments. §You are invited to be 
present. ^ Rates at The Inn are Two Dollars 
a day and up, according to apartments, 
American Plan. ^A postal card, stating about 
when you will arrive, will be appreciated. 



Summer Advertisers 

[AST AURORA will hold five Con- 
ventions this Summer. Starting with 
the Socialists, and ending with the 
Merry Musicians, throngs of the 
Intellectually Elect will commune 
during the hot months, 'neath the shelter of 
the Home Peristyle :fi;fi:fi:f::fi;fi^:fi:fi 


Twentieth to Thirtieth. 

to Tenth. 

August First to Tenth. 

— August Twelfth to Twentieth. 

Twenty=third to September First. 

This then would seem to be a splendid season for Wise 
Advertisers to approach with a Good Proposition people 
whose convolutions are not corroded. QSuch Folks lend 
Class to your following Jt Win them today and they are 
with you for all time. QTHE FRA will be the Magazine 
on the Spot. Its Advertising Pages are Open to all (and 
only) High-Grade Advertisers ^^^^jt^Jijt 


THE FRA Advertising Department 











aa N//HKH-l9-in gjZSl)Z 

ANYBODY can cut prices, but it 
takes brains to make a better 
article. — Philip D. Armour. 


HILIP ARMOUR was bom on May 
Sixteenth, Eighteen Hundred and 
Thirty-two, near the little village 
of Stockbridge, New York. He died 
at Chicago, January Sixth, Nine- 
teen Hundred and One ^ The 
farm owned by his father was 
right on the line between Madison 
and Oneida Counties. The boys 
used to make a scratch in the road 
and dare the boys from Madison 
to come across in Oneida. The 
Armour farm adjoined the land 
of the famous Oneida Community, 
where was worked out one of the most famous social 
experiments ever attempted in the history of civilization. 
However, the Armour family constituted a little community 
of its own, and was never induced to abandon family life 
for the group. Yet for John Humphrey Noyes, Danforth 
Armour 5ways had great respect. But he was philosopher 
enough to know that one generation would wind up the 
scheme, for the young would all desert, secrete millinery 
and mate as young men and maidens have done since time 
began. ** Oneida is for those whose dream did not come 
true — mine has," he said. 

The Armours of Stockbridge traced a pedigree to Jean Armour, 
of Ayr, brown as a berry, pink and twenty, sweet and thrifty, 
beloved of Bobby Burns. 

The father of Philip was Danforth Armour and the father 
of Danforth Armour was James Armour, Puritan, who 
emigrated from the north of Ireland jt James settled in 
Connecticut and fortified his Scotch-Irish virtues with a 
goodly mixture of the New England genius for hard work, 
economy and religion. His grandfather had fought side by 
side with Oliver Cromwell and had gone into battle with that 
doughty hero singing the songs of Zion. He was a Congrega- 
tionalist by prenatal influence ^ And I need not here 
explain that the love of freedom fotmd form in Congrega- 
tionalism, a religious denomination without a pope, and 
without a bishop, where one congregation was never dictated 
to nor ruled by any other. Each congregation was complete 


PHILIP D. [n itself — or was supposed to be. ^This love of liberty was 
ARMOUR the direct inheritance of James Armour. It descended to 
Danforth Armour and by him was passed along to Philip 
Danforth Armour. All of these men had a very sturdy pride 
of ancestry, masked by modesty, which oft reiterated, **0h, 
pedigree is nothing — it all lies in the man. You do or else 
you don't. To your quilting, girls — to your quilting I " 
When Nancy Brooks was beloved by Danforth Armour the 
fates were propitious. The first women school-teachers in 
America evolved in Connecticut. Miss Brooks was a school- 
teacher, the daughter of a farmer for whom Danforth Armour 
worked as a hired man. 

Danforth was given to boasting a bit, as to the part his 
ancestors had played as neighbors to Oliver Cromwell, at 
the time, and the only time, when England was a republic. 
Q|Miss Brooks did not like this kind of talk and told the 
young man so straight at his red head. The Brooks family 
was ^otch, too, but they had fought on the side of Royalty. 
They were never rebels — they were true to the King — exactly 
80 1 QNow there are two kinds of Scotch — the fair and the dark 
— the Highland and the Lowland — the Aristocrats and the 
Peasantry. Miss Brooks was dark, and she succeeded in 
convincing the freckled and sandy-haired man that he was 
of a race of rebels, also that the rule of the rebels was brief, 
brief, my lord, as woman's love. Then they argued as to the 
alleged brevity of woman's love. ^ Here they were getting on 
dangerous ground. Nature is a trickster, and she spread her 
net and caught the Highland maid and the Lowland laddie, 
and bound them as with green withes as is her wont. So they 
were married by the Congregational "meenister," and for a 
wedding tour fared forth westward to fame and fortune. **Out 
West " then meant York State, and the * * Far West " was Ohio. 
They reached Oneida County, New York, and stopped for 
a few days ere they pushed on to the frontier. The site was 
beautiful, the location favorable. And the farmer at whose 
house they were making their stay was restless and wanted 
to sell out. ^ That night the young couple talked it over. They 
liad a few hundred dollars saved, sewed in a belt and in a dress 
bodice.They got the money out and recounted it. In the morning 
they told their host how much money they had and offered 
to give him all of this money for his farm. He was to leave 
them a yoke of oxen, a cow, a pig and six sheep.QHe accepted 
the offer, the money was paid, the deed made out and the man 

vacated, leaving the bride and groom in possession. So here 
they lived their lives; here they worked, planned, aspired, 
prospered; here their children were born and raised; and 
down at the village cemetery they sleep, side by side. In life 
they were never separated and in death they are not divided. 


HE first requisite in education," 
said Herbert Spencer, "is that man 
shall be a good animal." 
Philip D. Armour fulfilled the re- 
quirements. He was dowered with 
a vital power that fed his restless 
brain and made him a dynamo of 
energy for sixty-nine years — and 
with a little care at the last should 
have run for ninety years with 
never a hot box. 

He used to say, "If my ancestors 
had been selected for me by Greek 
philosophers, specialists in heredity, 
they could not have done better. I caimot imagine a better 
woman than my mother. My childhood was ideal. God did 
not overlook me. " ^ Well did this happy, exuberant, healthy 
man say that his parentage and childhood environment were 
ideal. Here was a family of six boys and three girls, brought 
up on a beautiful hillside farm amid as peaceful and lovely a 
landscape as ever the sun shone upon. Down across the creek 
there were a hundred acres of bottom-land that always laughed 
a harvest under the skilful management of Danforth Armour. 
Yet the market for surplus products was distant, so luxury 
and leisure were out of the question. And yet work was n't 
drudgery. Woods, hills, running streams, the open road, the 
sawmill and the grist-mill, the path across the meadow, — 
the miracle of the seasons, the sugar-bush, the freshet that 
carried away the bridge, the first spring flowers peeping 
from beneath the snow on the south side of rotting logs, the 
trees bursting into leaf, the hills white with blossoms of 
wild cherry and hawthorn, the Saturday afternoon when 
the boys could fish, the old swimming hole, the bathing of 


PHILIP D. *^® ^^^^ o^®s in the creek, the growing crops in the bottom- 
ARMOUR l^Jid, bee-trees and wild honey, coon hunts by moonlight, 
the tracks of deer down by the salt-lick, bears in the green 
corn, harvest-time, hog-killing days, frost upon the pumpkin 
and fodder in the shock, wild turkeys in the clearing, revival 
meetings, spelling-bees, debates at the schoolhouse, school 
at the log schoolhouse in Stockbridge, barn raisings, dances 
in the new barn, quilting-bees, steers to break, colts to ride, 
apple butter, soft soap, pickled pig's feet, smoked hams, side 
meat, shelled walnuts, coonskins on the barn door, winter 
and the first fall of snow, boots to grease, harness to mend, 
backlogs, hickory-nuts, cider, a few books and all the other 
wonderfiil and enchanting things that a country life, not too 
isolated, brings to the boys and girls born where the rain 
makes musical patter on the roof and the hands of a loving 
mother tucks you in at night I 

Here was a mother who gave to the world six sons, five of 
whom grew to an honored manhood and proved themselves 
men of power. One of the girls, Marietta, was a woman of 
extraordinary personality, as picturesquely heroic as Philip 
Armour, himself. 

This mother never had a servant-girl, a laundress or a dress- 
maker. The manicure and the beauty doctor were still in 
the matrix of time, as yet unguessed. 

On Sunday there was a full wagon-load of Armours, big and 
little, to go to the Congregational Church at Stockbridge. Let 
us hope the wagon was yellow and the horses grey. 
Do not imagine that a family like this is lonely. There is 
constant work; the day is packed with duties, and night 
comes with its grateful rest. There is no time to be either 
bad or unhappy, nor is there leisure to reflect on your virtues. 
No one line of thought receives enough attention to disturb 
the balance of things. To be so busy that you **forget it," is 
very fortunate. The child brought up with a happy proportion 
of play and responsibility, of work and freedom, of love and 
discipline has surely not been overlooked by Providence. 
The ** problem of education, " is only a problem to the super- 
latively wise and the tremendously great. To plain people 
life is no problem. Things become complex only when we 
worry over them. 
So the recipe for educating children is this : Educate yourself. 


HEN Philip Armour was nineteen puiLIP D. 
the home nest seemed crowded. ARMOUR 
The younger brothers were coming 
along to do the work and the ab- 
sence of one **will be one less to 
feed" he said to his mother. 

W ^^JIKj The gold-fields of California were 
^pcr^ calling. This mother was too sen- 
^k>Vj sible and loving to allow her boy 
to run away — if he was going, he 
should go with her blessing. She 
got together a hundred dollars in 
cash. With this and a pack on his 

back Philip started on foot for the 

land of Eldorado jt Four men were in the party, all from 
Oneida County. 

He walked all the way and arrived on schedule, after a 
six months* journey. Philip was the only one in the party 
who did not grow sick nor weary. One died, two turned back, 
but Philip trudged on with the procession that seemed to 
increase as it neared the gold-fields. 

Arriving in California, this very sensible country boy figured 
it out that mining was a gamble. A very few grew rich, but 
the many were desperately poor. Most of those who got a 
little money ahead spent it in prospecting for bigger finds 
and soon were again penniless. He decided that he would not 
bet on anything but his own ability. Instead of digging for 
gold, he set to work digging ditches for men who had mines, 
but no water. This making ditches was plain labor, without 
excitement, chance or glamour. You knew beforehand just 
how much you would make. Philip was strong and patient — 
he could work from sunrise to sunset. 
He was paid five dollars a day. ^ Then he took contracts to 
dig ditches and sometimes he made ten dollars a day. Parties 
who were "busted" and wished to borrow were offered a job. 
He set them to work and paid them for what they did, and 
no more. It was all a question of mathematics. In five years 
Philip Armour had saved eight thousand doUars.It was enough 
to buy the best farm in Oneida County and this was all he 
wanted. There was a girl back there who had taunted him 
and dared him to go away and make his fortune. They parted 
in a tiff — that 's the way she got rid of him. There was 
another man in the case, but Philip was too innocent to know 


PHILIP D. this. The peaceful hills of New York lured and beckoned. He 
ARMOUR responded to the call and started back home. In half the time 
it took to go, he had arrived. But alas, the hills had shrunken. 
The mighty stream that once ran through Stockbridge was 
but a rill. ^ And the girl — the girl had married another — a 
worthy horse-doctor. ^ Philip called on her. She was yellow 
and tired and had two fine babies. She was glad to see her old 
friend Philip, but the past was as dead to her as the present. 
In her hand-grasp there was no thrill. She had given him a 
big chase ; and soon his sadness made way for gratitude in that 
she had married the horse-doctor. He gave them his blessing. 
Philip looked around at farms — several were for sale, but 
none suited him. 

On the way back from California he had traveled by way of 
the Great Lakes and stopped two days at Milwaukee. It was 
a fine city — a growing place, the gateway of the West and 
the market-place where the vessels loaded for the East. 
^ Milwaukee had one rival — Chicago, eighty-five miles south 
— but Chicago was on low, flat, marshy ground. It would 
always be a city, of course, because it was the end of navi- 
gation, but Milwaukee would feed and stock the folks who 
were westward bound. So to Milwaukee went Philip Armour, 
resolved to there stake his fortune in trade Jt, Opportunity 
offered and he joined with Fred B. Miles, on March First, 
Eighteen Hundred and Fifty-nine, in the produce and com- 
mission business. Each man put in five hundred dollars. The 
business prospered. One of the great products in demand was 
smoked and pickled meats. At that time farmers salted and 
smoked hams and brought them to town, with furs, pelts 
and bags of wheat, fl All the tide of humanity that streamed 
into Milwaukee, westward bound, bought smoked or pickled 
meats — something that would keep and be always handy. 
fl These were winter-packed. The largest packer was John 
Plankinton, who was a success. John was knowing, and he 
made Phil. Armour his junior partner, as Plankinton & 
Armour. Then business sizzled. They were at the plant at 
four o'clock in the morning. They discovered how to make 
a hog yield four hams. Our soldiers needed the hams and 
the barreled pork, so shortly more hogs came to market. 
The war's end found the new firm much stronger and well 
stocked with large orders for mess pork, sold for future 
delivery at war-time prices, which contracts they filled at 
a much lower cost and to their financial satisfaction. Their 

guesser was good and they prospered. ^Meantime, the city PHILIP D. 

of Chicago grew. It grew faster than Milwaukee. There was ARMOUR 

a rich country south of Chicago, as well as west, and of this 

Philip Armour had really never thought. Q Chicago was a 

better market for pickled pork and corned beef than 

Milwaukee, as more boats fitted out there, and more emigrants 

were landing on their way to take up government land. 

flOne of Mr. Armour's brothers, Joe, was a packer in Chicago. 

Another brother, H. O., was in the commission business 

there. Joe's health was bad, so in Eighteen Hundred and 

Seventy, Philip Armour came to Chicago, and shortly the 

house of Armour & Company came into being — H. O. 

Armour going to New York to look after Eastern trade and 

financing. In those days branch houses were unknown and 

packing house products were handled by jobbers. 

the Father of the Packing House 
Industry ^ The business of the 
Packing House Industry is to 
gather up the food products of 
America and distribute them to 
the world. 

Let the fact here be stated that 
the world is better fed today than 
it ever has been since Herodotus 
sharpened his faber and began 
writing history, four hundred and 
fifty years before Christ. ^ In this 
matter of food, the danger today 
lies in overeating and not in lack of provender. ^The business 
of Armour & Company is to buy from the producer and 
distribute to the consumer. flSo Armour & Company have 
to satisfy two parties — the producer and the consumer. Both 
being fairly treated have a perfect right to grumble. 
The buyer of things which Nature forces the man to buy, 
is usually a complainer, and he complains of the seller 
because he is near, just as a man kicks the cat and takes 
it out on his wife, or the mother scolds the children. ^To the 


PHILIP D. farmers, Armour used to say with stunning truth, **You get 
ARMOUR more for your produce today than you got before I showed 
up on the scene ; and you get your money on the minute, 
without haggle or question. I furnish you an instantaneous 
market. "flTo the consumer he said, "I supply you with 
regularity and I give you quality at a price more advan- 
tageous to you than your local butcher can command. My profit 
lies in that which has always been thrown away. As for 
sanitation, go visit your village slaughter-house and then 
come and see the way I do it!" 

Upton Sinclair scored two big points on Packingtown and 
its Boss Ogre. They were these: First, the Ogre hired men 
and paid them to kill animals. Second, these dead animals 
were distributed by the Ogre and his minions and the corpses 
eaten by men, women and children. ^ It was a revolting 
revelation. It even shook the nerves of a President, one of the 
killingest men in the world, who, not finding enough things 
to kill in America, has now gone to Africa to kill things, 
that their pelts may decorate our parlors. 
"You live on the dead," said the Eastern pundit, reproach- 
fully, out of his yellow turban, to the American, who had 
just ordered a ham sandwich. **And you eat the living," 
replied the American, as he handed a little hand microscope 
to the pundit and asked him to focus it upon his dinner of dried 
figs.The pundit looked at the figs through the glass, and behold, 
they were covered with crawling, wiggling, wriggling, living 
life I And then did the man from the East throw the micro- 
scope out of the window, and say, "Now there are no bugs 
on these figs ! " flThat which we behold too closely is apt to 
be repulsive. Fix your vision upon any of the various functions 
of life and the whole thing becomes disgusting, especially so if 
we contemplate the details of existence in others. Personally, 
of course, we, ourselves in thought and action are sweet 
and wholesome — but the others, oh, ah, bah, phew, ouch 
or words to that effect! 

Armour's remark about the village slaughter-house was 
getting close home. If bad meat was ever put out, it was 
from these secret places, managed by one or two men who 
did things in their own sweet way. Their work was not 
inspected. They themselves were the sole judges. There were 
not even employees to see and blackmail them if they failed 
to walk the chalk-line. They bought up cattle, drove them 
in at night and killed them. No effort was made to utilize 

the blood or offal and this putrifying mass advertised itself PHILIP D, 
for miles. Savage dogs and slaughter-houses go together, ARMOUR 
as all villagers know, and there were various good reasons 
why visitors did n*t go to see the local butcher perform his 
pleasing obligations. ^ The first slaughter-houses in Chicago 
were just like those in any village. They supplied the local 
market. ^ At first the offal was simply flung out in a pile. 
Then, when neighbors complained, holes were dug in the 
prairie and the by-product buried. ^ About Eighteen Hundred 
and Eighty-two, a decided change in methods occurred. The 
first thing done was to dry the blood, bones and meat scrap, 
and sell this for fertilizer. Next came the scientific treatment 
of the waste for glues and other products. Chemists were 
given a hearing, patient and most courteous. flOne day 
Armour beckoned C. H. MacDowell into his private office and 
said confidentially — **I say, Mac, if a man calls who looks 
like a genius or a fool, wearing long hair, whiskers and 
spectacles, treat him gently — he 's a German and may have 
something in his head beside dandruff. " ^ MacDowell is one 
of the big boys at Armour's. He was a stenographer, like my 
old Bryant & Stratton chum, Cortelyou, and in fact is very 
much such a man as Cortelyou. **Mac" is the head of the 
Armour Fertilizer Works and is distressed because he can't 
utilize the squeal — so much energy evaporating. It is his 
business to capitalize waste. ^ It was the joke of the place 
that if a German chemist arrived, all business was paralyzed 
until his secret was seized. Jena, Gottingen and Heidelberg 
became names to conjure with. Buttons were made from 
bones, glue from feet, combs and ornaments from horns, 
curled hair from tails, felt from wool, hair was cured for 
plaster, and the Armour Fertilizer Works slowly became 
grounded and founded on a scientific basis, where reliable 
advice as to growing cotton, rice, yams, potatoes, roses or 
violets could be had. ^**Meat" is the farmers' product. This 
meat is consumed by the people. One-half of our population 
are farmers and all farmers raise cattle, sheep, poultry and 
hogs. Trade follows the line of least resistance; and the 
natural thing is for the local butcher to slaughter, and supply 
his neighborhood. Q There is only one reason why the people 
in East Aurora should buy meat of Armour, as they 
occasionally do, and that is because Armour supplies better 
meat at a lower price than we can produce it. If Armour is 
higher in price than our local butcher, we buy of the local 


PHILIP D. man. The local butcher fixes the price, not Armour, and the 
ARMOUR local farmer fixes the price for the local butcher. Armour 
always and forever has to face this local competition. q**I am 
in partnership with the farmer, " Philip Armour used to say. 
"Their interests are mine and their confidence and good-will 
I must merit, or over goes my calabash. " ^ The success of 
capital lies in ministering to the people, not in taking 
advantage of them. § And every successful business house 
is built on the bed-rock of Reciprocity, Mutuality and Co- 
operation. That legal Latin maxim, **Let the buyer beware, " 
is a legal fiction. It should read, "Let the seller beware," for 
he who is intent on selling the people a different article than 
that which they want, or at a price beyond its value, will stay in 
trade about as long as that famous snowball will last in Biloxi. 

ESIDES being the father of the 
Packing House Industry, Philip 
D. Armour was a manufacturer 
of and a dealer in Portable Wis- 
dom. His teeming brain took in 
raw suggestions and threw off the 
completed product in the form of 
epigrams, phrases, orphics, sym- 
bols. To have caught these crumbs 
of truth that fell from the rich 
man's table, might have placed 
many a penny-a-liner beyond the 
reach of mental avarice. flOne 
man, indeed, swept up the crumbs 
into a book that is not half crumby. The man is George 
Horace Lorimer and his book is called, "Letters of a Self- 
made Merchant to his Son." 

Lorimer was a department manager for Armour and busied 
himself, it seems, a good deal of the time, in taking down 
disjecta, or the by-product of business. Armour was always 
sincere, but seldom serious. There is a lot of quiet fun yet 
among the Armour folks. When the Big Boys dine daily 
together, they always pass the persifiage. Lorimer showed 
me a bushel of notes — with which he proposes some day 


to Boswellize his former Chief. Incidentally, he requested PHILIP D. 
me to never mention it, but secrets being to give away, I ARMOUR ' 
state the fact here, in order to help along a virtuous and 
hard-working young man, the son of Rev. Dr. George C. 
Lorimer, a worthy Baptist preacher. 

"Keep at it, — do not be discouraged, Melville, a preacher's 
son is usually an improvement on the sire," said Philip D. 
Armour to Melville Stone, who was born at Hudson, McLean 
County, Illinois, the son of a Presiding Elder. 
**I 'm not worrying," replied the genealogical Stone, "You 
and I were both born in log houses, which puts us straight 
in line for the Presidency." q "Right you are, Melville, for a 
log house is built on the earth, and not in the clouds. " 
Then this came to Armour, and he could not resist the 
temptation to fire it, "Boys, all buildings that really endure 
are built from the ground up, never from the clouds down." 
^ No living man ever handed out more gratuitous advice than 
Philip Armour. He was the greatest preacher in Chicago. 
With every transaction, he passed out a premium in way of 
palaver ^ He loved the bustle of business, but into the 
business he butted a lot of talk — helpful, good-natured, 
kindly, paternal talk, and often there was a suspicion that 
he talked for the same reason that prize-fighters spar for time. 
^"Here, Robbins, get off this telegram, and remember that 
if the rolling stone gathers no moss, it at least acquires a 
bit of polish." ^ "Say — Urion, if you make a success as my 
lawyer you have got to get into the rings of Orion — be there 
yourself, the same as the man that 's ^to be hung. You can't 
send a substitute." 

To Comes — now Secretary of Armour & Company — "I 
suppose if I told you to jump in the lake you 'd do it. Use 
your head, young man — use your sky-piece I " And he did. 
^ This preaching habit was never pedantic, stiff or formal — 
it gushed out as the waters gushed forth from the rock after 
Moses had given it a few stiff raps with his staff. 
Armour called people by their first names as if they all 
belonged to his family, as they really did, for all mankind 
to him were one. He thought in millions, where other big 
men thought in hundreds of thousands, or average men 
thought in dozens. "Hiram," he once said to Rev. Hiram 
W. Thomas, for when he met you, you imagined he had 
been looking for you to tell you something; "Hiram, I like 
to hear you preach, for you are so deliberate, that as you 


PHILIP D. speak I am laying bets with myself as to which of a dozen 
ARMOUR things you are going to say. You supply me lots of fun. I 
can travel around the world before you get to your firstly." 
^ For all preachers he had a great attraction, and it was n't 
solely because he was a rich man. He supplied texts, and he 
supplied voltage. Most men put on a pious manner and 
become hypocritically proper when a preacher joins a group, 
but not so Philip Armour. If he used a strong word, or a 
simile uncurried, it was then. They liked it. 
**Mr. Armour, you might use a little of your language for 
fertilizer, if times were hard, " once said Robert Collyer. 
And the answer was, "Robert, I *m fertilizing a few of your 
fallow acres now, as any one who goes to hear you preach 
next Sunday will find out, if they know me. " 
A committee of four preachers once came to him from a 
country town a few miles out of Chicago, asking him to 
pay off the debt on their churches. It seems they had heard 
of the Armour benevolence and decided to beard the lion 
in his den. He listened to the plea, and then figured up on 
a pad the amount of the debts. It was fifteen hundred dollars. 
The preachers were encouraged — they had the ejaculation, 
"God bless you!" on tap, when Mr. Armour said, "Gentle- 
men, four churches in a town the size of yours are too many. 
Now, if you will consolidate and three of you will resign and 
go to farming, I *11 pay off this debt now. " 
The offer was not accepted. 

When Armour was asked to subscribe one thousand dollars 
to a fund to provide an auditorium and keep Prof. Swing 
in Chicago, Swing having just been tried for heresy, he said, 
"Chicago must not lose Swing — we need him. If I had a 
few of his qualities, and he had a few of mine, there would 
be two better men in Chicago today. Yes, we must keep 
Swing right here. Put me down for a thousand. I don't 
always understand what Swing is driving at, but that may 
' be my fault. And say, if you find you need five thousand 
from me, just let me know, and the money is yours. " 
There is no use trying to work the apotheosis of Philip D. 
Armour: he was in good sooth a man. "I make mistakes — 
but I do not respond to encores," he used to say. When a 
man told of spending five thousand dollars on the education 
of his son. Armour condoled with him thus, "Oh, never mind, 
he '11 come out all right — my education is costing me that 
inuch every week. " ^ Philip Armour was a very human 

individual. He liked to play the big and magnanimous, — PHILIP D. 
to give an elevator boy a dollar, or surprise a clerk by a ARMOUR 
saying he always had in electrotype, to wit: "Keep the 
change. " Often he would walk six blocks to save street-car 
fare, and on the way, hand a crossing sweeper fifty cents. 
Apple women were his protegees, and when newspapers came 
down to three cents and finally one, he always paid the boy 
five cents, and said, "Be honest, sonny, be industrious, be 
saving and you *11 win. " §One of the Big Boys at Armour's 
is a character called ** Alibi Tom." Time has tamed Alibi, 
but when he was twenty-two — well, he was twenty-two. 
flNow Philip Armour was an early riser, and at seven o'clock 
he used to be at the office ready for business, the office 
opening at eight. Sometimes he would come even earlier, and 
if he saw a clerk at work before eight, he might, under the 
inspiring spell of the brisk early morning walk, step over 
and give the fellow a five-dollar bill. 

Well, Alibi had never gotten one of those five-dollar bills, 
because he was usually in just before St. Peter closed the 
gate. Several times he had been reproved, and once Mr. 
Armour had said, "Tom, be late once more and you are 
a has-wazzer. " ^ Shortly after this, one night. Alibi Tom 
nad a half-dozen stockmen to entertain. They had gone to 
Hooley's and Sam T. Jack's, then to the Athletic Club and 
then they called on Hinky Dink and "Bath House John," 
the famous Cook County literary light jt Where else they 
had gone they could not remember. ^ It was about three 
o'clock in the morning, when it came over Tom like a pall 
that if he started for home now and went to bed he would 
surely be late again, and it might cost him his job. 
He proposed that they make a night of it. The stockmen were 
quite willing. They headed for the Stock-yards, stopping 
along the way to make little visits on certain celebrities. At 
five o'clock they reached the Armour plant, and Tom stowed 
his friends away with the help of a friendly watchman. Then 
he made for the shower-bath, rubbed down, drank two cups 
of coffee and went to his desk. It was just six-thirty, and 
being winter, was yet dark. He had n't any more than yawned 
twice and stretched himself, wondering if he could hold out 
until noon, when he heard the quick step of "the old man." 
Tom crouched over his pretended work like a devil-fish 
devouring its prey. He never looked up, he was that busy. 
q Mr. Armour stopped, stared, came closer — yes, it was Tom, 


PHILIP D. the late Alibi Tom, the chronic derelict. q**Well, well, well, 
ARMOUR Tom, the Lord be praised I you have given yourself a hunch 
at last — keep this!" And Armour handed out a brand-new 
crisp five-dollar bill. C|Tom had now set a stake for himself — 
he had to make good, die or hike. flHe decided to make 
good. ^ The next month his pay was raised twenty-five 
dollars, and it has been climbing a little every year since. 

HILIP D. ARMOUR was a man of 
big mental and physical resources 
— big in brain, rich in vital power, 
bold in initiative and cautious 
when he should be. 
Armour had two peculiar charac- 
teristics — he refused to own more 
land than he could use. ^ His 
second peculiarity was that his 
only stimulant was tea. If he had 
an unusually big problem to pass 
upon, he cut down his food and 
increased his tea ^ Tea was his 
tipple. It opened up his mentalpores 
and gave him cosmic consciousness. Armour had so much 
personality — so much magnetism — that he had but few 
competitors in his business. One of these was Nelson Morris. 
^Now Morris was a type of man that Armour had never 
met. Morris was a Jew — a Bavarian — who affected music, 
art and philosophy. ^Nelson Morris, small, smooth of face, 
humming bars from Bach and quoting Schopenhauer, buy- 
ing hogs at the Chicago Stock-yards and then killing these 
hogs for the gastronomical delectation of Christians, was a 
sort of all 'round Judaic genius. ^ The Mosaic Law forbids 
the Jews eating pork, but it places no ban or bar on their 
dealing in it. 

Nelson Morris bought hogs at Four A. M., or as soon as it 
was light. Armour found him at it when he arrived, and 
Philip Armour was usually the earliest bird on the job. 
Yet Armour was n*t afraid of Morris — the Jew merely 
perplexed him. One day Armour said to MacDowell, his 

secretary, **I say, Mac, Nelson doesn't need a guardian I" 
^ The Jew was getting on the Armour nerves — just a little. 
Armour was always on friendly terms with his competitors 
— he was on friendly terms with everybody — he had no 
grouch and never got in a grump. Socially he was irresistible. 
He got up close — invited confidence — made friends and held 
them. There was never a man he would n't speak to. He was 
above jealousy and beyond hate, yet of course, when it came 
to a show-down, he might hit awfully hard and quick, but 
he always passed out his commercial wallop with a smile jt 
When Sullivan met Corbett at New Orleans, Gentleman Jim 
landed the champion a terrific jolt with his right, smiled 
sweetly and said, "To think, John, of your coming all the 
way from Boston to get that — also this;" then he gave him 
another with his left. One morning, at daylight, when Morris 
got to the Stock-yards, he found dl the pens empty. Armour 
and his pig buyers had been around with lanterns all night 
hunting up the owners and bulling the market. "To think," 
said Armour to Morris, "to think of your coming all the way 
from Bavaria hoping to get the start of me!" Both men 
smiled serenely. ^ The next week whole train-loads of pigs 
were coming to Chicago consigned to Nelson Morris. He had 
sent his agents out and was buying of the farmers, direct. 
^ Soon after. Armour casually met Morris and suggested that 
they lunch together that day. The Jew smiled assent. He had 
scored a point — Armour had come to him. 
So they lunched together. The Jew ate very little. Both men 
talked but said nothing. They were waiting. The Jew ate 
little, but he drank three cups of tea. 
Armour insisted on paying the check, excused himself 
somewhat abruptly and hurried to his office. He sent for 
his lieutenants. They came quickly, and Armour said, " Boys, 
I 've just lunched with Nelson Morris. I think we *d better 
come to an understanding with him as to a few little things we 
shall do and a fewwe shall not do — he drinks nothing but tea." 




HILIP D. ARMOUR, unlike many 
other wise men, had a habit of 
hiring his relatives ^ He took 
his brothers off the farm and 
made them bankers or packers. He 
hired people he had known in his 
boyhood or who had come from 
"that dear Old Oneida County." 
Some of these turned out well and 
sometimes their benefactor got 
their eternal enmity through help- 
ing them into a position which 
they could not fill. Armour set a 
rapid pace ; he made big demands, 
and only a right sterling character could stay in the game. 
But one notable exception was Everett Wilson, a Madison 
County boy J- This was credential enough to get him the 
job, and then he had to hold it down of himself. Q And he 
held it down. Everett Wilson is now Superintendent of the 
Armour Branch Houses, and there are four hundred of these. 
And you know what happens when meat does n*t get around 
on time ! fl "Where do you get your best men?" I once heard 
Joseph Medill ask Philip Armour. 
"I raise them — I raise them!" was the answer. 
This was only poetically true, for Philip Armour was always 
looking for talent. Often, as he walked down the street he 
would make comments on men that he passed thus : "Thinks 
more of clothes than books — gets fifteen a week and is worth 
ten. " ^"Late hours — booze — too smart — will be old at forty." 
"Good boy — not too much top-head. He is going somewhere 
on an errand — wish he would come to me for a job — he 
does n't know too much." fl"He *s needlessly sensitive and 
foolishly good — he *11 have to be coddled, or he '11 get a sour 
spot in his soul and imagine you have it in for him. " 
"Good man, educated and all that, but too much daylight 
under the saddle girth. He won't stand without hitching. 
Put him in the business bull-ring and he 'd spend most of 
his time figuring how to get out of work." 
" He 's a race-horse, and can do everything but go fast. " 
This running comment was immensely amusing to his 
companions, and when Armour got on what they called 
a phrenological rampage, the listeners were glad to let him 
go it. "He can estimate the number of grains on an ear of 

corn, can guess the weight of a steer, or size up a human being PHILIP D. 
better than any man in Chicago," once said Long John ARMOUR 
Wentworth. ^George Robbins was hired on one of these 
snap-shot judgments. **We will all be working for him yet," 
said Armour ^ And now this man Robbins is President 
of the Armour Car Lines. 

Another Armour discovery, Thomas J. Connors — who is 
known as **Tom" by his friends — introduced the new 
style Western dressed beef to the Eastern palate — he was 
on the firing line in the early dressed-beef days — and that 
meant something. The public took kindly to the new scheme, 
but the Eastern butchers did not. The idea hurt their feelings 
via their pocketbook — they were fighting mad — and sat 
up nights thinking of mean things to say and new tricks 
to turn. Tom, however, was too many for them. He was 
such a resourceful scrapper and with it all so good-natured 
and tactful about it that even after he had walloped them 
they secretly liked the way he did it, and became strong 
friends of the house. Connors located the branch house 
outposts — they succeeded because they meant **more for 
many" — and today the branch houses of Armour are all 
over the world. ^ Of Connors, I once heard Armour say — 
**He is descended from an Irish King, and yet if I tell him 
to turn mason he does n't demand a mahogany hod. " 
Arthur Meeker is one of the **old guard," as the leaders 
of the time of Philip Armour are sometimes called. He was 
grumbling one day — somewhat cautiously — at the prospect 
of a winter trip to Europe. "Meeker," said Armour, "You 
are like the Texan in the country store who yawningly 
remarked — *I have got ter go ter Palestine tomorrer and 
get drunk, and I hate it like the devil. * " 
The Treasurer of the Company is S. McRoberts, hired 
originally simply on account of the "Mc." "He put on that 
Mc when he applied to me for a job, because he knew it 
would catch me — and it did. Then the rogue really made 
good, and now I could n*t do without him, " said Armour. 
E. E. Chandler is another of Philip Armour's rich finds. 
"I hired him because he was gawky, and could never bank 
either on his grace or good looks. If he ever succeeded I 
knew it would have to be by plain hard work, and I made no 
mistake." flThis hearty interest in the possibilities of men 
interested him quite as much as making money. He gloried 
in seeing a young man placed in a trying position and master 


PHILIP D P^^ip Armour in his life gave employment to more men 
ARMOUR *^^^ ^^y ^^® single living man. J. Ogden Armour gives 
work to twice as many people as his father ever did. 
Philip Armour was the son of his mother, and so is J. Ogden 
Armour. Philip Armour was a diamond in the rough. He 
was a diamond all right, and at times he was rough. There 
were several very noticeable flaws in the Armour crystallized 
carbon. His exuberance was magnificent, but his habit of 
giving advice would have been a weariness to the flesh if any 
one else had tried it. He liked to go down to the Armour 
Institute and make a little Samuel Smiles speech to the 
assembled youth. His vocabulary at times surely needed to 
be put on a buffing-wheel. His stories often required formalde- 
hyde ; then his habit of giving out new dollar bills was not a 
mark of greatness, and since I profited by this propensity, I 
have a perfect right to criticize it. Armour liked to relax and 
play the grand and magnificent, impulses sometimes called 
Chicagoese. But these things are not spots on the son. Ogden 
Armour is like a quail in a stubble-field. He is so modest in 
dress, manner and action that he fades into the landscape, 
and is merely a part of the ensemble. He never rivals the 
acetylene, nor does he jostle those who have taken the centre 
of the stage. He abjures the spot-light. 
When the Hon. John Morley was in Chicago, and spent 
several hours at the Armour plant, he said, **Now before I 
go, I want to see the man at the head of this wonderful 
business!'* And the answer was, **Why, you have been 
talking with him for an hour." q** Impossible! I knew the 
gentleman's name was Armour, but he never once said, *I 
did it' — nor did he refer to my father. He spoke of *Mr. 
Armour.'" q And John Morley mused and murmured, "But 
how Chicago and Chicago men have been lied about!" 
Belle Ogden, the mother of J. Ogden Armour, is a rare 
woman — rare in her poise, grace and mental ballast. She 
was a fit helpmeet for Philip Armour, and he never failed 
to give his wife due credit for his own successes. Philip 
Armour never went out to spend the evening, took few 
holidays, attended no Four-o'clocks, went to few plays. His 
life was devoted to business, and when he played it was 
out-of-doors. He loved horses, and always had a few that 
could **step along." His wife never ran rival to him, nor 
attempted to drag him out and place him on display. She 
knew his needs and ministered to them. She gave him peace. 

She never publicly corrected his statements, nor put him PHILIP D. 
straight as to facts and dates. And best of all, she always ARMOUR * 
laughed at his jokes — and this is the final test of marital 
fidelity. tI**My culture is mostly in my wife's name,** said 
Philip Armour to Leonard Swett, and this was a jest in 
earnest. If J. Ogden Armour ever thinks of that remark of his 
father's, "I could not possibly have picked better parents — 
God has been good to me" — he must instinctively echo, 
"Here too!" Philip Armour valued money, but he prized 
it only as a measure of power. His joy was in doing things — 
in overcoming difiiculties — in planning, building, devising, 
creating. His ambitions always outstripped his resources, and 
so he usually felt poor. He did not hoard money, he invested 
it so it would set more men to work. The house of Armour & 
Company has always been a great borrower, for it is ever 
growing, expanding, building. 

Much of the recent criticism of our industrial leaders has 
been by people unversed in both economics and psychology, 
and unable by temperament to comprehend or appreciate 
the burdens of a captain of industry. They do not know 
that a man whose heart is set on making money, never 
makes much money. Neither do they know that a life of 
luxury and ease is not typical of **the men who own Amer- 
ica." J. Ogden Armour inherited a vast business, and he 
has met the responsibility of administering it bravely yet 
modestly. He has conserved and protected this business 
and thereby has he protected the interests of the vast army 
of workers to whom it gives employment. And he has also 
protected the public that this business serves. 
At the new palatial office building of Armour & Company 
there is a daily conference of the heads of departments. 
The Big Boys dine together and talk things over with a 
frankness of criticism that might be appalling if it were 
not all delightfully good-natured jt Men who carry big 
responsibilities, I haVe noticed, are always able to laugh. 
^ They must relax and rest at times otherwise they could 
not go on. **The Infinite Love that made the Burden, also 
prepared the Back," says the Kasida. It was this joy in 
life that gave Philip Armour his strength, and his heroic 
soul still pervades the place. Let no theorist convince you 
that corporations have no souls — the only corporation that 
has no soul is a dead one. The idea of the corporation was 
a legal device of the Romans, and it never ceased to excite 


PHILIP D. the admiration of Lord Coke, who referred to it as **an 
ARMOUR intellect without decline, a body without death, a soul 
with a purpose that ever inspires. " 

Certain fixed policies prevail at Armour's. One of these is 
that there must be no misrepresentation. That absolute 
frankness must prevail between the house and the patrons. 
That all complaints must be carefully and courteously 
considered and then adjusted. That no hasty or ill-tempered 
letter shall ever be written. That no product is ever "good 
enough " — it must, if possible, be made better. 
In no position can one get so good a side-light on J. Ogden 
Armour as at the daily lunch. There he is relaxed and at 
his ease. His own order is very slight — his eating is simple. 
He thanks you when you pass the brown bread, and is 
courteous to the waiter, without being familiar. You can 
always tell a gentleman by his attitude toward those who 
are socially beneath him. 

Ogden Armour inspires respect, but not fear. He is a good 
listener, and to listen is a fine art. Undivided attention 
confounds the fool, and encourages the man of brains. 
Philip D. Armour used to "give the calf more rope," and 
Ogden does the same. This habit has made his lieutenants 
rapid, quick, alert and epigrammatic. If some one is going to 
make close note of your vaporings, you soon learn to condense. 
^ I noticed that when Ogden Armour wants something done 
he has a way of asking, thus: "Mr. Merritt, don't you think 
that we better," etc. It is a subtle form of compliment that 
brings out the best — provided your man is really a man. 
And when Mr. Armour was talking to E. B. Merritt he knew 
his man ^ Merritt is a newspaper product who dotes on 
printers* ink and is stuck on the glue-roller. He was once 
a printers' devil and has never fully recovered. He knows 
the science of advertising probably as well as any man in 
Chicago — a city that has not hidden her light under a bushel 
— and Mr. Armour knows he knows, hence his order put 
in the form of asking advice. 

In speaking of their Chief in his absence, these Big Boys 
often call him "Mr. Ogden," a term which implies both 
affection and respect. They abbreviate the name with 
characteristic economy, yet without loss of dignity. 
Mr. J. Ogden Armour is not a college graduate. He attended 
the Yale Sheflield Scientific School for two years; then he 
entered the service of Armour & Company, via the bill- 

desk route, at eight dollars a week, with no favors asked 
or given. He is, from a business viewpoint, decidedly friendly 
to college men and is especially favorable to young men 
educated in technical and manual training-schools. This is 
shown by his keen interest in the Armour Institute of 
Technology and its output. He feels that his business, from 
an operating standpoint especially, is materially strengthened 
when handled by men possessing trained technical minds 
combined with **farm sense," the latter of course, being 
primary. His greatest difficulty has been to secure educated 
young men who keep their feet on the ground — who have 
been bred close to the grass — who have definite objects in 
life and who appreciate that honesty, sane invention, hard 
work and patience will bring results. He wants young men 
whose geometrical knowledge starts with a full appreciation 
of the dimensions and value of a dollar and what must be 
delivered to get it Jt> He approves of methodical, steady 
thinkers and workers, educated men who have respect for 
practical men — men who are willing to begin at the bottom 
— to submit to discipline — ready to volunteer — anxious to 
please by doing — and they are not growing on every campus. 


RIOR to the invention of the 
refrigerator-car, the business of 
the packer was to cure salt meats 
and pack them for transportation. 
Besides this, he supplied the local 
market with fresh meats. 
Up to the early eighties fresh 
meat was not shipped any distance 
except in midwinter, and then as 
frozen meat J^ Surplus Western 
cattle were shipped East alive — 
and subject to heavy risks, shrink- 
age and expense. About fifty per 
cent of the live weight was dressed 
beef — balance non-edible — so double freight was paid on 
the edible portion. Could this freight be saved? ^About this 
time Hammond, of Detroit, mounted a refrigerator on car- 


PHILIP D. wheels, loaded it with dressed beef and headed it for New 
ARMOUR York — where the condition of the meat on arrival satisfied 
every one in the trade except the local slaughterer. ^ The 
car was crude — but it turned the trick — a new era had 
arrived ^ The corn belt came into its own — **Corn was 
King" — the steer, the heir apparent. ^ Phil Armour saw the 
point. Pay freight on edible portion only. Save the waste. 
Make more out of the critter than the competitor can. Pay 
morefor him — Get him J^ Sell the meat for less ^ Get 
the business — grow ^ And he got busy perfecting the 

Armour called together railroad men and laid the project 
before them. They objected that a car, for instance, sent 
from Chicago to New York would require to be iced several 
times during the journey, otherwise there might be the loss 
of the entire load. A car of beef was worth fifteen hundred 
dollars. The freight was two hundred dollars or less. The 
railroad men raised their hands in horror. Beside transporting 
goods they would have to turn insurance company. Armour 
still insisted that they could and should provide suitable cars 
for their patrons. 

The railroad men then came back with this rejoinder: ** You 
make your own cars and we will haul them, provided you 
will ask us to incur only the ordinary risks of transportation." 
Armour accepted the challenge — it was the only thing to 
do. He made one car, and then twenty J^ Fresh beef was 
shipped from Chicago to New York, and arrived in perfect 
order. To ship live cattle long distances, he knew was unwise. 
And he then declared that Omaha, Kansas City, St. Paul and 
various other cities of the West would yet have great 
slaughter-houses, where live stock could be received after 
a very short haul. The product could then be passed along 
in refrigerator-cars, and the expense of ice would not be 
as much as to unload and feed the stock. But better than all 
the product would be more wholesome. 
Armour began to manufacture refrigerator-cars. He offered 
to sell these to railroad companies. A few roads bought cars, 
and after a few months proposed to sell them back to Armour 
— the expense and care of operating them required too much 
care and attention. Shippers would not ship unless it was 
guaranteed that the car would be re-iced, and that it would 
arrive at its destination within a certain time. 
In the fall, fresh peaches were being shipped across the lake 

to Chicago from Michigan. If the peaches were one night PHILIP D. 
on the way they arrived in good order. ARMOUR 

This gave Armour an idea — he sent a couple of refrigerator- 
cars around to St. Joseph, loaded them with fresh peaches, 
and shipped them to Boston. He sent a man with the cars 
who personally attended to icing the cars, just as we used 
to travel in the caboose to look after the live stock. ^ The 
peaches reached Boston, cool and fresh, and were sold in an 
hour at a good profit. At once there was a demand for refrig- 
erator-cars from Michigan — the new way opened the markets 
of America to the producer of fruits and vegetables. ^ There 
was a clamorous demand for refrigerator-cars. 
The reason a railroad cannot afford to have its own refriger- 
ator-cars, is because the fruit or berry season in any one 
place is short. For instance, six weeks covers the grape 
period of the Lake Erie grape belt; one month is about 
the limit on Michigan peaches; strawberries from Southern 
Illinois are gone in two or three weeks. 
Therefore to handle the cars advantageously, the railroads find 
it much better to rent them, or simply haul them on a mileage. 
^ The business is a specialty in itself, and requires most astute 
generalship to make it pay. Cars have to be sent to Alabama 
in February and March; North Carolina a little later, then 
West Virginia. These same cars then do service in the fall 
in Michigan jt It naturally follows that much of the time 
cars have to be hauled empty, and this is a fact that few 
people figure on when computing receipts from tonnage. 
Now, instead of the good old way of sending a man in charge, 
there are icing stations, where the car is looked for, carefully 
examined and cared for as a woman would look after a baby. 
In order to bring apples from Utah to Colorado, and oranges 
from California to Arizona, ice houses have been built on the 
desert at vast expense. And this in a climate where frost is 
unknown. flTo work the miracle of modern industrialism 
requires the help of bespectacled scientists from Germany, 
and a fine army of artists, poets, painters, plumbers, doctors, 
lawyers, beside the workers in wood and metals. 
In the operation of the Private Car Lines, no doubt there have 
been occasional errors and mistakes in judgment, but these 
are being eliminated as time goes on. To make life hard does 
not mean success to any one, and the modern business man 
knows it. The charge that ice melts is probably true, but the 
great fact remains that the producer and consumer are vastly 


PHILIP D. benefited by this wonderful enterprise that carries things in 
ARMOUR s^ety from where they are plentiful to where they are needed. 
The whole business is a creation, and a beneficent one. It 
has opened up vast territories to the farmer, gardener and 
stock-raiser, where before cactus and sage-bush were supreme 
and the prairie-dog, and his chum the rattlesnake, held un- 
disputed sway. ^ To the wealth of the world it has added 
untold millions, not to mention the matters of health, hygiene 
and happiness for the people. If the world wants more fruits 
and vegetables, and less meat, let it say the word, and the 
Armour Ref rigerator-Cars will bring the savory things to your 
door. ^ These truths came to me strangely the other day at 
Norfolk, Virginia, where I saw an Armour Refrigerator-Car 
being loaded with violets — afresh and fragrant — bound for 
Pittsburgh jt ^ 

HE Scotch-Irish blood carries a 
mighty persistent corpuscle. It is 
the blood that made the Duke of 
Wellington, Lord "Bobs,'' Robert 
Fulton, James Oliver, Cyrus Hall 
McCormick, James J. Hill and 
Thomas A. Edison ^ It makes 
fighters, inventors and creators — 
stubborn men who never know 
when they are licked. They can 
live on nothing and follow an 
idea to its lair. They laugh at 
difficulties, grow fat on opposition 
and obstacle only inspires them to 
renewed efforts. ^ Yet their fight is fair, and in the true type 
there is a delicate sense of personal honor which only the 
strong possess. Philip D. Armour's word was his bond. He 
never welched, and even his most persistent enemies never 
accused him of double-dealing. When he fought, it was in 
the open, and he fought to a finish. Then when his adversary 
cried, ** Enough!" he would carry him in his arms to a 
place of safety and bind up his wounds j^ When rightly 
approached his heart was as tender as a girl's. 

Once upon a time Armour had sold for May delivery through PHILIP D. 

elevators in Chicago some three million odd bushels of wheat ARMOUR 

he had purchased in the Northwest. During late March he 

suspected that some of his friends owning wheat stored in 

these elevators intended to keep it there during May so that 

he could not make his deliveries. Things were doing — May 

wheat sky-rocketed. Armour was in a pocket — newspaper 

ways. Was he? In forty days he had a three million-bushel 

elevator approaching completion — Dave Simpson his builder, 

with three shifts of eight-hour workers, turning the trick jt 

The new elevator did n*t cost him anjthing. He filled his 

contracts. Qln business he paid to the last cent; and he 

expected others to pay, too. For clerks in a comatose state, 

and the shirker who would sell his labor and then connive to 

give short count, he had no pity ; but for the stricken or the 

fallen, his heart and his purse were always open. He gloried 

in work and he could not understand why others shoxild not 

get their enjoyment out of work also. 

He kept farmers' hours throughout his life, going to bed at 

nine o'clock and getting up at five. He prized sleep — God's 

great gift of sleep — and used to quote Sancho Panza, "God 

bless the man who first invented sleep. " 

Yet he slept only that he might arise and work. To be well 

and healthy and strong and joyous was to him not only a 

privilege but a duty. If he used tobacco it was never during 

business hours. For strong drink he had an abhorrence, 

simply because he thought it useless, save possibly as a 

medicine, and he believed that no man would need medicine 

if he lived rightly. 

That very able and usually sensible man, Arthur Brisbane, 

in a recent article suggests that Armour & Company would 

do well to install canteens on their plant for the benefit of 

their workmen, instead of allowing these workmen to 

patronize the cheap saloons that hang upon the fringe of 

Packingtown. flThe suggestion was probably well-meant, but 

nothing could be more un-Armourlike than a traffic in strong 

drink jt One could as well imagine Ben Franklin doing a 

like thing. As it is, the carper, the quibbler and the unco 

gude have had their say of Armour, and now just imagine 

their renewed howl of disapproval if Armour & Company 

should follow the suggestion of this sincere and gentle 

anarch, Arthur Brisbane, and supply an enemy to place in 

the mouths of the toilers to steal away their brains 1 


PHILIP D. ^ ^^^ years ago I read an article by Arthur Brisbane in 
ARMOUR denunciation of the *' Company Store" which is operated 
by certain boss coal-miners. And now this same man who 
denounced company stores advocates company saloons. If 
it were tried we might get a scathing article from the same 
pen on **the greed that prompts our rich malefactors to 
batten and fatten on the thirst of overworked employees. " 
^ Anatole France has a philosophy, one tenet of which is, 
**No matter what you do, you '11 be sorry for it. Also, if you 
don't do it, you '11 be sorry you did n't. " 
Verily, the industrial leader, like leaders of any kind, follows 
a path that leads by the thorn road. The only man who is 
really safe from unkind criticism is the man who does 
nothing, says nothing and is nothing. 

It so happened once that Mr. Armour was booked to leave 
for New York for Europe on Thursday. He had taken the 
eleven o'clock train Wednesday for Milwaukee. At three 
o'clock the head of the office received a message instructing 
that several men should break any personal engagements 
they might have that night and be prepared to work all night 
if necessary, and to cancel his European reservations jt 
Further instructions were received by wire. 
At seven o'clock Mr. Armour turned up at the office. It 
seems that his friend Plankinton had become involved in 
a wheat deal — was long some ten million bushels of wheat, 
and was in trouble. Following wired instructions, one of the 
office force had gone to a certain broker's office and had 
returned with a bunch of warehouse receipts about a fo 
high covering grain in warehouses. Mr. Armour immediately 
got busy and the upshot of it was that Mr. Plankinton was 
pulled out of his dilemma and both he and Mr. Armour had 
harnessed up a pretty fair bunch of money. 
He never entered a deal without first financing it. If he 
figured that five million dollars would be all that would be 
needed, he arranged for ten million, feeling that the interest 
on the surplus money was cheap insurance. 
One day he purchased on the New York Stock Exchange 
fifty thousand shares of St. Paul Railroad stock and paid 
for it. Fifty thousand share transactions today are not 
enormous, but in the early eighties such deals were very large. 
flHe foresaw the possibilities of the West and the Northwest, 
and in company with Alex. Mitchell, "Diamond Joe" 
Reynolds, Fred Layton, John Plankinton and others,rtook 

great personal pride in the upbuilding of the country. He was PHILIP D. 
possessed of an active imagination. In a bigger, broader ARMOUR 
sense he was a dreamer. In his every action and thought 
he was a doer. He was very fond of children and would drop 
almost any work he had in hand to talk for a few minutes 
with a small boy or girl. He kept a stock of small Swiss 
watches in his desk to present to his junior callers. His 
great hobby was presenting his men with a suit of clothes 
should they suggest anything out of the ordinary or do 
anything which attracted his commendation. Nearly all of 
those close to him were presented with gold watches. 
It was in the late seventies. Mr. Armour, with officials, was 
inspecting the St. Paul Railway. A rumor was circulated 
that Armour & Company was in financial trouble, and Mr. 
Armour was so advised. His return was so prompt that it 
was suggested that he must have come down over the wire. 
He was very much incensed, and his first query was as to 
who had started the rumor. 

The president of a Chicago bank had loaned Armour & 
Company one hundred thousand dollars, note due in ninety 
days. For some reason known only to himself, he had made 
a demand on the cashier for the payment of this note some 
sixty days before it was due, and very naturally in the absence 
of Mr. Armour, did not get his money. 
Everett Wilson at that time was a member of the Ogden 
Boat Club, and was quite friendly with a son of the president 
of the bank above referred to. This young man remarked to 
Mr. Wilson that he had never felt so sorry for a man in his 
life as he did for his father the day before. He said Phil 
Armour had come over to the bank — had bearded his father 
in his den and had gone after him so fiercely — had gotten 
under him in so many ways — had lampooned him up dale 
and down hill, that there was nothing left of his father but 
a bunch of apologetic confusion, and that the interview had 
ended by Mr. Armour's throwing a hundred thousand dollars 
in currency in the gentleman's face. The young man said he 
never knew that a man could be so indignant and so 
voluble as Mr. Armour was, and that it had made a lasting 
impression on him. qPhilip Armour had very high business 
ideals. To sell an article at more than it was worth, or to deceive 
the buyer as to quality in any way, he would have regarded 
as a calamity. He delighted in the thought that the men with 
whom he traded were his friends. That his prosperity had 


PHILIP D. been the prosperity of the producing West, and also to the 
ARMOUR advantage of the consuming East, were great sources of 
satisfaction ^ To personal criticism he very seldom made 
reply, feeling that a man's life should justify itself, and that 
explanation, excuse or apology are unworthy in a man who 
is doing his best to help himself by helping humanity. 
But in spite of his indifference to calumny his years were 
shortened by the stab of a pen — the thing which killed 
Keats — the tumult of wild talk concerning *^ embalmed 
beef," started by a Dr. William Daly who shortly after 
committed suicide, and taken up to divert public attention 
from the unpreparedness of the country to properly take 
care of the health of its volunteer soldiery. 
Mr. Armour, as Father of the Packing House Industry, 
was keenly sensitive to these slanders on the quality of the 
product and the honesty of the packers. The charges were 
thoroughly investigated by a board of army officers and 
declared by them to be without foundation. 
Scandal and defamation in war-time are imminent; the 
literary stink-pot rivals the lyddite of the enemy; fever, 
envy, malice and murderous tongues strike in the dark 
and retreat in a miasmic fog. Here were forces that Philip 
Armour, as unsullied and as honorable as Philip Sydney, 
could not fight, because he could not locate them. 
About the same time came one Joseph Leiter, who tried 
to comer the wheat of the world. Chicago looked to Armour 
to punish the presumptuous one. And so Armour, already 
bowed with burdens, kept the Straights of Mackinaw open 
in midwinter, and delivered millions of bushels of real 
wheat for real money to meet the machinations of the 
bounding Leiter. Here, too. Armour was fighting for Chicago, 
if possible, to redeem her good name in the eyes of the nations. 
^ And Armour won ; but it was like that last shot of Brann's, 
sent after he, himself, had fallen. Philip Armour slipped down 
into the valley and passed into the shadow, unafraid. Like 
Cyrano he said, **I am dying, but I am not defeated, nor am 
I dismayed ! " And so they laid his tired body in the window- 
less house of rest. 



^^ When writing men like Gentile Bellini, William Caxton, 
^1 Benjamin Franklin, Horace Walpole, William Morris and 
^^ Thomas D e Vinne felt in the mood to exude some particularly- 
hot copy, they hiked for the type-case and worked their energy up 
into a galley of Good Stuff ,^ They set up the matter as they 
composed it. Thus we get the words "composing-stick" and 
"compositor." Qln those days the printer was always a man of 
considerable literary ability. People used to doff their hats when 
they met him on the street and address "Mr. Printer." And as 
a follow-up custom, it was only the day before yesterday that 
folks stopped saying "Mr. Editor." Q These early printer-authors 
had pronounced preferences for different type faces and families, 
and the adoption or rejection of these various choices segregated 
all shops into exponents of certain "styles." Q Every print-shop 
now has its particular conception of what constitutes style in 
typography. No two offices have identical views on this subject, 
though all of them are evolving towards an Idea which had its 
first modern impulse in The Roycroft Shop. QThe beauty and 
adaptability of this Idea found for it considerable favor, and 
"Roycroft Style" is now a well-known phrase in commercial print- 
ing circles. But the best printers in the country have been unable 
to successfully reproduce "Roycroft Style." For "Roycroft Style" 
is more than a style, it 's an Art — an Art born of Artistic 
Environment and developed by boys and girls working ^ 
under conditions which approach the Ideal ^ At the ^ 
Roycroft Shop we produce both Art and Artists ^ 

If You Want Printing Done Very • j^ 
De Luxe, Let Us Know Your Needs 

/^ipfHE man who buys Wool Underwear, light or heavy, must buy 
ilL again when the laundry's work is done ^ Six trips to the soap- 
^^^ wasters will shrink a Wool Garment to the degree where a shoe- 
horn is an almost necessity in the donning! And then it fits like a 
Wienie's Skin, believe me!,^^^^^^^^^^ 


"Papa's shirt was passed down through the members of the family 
until, when too small for the baby, its only utility was to serve as a 
wick for a lamp." Q Poor Papa ! Next time he '11 buy the Wool that 's 
Wool, plus the Non-shrinking Quality — DERMOPHILE Underwear. 
Q A Sure Nuff Promise! Put the DERMOPHILE Underwear to any 
test— IF IT SHRINKS— your money back. Q Could we afford to do 
this if we were 'nt on the right side of the fence ? Ask Felix ! 


Sold at your dealer's or write 

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Four Hundred and Fifty-six Broome Street, NEW YORK 

The Greatest Suffrage Issue Ever Published Is 

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*HE great trouble with the public school is that 
many things are taught that are of no immediate 
use. I believe in manual training schools. I believe 
in the kindergarten system. Every person ought 
to be taught how to do something — ought to be 
taught the use of their hands. They should en- 
deavor to put in palpable form the ideas that 
they gain. Such an education gives them a confidence in them- 
selves, a confidence in the future — gives them a spirit and feeling 
of independence that they do not now have. 

Children should be taught to think, to investigate, to rely upon 
the light of reason, of observation and experience; should be 
taught to use all their senses; and they should be taught only 
that which in some sense is really useful. They should be taught 
to use tools, to use their hands, to embody their thoughts in the 
construction of things. Their lives should not be wasted in the 
acquisition of the useless, or of the almost useless. Years should 
not be devoted to the acquisition of the dead languages, or to 
the study of history which, for the most part, is a detailed 
account of things that never occurred. It is useless to fill the 
mind with dates of great battles, with the births and deaths of 
kings. They should be taught the philosophy of history, the 
growth of nations, of philosophies, theories, and above all, of 
the sciences. They should be taught the importance, not only of 
financial, but of mental, honesty; to be absolutely sincere; to 
utter their real thoughts, and to give their actual opinions ; and 
if parents want honest children, they should be honest them- 
selves. It may be that hypocrites transmit their failing to their 
offspring. Men and women who pretend to agree with the majority, 
who think one way and talk another, can hardly expect their 
children to be absolutely sincere.— ROBERT G. INGERSOLL 


The Book-keeper? 

IF NOT, will you take advantage of 
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as a representative business man 
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Each monthly issue for the coming year 
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91 West Fort Street - Detroit, Michigan 

HE fortunate 


of our lives are 

generally found, at last, 
to be of our own making 


LAY it down 
as a safe prop- 
osition that 
the fellow 
who, every little while, 
has to break into the* 
baby's bank for car fare, 
isn't going to evolve into 
a Baron Rothschild ae ^ 



Vol. 24 


No. 6 



miJ9 MFM 








Sggg lTF\//>V017 T^ag 


great ig 
not altoaps! 
goob, t)«t all goob 
tfjings! are great. 


Entered at the postoffice at East Aurora, New York, fw transmission as secood-dass matter 
Copyright, iwe, by filbert Hubbard, Editor and Pul«Hi^er 



occtirs at East Aurora,Erie County,New York, 
Jxily First to Tenth, Nineteen Hundred and 
Nine, inclusive. On this very pleasant occasion 
there will be present many men and women 
of quality ;honest, simple, sincere and friendly 
folks who have thoughts and know how to 
express them. QThe Musical Events provided 
this year are the best we have ever had — which 
is saying much. Two Formal Programs daily, 
with walks and talks afield, betimes, and much 
good-fellowship and flow of soul. To guests 
at The Roycroft Inn there is no charge for 
admittance to any of our classes, lectures or 
entertainments. QYou are invited to be 
present. Q Rates at The Inn are Two Dollars 
a day and up, according to apartments, 
American Plan. Q A postal card, stating about 
when you will arrive, will be appreciated. 


Little Journeys 


[LBERTHUBBARD singlesout from 
History, Characters that but yester= 
day meant to you only a Name, a 
Picture, or a piece of Statuary, and 
presents them as living, breathing, 
pulsing men and women. Q The reader of 
LITTLE JOURNEYS feels himself on speaks 
ing terms with Seneca, sympathizes with the 
struggles of Wagner, and understands why 
Coleridge wrote "Kubla Khan." Q Quite a 
few of these LITTLE JOURNEYS have been 
re=printed, and bound bosarty in Limp 
Chamois, silk=lined, gilt = top, with silk= 
marker. Six LITTLE JOURNEYS in each 
Volume ^ THREE DOLLARS the Volume. 

Vol. 6. Morris, Browning, Tennyson, Burns, Milton, 

Vol. 7. Macaulay, Byron, Addison, Southey, Coleridge, 

Vol. 8. Wagner, Paganini, Chopin, Mozart, Bach, 

Vol. 9. Liszt, Beethoven, Handel, Verdi, Schumann, 

Vol. 10. Raphael, Leonardo, Botticelli, Thorwaldsen, 

Gainsborough, Velasquez. 
Vol. 11. Corot, Correggio, Bellini, Cellini, Abbey, 

Vol. 12. Pericles, Anthony, Savonarola, Luther, Burke, 


Little Journeys, Library Edition — Cont. 

Vol. 13, 

Vol. 14, 

Vol. 15, 

Vol. 16 

Vol. 17 

Vol. 18 

Marat, Ingersoll, Patrick Henry, Starr King, 

Beecher, Phillips. 

Socrates, Aristotle, Spinoza, Seneca, Aurelius, 


Kant, Comte, Voltaire, Spencer, Schopenhauer, 


Copernicus, Newton, Herschel, Galileo, 

Humboldt, Darwin. 

Haeckel, Linnaeus, Huxley, Tyndall, Wallace, 


Josiah and Sarah Wedgwood, W^illiam Godwin 
and Mary Wollstonecraft, Dante and Beatrice, 
John Stuart Mill and Harriet Taylor, Parnell 
and Kitty O'Shea, Petrarch and Laura. 

Vol. 19. Dante Gabriel Rossetti and Elizabeth Siddal, 
Balzac and Madame Hanska, Fenelon and 
Madame Guyon, Ferdinand Lassalle and Helen 
vonDonniges, Lord Nelson and Lady Hamilton, 
Robert Louis Stevenson and Fannie Osbourne. 

Vol. 20. John Wesley, Henry George, Garibaldi, Richard 
Cobden, Thomas Paine, John Knox. 

Vol. 21. John Bright, Bradlaugh, Theodore Parker, 
Oliver Cromwell, Anne Hutchinson, Jean 
Jacques Rousseau. 

Vol. 22. Moses, Confucius, Pythagoras, Plato, King 
Alfred, Friedrich Froebel. 

Vol. 23. Booker T. Washington, Thomas Arnold, 
Erasmus, Hypatia, St. Benedict, Mary Baker 



The Hubbard-Albertson 

D E B A T E 

Resolved, ''That Christianity Is Declining" 

Affirmative — Elbert Hubbard, Foreman of 
The Roycroft Shop, East Aurora, New York. 

Negative — Reverend Doctor C. C. Albertson, 
Pastor Central Presbyterian Church, Rochester. 

This debate took place at Chickering 
Hall, Boston, Massachusetts, Novem- 
ber the Ninth, Nineteen Hundred and 
Eight. A full report appeared in '*The 
Fra" Magazine for January, Nineteen 
Hundred and Nine. As all extra copies 
of this issue of ''The Fra" have been 
sold, and a demand still continues, the 
Debate has been reprinted in booklet 
form — Price, Twenty-five cents each. 


Elast Aurora, Erie County, New York 



lhF59 MEM 

I iQHM J nrroi^ 


^& g& 


PI^^ M- ^ -M-l-X l Pl^PEl 


/ ''/ 



The man who makes it the habit of his life to go to bed at nine o'clock, 
usually gets rich and is always reliable. Of course, going to bed does 
not make him rich — I merely mean that such a man will in all 
probability be up early in the morning and do a big day's work, so 
his weary bones put him to bed early. Rogues do their work at night. 
Honest men work by day. It 's all a matter of habit, and good habits in 
America make any man rich. Wealth is a result of habit. 



ICTOR HUGO says, **When you 
open a school, you close a prison. ** 
J^ This seems to require a little 
explanation. Victor Hugo did not 
have in mind a theological school, 
nor yet a young ladies' seminary, 
nor an English boarding-school, 
nor a military academy, and least 
of all a parochial institute. What 
he was thinking of was a school 
where people — young and old — 
were taught to be self-respecting, 
self-reliant and efficient — to care for themselves, to help bear 
the burdens of the world, to assist themselves by adding to the 
happiness of others. 

Victor Hugo fully realized that the only education that serves 
is the one that increases human efficiency, not the one that 
retards it. An education for honors, ease, medals, degrees, 
titles, position— immunity — may tend to exalt the individual 
ego, but it weakens the race and its gain on the whole is nil. 
^ Men are rich only as they give. He who gives great service, 
gets great returns. Action and reaction are equal, and the 
radiatory power of the planets balances their attraction. The 
love you keep is the love you give away. 
A bumptious colored person wearing a derby tipped over one 
eye, and a cigar in his mouth pointing to the northwest, 
walked into a hardware store and remarked, "Lemme see 
your razors." 


JOHN xhe clerk smiled pleasantly and asked, **Do you want a 
J. ASTOR razor to shave with?'* 

"Naw," said the colored person, " — for social purposes." 
^ An education for social purposes is n*t of any more use than 
a razor purchased for a like use. An education which merely 
fits a person to prey on society, and occasionally slash it up, 
is a predatory preparation for a life of uselessness, and 
closes no prison. Rather it opens a prison and takes captive 
at least one man. The only education that makes free is the 
one that tends to human efficiency. Teach children to work, 
play, laugh, fletcherize, study, think, and yet again — work, 
and we will raze every prison. 

There is only one prison, and its name is Inefficiency. Amid 
the bastions of this bastile of the brain the guards are Pride, 
Pretense, Greed, Gluttony, Selfishness. 
Increase human efficiency and you set the captives free. 
"The Teutonic tribes have captured the world because of 
their efficiency," says Lecky the historian. 
He then adds that he himself is a Celt. 
The two statements taken together reveal Lecky to be a man 
without prejudice. When the Irish tell the truth about the 
Dutch the millennium approaches. 

Should the quibbler arise and say that the Dutch are not 
Germans, I will reply, true, but the Germans are Dutch — 
at least they are of Dutch descent. 

The Germans are great simply because they have the homely 
and indispensable virtues of prudence, patience and industry. 
^ There is no copyright on these qualities. God can do many 
things, but so far. He has never been able to make a strong 
race of people and leave these ingredients out of the formula. 

Q As a nation, Holland first developed them so that they J*-'"^ 
became the characteristic of the whole people. J* -'^STOR 

It was the slow, steady stream of Hollanders pushing south- 
ward that civilized Germany. 

Music as a science was born in Holland. The grandfather of 
Beethoven was a Dutchman. 
Gutenberg's forebears were from Holland. 
And when the Hollanders had gone clear through Germany, 
and then traversed Italy, and came back home by way of 
Venice, they struck the rock of spiritual resources and the 
waters gushed forth. 

Since Rembrandt carried portraiture to the point of perfec- 
tion, two hundred and fifty years ago, Holland has been a 
land of artists — and it is so even unto this day. 
John Jacob Astor was born of a Dutch family that had 
migrated down to Heidelberg from Antwerp. Through some 
strange freak of atavism the father of the boy bred back, and 
was more or less of a stone-age cave-dweller. He was a 
butcher by trade, in the little town of Waldorf, a few miles 
from Heidelberg. A butcher's business then was to travel 
around and kill the pet pig, or sheep, or cow that the tender- 
hearted owners dare not harm. The butcher was a pariah, a 
sort of unofficial, industrial hangman. 
At the same time he was more or less of a genius, for he 
climbed steeples, dug wells, and did all kinds of disagreeable 
jobs that needed to be done, and from which sober and 
cautious men shrank like unwashed wool. 
One such man — a German, too — lives in East Aurora. I 
joined him, accidentally, in walking along a country road, 
the other day. He carried a big basket on his arm, and was 


JOHN peacefully smoking a big Dutch pipe. We talked of music and 
J. ASTOR ^® ^^^ regretting the decline of a taste for Bach, when he 
shifted the basket to the other arm. 
"What have you in the basket?" I asked. 
And here is the answer, "Noddings— but dynamite. I vas 
going up on der hill, already, to blow me oud some stumps 
oud." And I suddenly bethought me of an engagement I had 
at the village. 

youngest of four sons, and as 
many daughters. The brothers 
ran away early in life, and went to 
sea or joined the army. One of 
these boys came to America, and 
followed his father's trade of 
butcher Jt> j/i 

Jacob Astor, the happy father of 
John Jacob, used to take the boy 
with him on his pig-killing expedi- 
tions. This for two reasons — one, 
so the lad would learn a trade, and the other to make sure 
that the boy did not run away. 

Parents who hold their children by force have a very slender 
claim upon them. The pastor of the local Lutheran Church 
took pity on this boy, who had such disgust for his father's 
trade and hired him to work in his garden and run errands. 

q The intelligence and alertness of the lad made him look JOHN 
like good timber for a minister. J. ASTOR 

He learned to read and was duly confirmed as a member of 
the church. 

Under the kindly care of the village parson John Jacob grew 
in mind and body — his estate was to come later. When he 
was seventeen, his father came and made a formal demand 
for his services. The young man must take up his father's 
work of butchering. 

That night John Jacob walked out of Waldorf by the wan 
light of the moon, headed for Antwerp. He carried a big red 
handkerchief in which his worldly goods were knotted, and in 
his heart he had the blessings of the Lutheran clergyman, 
who walked with him for half a mile, and said a prayer at 
parting J^ ^ 

To have youth, high hope, right intent, health and a big red 
handkerchief is to be greatly blessed. 
John Jacob got a job next day as oarsman on a lumber raft. 
^ He reached Antwerp in a week. There he got a job on the 
docks as a laborer. The next day he was promoted to checker- 
off. The captain of a ship asked him to go to London and 
figure up the manifests on the way. He went. 
The captain of the ship recommended him to the company in 
London, and the boy was soon piling up wealth at the rate of a 
guinea a month. 

In September, Seventeen Hundred and Eighty-three, came 
the news to London that George Washington had sur- 
rendered. In any event, peace had been declared — Corn- 
wallis had forced the issue, so the Americans had stopped 
fighting ^ ^ 


TOHN ^ ^^**^® ^^*®^ ^* ^^^ given out that England had given up her 
J. ASTOR American Colonies, and they were free. 

Intuitively John Jacob Astor felt that the **New World" was 
the place for him. He bought passage on a sailing ship bound 
for Baltimore, at a cost of five pounds. He then fastened five 
pounds in a belt around his waist, and with the rest of his 
money — after sending two pounds home to his father, with a 
letter of love — bought a dozen German flutes. 
He had learned to play on this instrument with proficiency, 
and in America he thought there would be an opening for 
musicians and musical instruments. 
John Jacob was then nearly twenty years of age. 
The ship sailed in November, but did not reach Baltimore 
until the middle of March, having to put back to sea on account 
of storms when within sight of the Chesapeake. Then a 
month was spent later hunting for the Chesapeake. There 
was plenty of time for flute-playing and making of plans. 
^ On board ship he met a German, twenty years older than 
himself, who was a fur trader and had been home on a visit. 
^ John Jacob played the flute and the German friend told 
stories of fur trading among the Indians. 
Young Astor*s curiosity was excited. The Waldorf-Astoria 
plan of flute-playing was forgotten. He fed on fur trading. 
^ The habits of the animals, the value of their pelts, the 
curing of the furs, their final market, was all gone over again 
and again. The two extra months at sea gave him an insight 
into a great business and he had the time to fletcherize his 
ideas. He thought about it — wrote about it in his diary, for 
he was at the journal-age. Wolves, bears badgers, minks, 
and muskrats, filled his dreams. 

Arriving in Baltimore he was disappointed to learn that there joHN 
were no fur traders there. He started for New York. j aSTOR 

Here he found work with a certain Robert Bowne, a Quaker, 
who bought and sold furs. 

Young Astor set himself to learn the business — every part of 
it. He was always sitting on the curb at the door before the 
owner got around in the morning, carrying a big key to open 
the warehouse. He was the last to leave at night. He pounded 
furs with a stick, salted them, sorted them, took them to the 
tanners, brought them home. 
He worked, and as he worked, learned. 
To secure the absolute confidence of a man, obey him. Only 
thus do you get him to lay aside his weapons, be he friend or 
enemy ^ ^ 

Any dullard can be waited on and served, but to serve requires 
judgment, skill, tact, patience and industry. 
The qualities that make a youth a good servant are the basic 
ones for mastership. Astor*s alertness, willingness, loyalty, 
and ability to obey, delivered his employer over into his hands. 
^ Robert Bowne, the good old Quaker, insisted that Jacob 
should call him Robert; and from boarding the young man 
with a near-by war widow who took cheap boarders, Bowne 
took young Astor to his own house, and raised his pay from 
two dollars a week to six. 

Bowne had made an annual trip to Montreal for many years, 
^ Montreal was the metropolis for furs. Bowne went to 
Montreal himself because he did not know of any one he 
could trust to carry the message to Garcia. Those who knew 
furs and had judgment were not honest, and those who were 
honest did not know furs. Honest fools are really no better 


JOHN than rogues, as far as practical purposes are concerned. 
J. ASTOR Bowne once found a man who was honest and also knew 
furs, but alas! he had a passion for drink, and no prophet 
could foretell his ** periodic, " until after it occurred. 
Young Astor had been with Bowne only a year. He spoke 
imperfect English, but he did not drink nor gamble, and he 
knew furs and was honest. 

Bowne started him off for Canada with a belt full of gold; 
his only weapon was a German flute that he carried in his 
hand. Bowne being a Quaker did not believe in guns. Flutes 
were a little out of his line, too, but he preferred them to 
flintlocks ^ ^ 

John Jacob Astor ascended the Hudson River to Albany, and 
then with pack on his back, struck north, alone, through the 
^ forest for Lake Champlain. As he approached an Indian 

settlement he played his flute. The aborigines showed no 
disposition to give him the hook. He hired Indians to paddle 
him up to the Canadian border. He reached Montreal. 
The fur traders there knew Bowne as a very sharp buyer, and 
so had their quills out on his approach. But young Astor was 
seemingly indifferent. His manner was courteous and easy. 
^ He got close to his man, and took his pick of the pelts at 
fair prices. He expended all of his money, and even bought on 
credit, for there are men who always have credit. 
Young Astor found Indian nature to be simply human nature. 
fl The savage was a man, and courtesy, gentleness and fairly 
good flute-playing soothed his savage breast. Astor had beads 
and blankets, a flute and a smile. The Indians carried his 
goods by relays and then passed him on with guttural 
certificates as to character, to other red men, and at last he 

reached New York without the loss of a pelt or the dampening JOHN 
of his ardor. j. ASTOR 

Bowne was delighted. To young Astor it was nothing. He had 
in his blood the success corpuscle. He might have remained 
with Bowne and become a partner in the business, but 
Bowne had business limitations and Astor had n't. 
So after a three years' apprenticeship, Astor knew all that 
Bowne did and all he himself could imagine besides. So he 
resigned .^ J^ 

In Seventeen Hundred and Eighty-six, John Jacob Astor be- 
gan business on his own account in a little store on Water 
Street, New York. There was one room and a basement. He 
had saved a few hundred dollars; his brother, the butcher, 
had loaned him a few hundred more, and Robert Bowne had 
contributed a bale of skins to be paid for **at thy own price 
and thy own convenience." 

Astor had made friends with the Indians up the Hudson clear 
to Albany, and they were acting as recruiting agents for him. 
He was a bit boastful of the fact that he had taught an 
Indian to play the flute, and anyway he had sold the savage 
the instrument for a bale of beaver pelts, with a bearskin 
thrown in for good measure. It was a musical achievement 
as well as a commercial one. 

Having collected several thousand dollars' worth of furs he 
shipped them to London and embarked as a passenger in the 
steerage. The trip showed him that ability to sell was quite 
as necessary as the ability to buy — a point which with all of 
his shrewdness Bowne had never guessed. 
In London furs were becoming a fad. Astor sorted and sifted 
his buyers, as he had his skins. He himself dressed in a suit 


JOHN Qf fur and thus proved his ability as an advertiser. He picked 
J. ASTOR his men and charged all the traffic would bear. He took 
orders, on sample, from the nobility and sundry of the gentry, 
and thereby cut the middleman. All of the money he received 
for his skins, he invested in "Indian Goods" — colored cloth, 
beads, blankets, knives, axes, and musical instruments. 
His was the first store in New York that carried a stock of 
musical instruments. These he sold to savages, and also he 
supplied the stolid Dutch the best of everything in this 
particular line from a bazoo to a Stradivarius violin. 
When he got back to New York, he at once struck out 
through the wilderness to buy furs of the Indians, or better 
still, to interest them in bringing furs to him. ^ He knew the 
value of friendship in trade as no man of the time did. 
He went clear through to Lake Erie, down to Niagara Falls, 
along Lake Ontario, across to Lake Champlain and then down 
the Hudson. He foresaw the great city of Buffalo, and 
Rochester as well, only he said that Rochester would 
probably be situated directly on the Lake. But the water- 
power of the Genesee Falls proved a stronger drawing power 
than the Lake Front. He prophesied that along the banks of 
the Niagara Falls would be built the greatest manufacturing 
city in the world. There were flour-mills and sawmills there 
then. The lumber first used in building the city of Buffalo 
was brought from the sawmills at "The Falls." 
Electric power, of course, was then a thing unguessed, but 
Astor prophesied the Erie Canal, and made good guesses as 
to where prosperous cities would appear along its line. 
In Seventeen Hundred and Ninety, John Jacob Astor mar- 
ried Sarah Todd. Her mother was a Brevoort, and it was 

brought about by her coming to Astor to buy furs with which 
to make herself a coat. Her ability to judge furs and make 
them up won the heart of the dealer. The marriage brought 
young Astor into "the best Dutch New York society," a 
combination that was quite as exclusive then as now. 
This marriage was a business partnership as well as marital, 
and proved a success in every way. Sarah was a worker, with 
all the good old Dutch qualities of patience, persistence, 
industry and economy. When her husband went on trips she 
kept store. She was the only partner in which he ever had 
implicit faith. And faith is the first requisite in success. 
Captain Cook had skirted the Pacific Coast from Cape Horn 
to Alaska, and had brought to the attention of the fur-dealing 
and fur-wearing world the sea-otter of the Northern Pacific. 
^ He also gave a psychological prophetic glimpse of the 
insidious sealskin sacque. 

In Seventeen Hundred and Ninety, a ship from the Pacific 
brought a hundred otterskins to New York. The skins were 
quickly sold to London buyers at exorbitant prices. 
The nobility wanted sea-otter, or ** Royal American Ermine, " 
as they called it. The scarcity boomed the price. Ships were 
quickly fitted out and dispatched. Boats bound for the whale 
fisheries were diverted, and New Bedford had a spasm of 
jealousy. ^ Astor encouraged these expeditions, but at first 
invested no money in them, as he considered them ** extra 
hazardous. " He was not a speculator. 





NTIL the year Eighteen Hundred, 
Astor lived over his store in Water 
Street, but he then moved to the 
plain and modest house at Two 
Hundred and Twenty-three Broad- 
way, on the site of the old Astor 
House. Here he lived for twenty- 
five years. 

The fur business was simple and 
very profitable. Astor now was 
confining himself mostly to beaver- 
skins. He fixed the price at one 
dollar, to be paid to the Indians or trappers. It cost fifty 
cents to prepare and transport the skin to London. There it 
was sold at from five to ten dollars. All of the money received 
for skins was then invested in English merchandise, which 
was sold in New York at a profit. In Eighteen Hundred, Astor 
owned three ships which he had bought so as to absolutely 
control his trade. Ascertaining that London dealers were 
reshipping furs to China, early in the century he dispatched 
one of his ships directly to the Orient, loaded with furs, with 
explicit written instructions to the captain as to what the 
cargo should be sold for. The money was to be invested in teas 
and silks. ^ The ship sailed away, and had been gone a year. 
^ No tidings had come from her. 

Suddenly a messenger came with news that the ship was in 
the bay. We can imagine the interest of Mr. and Mrs. Astor 
as they locked their store and ran to the Battery. Sure enough, 
it was their ship, riding gently on the tide, snug, strong and 
safe as when she had left. 

The profit on this one voyage was seventy thousand dollars. JOHN 
By Eighteen Hundred and Ten, John Jacob Astor was worth j aSTOR 
two million dollars. He began to invest all his surplus money 
in New York real estate. He bought acreage property in the 
vicinity of Canal Street. Next he bought Richmond Hill, the 
estate of Aaron Burr. It consisted of one hundred and sixty 
acres just above Twenty-third Street. He paid for the land 
a thousand dollars an acre. People said Astor was crazy. 
In ten years he began to sell lots from the Richmond Hill 
property at the rate of five thousand dollars an acre. Fortu- 
nately for his estate he did not sell much of the land at this 
price, for it is this particular dirt that makes up that vast 
property known as "The Astor Estate." 
During the Revolutionary War, Roger Morris, of Putnam 
County, New York, made the mistake of siding with the 

A mob collected, and Morris and his family escaped, taking 
ship to England. 

Before leaving, Morris declared his intention of coming back 
as soon as "the insurrection was quelled." 
The British troops, we are reliably informed, failed to quell 
the insurrection. 
Roger Morris never came back. 

Roger Morris is known in history as the man who married 
Mary Philipse. And this lady lives in history because she had 
the felicity of having been proposed to by George Washington. 
It is George himself, tells of this in his Journal, and George 
you remember could not tell a lie. 

George was twenty-five, he was on his way to Boston, and 
entertained at the Philipse house, the Plaza not having 


JOHN ^jjgQ ijggjj built. ^Mary was twenty, pink and lissome. She 
J. ASTOR played the harpsichord. Immediately after supper George, 
finding himself alone in the parlor with the girl, proposed. 
QHe was an opportunist. 

The lady pleaded for time, which the Father of his Country 
declined to give. He was a soldier and demanded immediate 
surrender. A small quarrel followed, and George saddled his 
horse and rode on his way to fame and fortune. 
Mary thought he would come back, but George never pro- 
posed to the same lady twice. Yet he thought kindly of Mary 
and excused her conduct by recording, '*I think ye ladye was 
not in ye moode." 

Just twenty-two years after this bout with Cupid, General 
George Washington, Commander-in-Chief of the Continental 
Army, occupied the Roger Morris Mansion as headquarters, 
the occupants having fled. Washington had a sly sense of 
humor, and on the occasion of his moving into the mansion, 
remarked to Colonel Aaron Burr, his aide, "I move in here 
for sentimental reasons — ^^I have a small and indirect claim 
on the place. " 

It was Washington who formally confiscated the property, 
and turned it over to the State of New York as contraband of 
war t^ S' 

The Morris estate of about fifty thousand acres was parceled 
out and sold by the State of New York to settlers. 
It seems, however, that Roger Morris had only a life interest 
in the estate and this was a legal point so fine that it was en- 
tirely overlooked in the joy of confiscation. Washington was 
a great soldier, but an indifferent lawyer. 
John Jacob Astor accidentally ascertained the facts. He was 

convinced that the heirs could not be robbed of their rights 
through the acts of a leaseholder, which, legally was the 
status of Roger Morris. Astor was a good real estate lawyer 
himself, but he referred the point to the best counsel he 
could find. They agreed with him. He next hunted up the heirs 
and bought their quitclaims for one hundred thousand 
dollars ^ ^ 

He then notified the parties who had purchased the land, and 
they in turn made claim upon the State for protection. 
After much legal parleying the case was tried according to 
stipulation with the State of New York, directly, as defendant 
and Astor and the occupants as plaintiffs. Daniel Webster 
and Martin Van Buren appeared for the State, and an array of 
lesser legal lights for Astor. 

The case was narrowed down to the plain and simple point 
that Roger Morris was not the legal owner of the estate, and 
that the rightful heirs could not be made to suffer for the 
"treason, contumacy and contravention" of another. Astor 
won, and as a compromise the State issued him twenty-year 
bonds bearing six per cent interest, for the neat sum of five 
hundred thousand dollars — not that Astor needed the money 
but finance was to him a game, and he had won. 





N front of the first A. T. Stewart 
store there used to be an old 
woman who sold apples. Regard- 
less of weather, there she sat and 
mumbled her wares at the passer- 
by. She was a combination beggar 
and merchant, with a blundering 
wit, a ready tongue and a vocabu- 
lary unfit for publication. 
Her commercial genius is shown 
in the fact that she secured one 
good paying customer — Alexander 
T. Stewart. Stewart grew to believe in her as his spirit of good 
luck. Once when bargains had been offered at the Stewart 
store and the old woman was not at her place on the curb, 
the merchant-prince sent his carriage for her in hot haste 
"lest offense be given." And the day was saved. 
When the original store was abandoned for the Stewart 
"Palace" the old apple woman with her box, basket and 
umbrella were tenderly taken along, too. 
John Jacob Astor had no such belief in luck omens, portents, 
or mascots as had A. T. Stewart. With him success was a 
sequence — a result — it was all cause and effect. A. T. Stewart 
did not trust entirely to luck, for he too, carefully devised and 
planned. But the difference between the Celtic and Teutonic 
mind is shown in that Stewart hoped to succeed, while Astor 
knew that he would. One was a bit anxious; the other 
exasperatingly placid. 

Astor took a deep interest in the Lewis and Clark expedition. 
^ He went to Washington to see Lewis, and questioned him 

at great length about the Northwest. Legend says that he JOHN 
gave the hardy discoverer a thousand dollars, which was a J- ASTOR 
big amount for him to give away. 

Once a committee called on him with a subscription list for 
some worthy charity. Astor subscribed fifty dollars. One of 
the disappointed committee remarked, **0h, Mr. Astor, your 
son William gave us a hundred dollars." 
<*Yes," said the old man, "Put you must remember that 
William has a rich father. '* 

Washington Irving has told the story of Astoria at length. It 
was the one financial plunge taken by John Jacob Astor. 
And in spite of the fact that it failed, the whole affair does 
credit to the prophetic brain of Astor. 
"This country will see a chain of growing and prosperous 
cities straight from New York to Astoria, Oregon, " said this 
man in reply to a doubting questioner. 
He laid his plans before Congress, urging a line of army posts, 
forty miles apart, from the western extremity of Lake 
Superior to the Pacific. "These forts or army posts will evolve 
into cities, " said Astor, when he called on Thomas Jefferson, 
who was then President of the United States. Jefferson was 
interested, but non-committal. Astor exhibited maps of the 
Great Lakes, and the country beyond. He argued with a 
prescience then not possessed by any living man that at the 
western extremity of Lake Superior would grow up a great 
city. Yet in Eighteen Hundred and Seventy-six, Duluth was 
ridiculed by the caustic tongue of Proctor Knott, who asked, 
"What will become of Duluth when the lumber crop is cut?'* 
Astor proceeded to say that another great city would grow 
up at the southern extremity of Lake Michigan. General 


JOHN ^^earborn, Secretary of War under Jefiferson had just estab- 
T ASTOR ^^s^®^ ^^^* Dearborn on the present site of Chicago. Astor 
commended this, and said : " From a fort you get a trading 
post, and from a trading post you will get a city. " 
He pointed out to Jefferson the site, on his map, of the Falls 
of St. Anthony. "There you will have a fort some day, for 
wherever there is water-power, there will grow up mills for 
grinding grain and sawmills, as well. This place of power will 
have to be protected, and so you will have there a post which 
will eventually be replaced by a city. " Yet Fort Snelling was 
nearly fifty years in the future and St. Paul and Minneapolis 
were dreams undreamed. 

Jefferson took time to think about it and then wrote Astor 
thus, "Your beginning of a city on the Western Coast is a 
great acquisition, and I look forward to a time when our 
population will spread itself up and down along the whole 
Pacific frontage, unconnected with us, excepting by ties of 
blood and common interest, and enjoying like us, the rights 
of self-government." 

The Pilgrim Fathers thought land that lay inward from the sea 
as valueless. The forest was an impassible barrier. Later, up 
to the time of George Washington, the AUeghanies were 
regarded as a natural barrier. Patrick Henry likened the 
Alleghany Mountains to the Alps that separated Italy from 
Germany and said, "The mountain ranges are lines that God 
has set to separate one people from another. " 
Later, statesmen have spoken of the ocean in the same way, 
as proof that a union of all countries under an international 
capital could never exist. 

Great as was Jefferson, he regarded the achievement of 

Lewis and Clarke as a feat and not an example. He looked jOHN 
upon the Rocky Mountains as a natural separation of j AS TOR 
peoples ** bound by ties of blood and mutual interest" but 
otherwise unconnected. To pierce these mighty mountains 
with tunnels, and whisper across them with the human voice, 
were miracles unguessed. But Astor closed his eyes and saw 
pack-trains, mules laden with skins, winding across these 
mountains, and down to tide-water at Astoria. There his ships 
would be lying at the docks, ready to sail for the Far East. 
James J. Hill was yet to come. 

COMPANY was formed, and two 
expeditions set out for the mouth 
of the Columbia River, one by 
land and the other by sea. 
The land expedition barely got 
through alive — it was a perilous 
undertaking, with accidents by 
flood and field and in the imminent 
deadly breech. 

But the route by the water was 

The town was founded and soon 
became a centre of commercial activity. Had Astor been on 
thef ground to take personal charge, a city like Seattle would 
have bloomed and blossomed on the Pacific, fifty years ago. 
But power at Astoria was subdivided among several little men, 


JOHN who wore themselves out in a struggle for honors, and to see 
J. ASTOR who would be greatest in the kingdom of heaven. John Jacob 
Astor was too far away to send a current of electricity through 
the vacuum of their minds, light up the recesses with reason, 
and shock them into sanity. Like those first settlers at 
Jamestown, the pioneers at Astoria saw only failure ahead, 
and that which we fear, we bring to pass. To settle a con- 
tinent with men is almost as difficult as Nature's attempt to 
form a soil on a rocky surface. 

There came a grand grab at Astoria and it was each for him- 
self and the devil take the hindermost— it was a stampede. 
^ System and order went by the board. The strongest stole 
the most, as usual, but all got a little. And England's gain in 
citizens was our loss. 

Astor lost a million dollars by the venture. He smiled calmly 
and said, **The plan was right, but my men were weak, that 
is all. The gateway to China will be from the northwest. My 
plans were correct. Time will vindicate my reasoning. " 
When the block on Broadway, bounded by Vesey and Barclay 
Streets, was cleared of its plain two story houses, preparatory 
to building the Astor House, wise men shook their heads and 
said, **It's too far uptown." 

But the free bus that met all boats solved the difficulty, and 
gave the cue to hotel men all over the world. The hotel that 
runs full is a gold mine. Hungry men feed, and the beautiful 
part about the hotel business is that the customers are hungry 
the next day — also thirsty. Astor was worth ten million, but 
he took a personal delight in sitting in the lobby of the Astor 
House and watching the dollars roll into this palace that his 
brain had planned. To have an idea — to watch it grow — to 

then work it out, and see it made manifest in concrete sub- JOHN 
stance, this was his joy. The Astor House was a bigger J. ASTOR 
hostelry in its day than the Waldorf-Astoria is now. 
Astor was tall, thin, and commanding in appearance. He had 
only one hallucination, and that was that he spoke the Eng- 
lish language. The accent he possessed at thirty was with him 
in all its pristine effulgence at eighty-five. "Nopody vould 
know I vas a Cherman — aind't it?" he used to say. He spoke 
French, a dash of Spanish and could parley in Choctaw, 
Ottawa, Mohawk and Huron. But they who speak several 
languages must not be expected to speak any one language 
well Ji> Jt> 

Yet when John Jacob wrote it was English without a flaw. 
In all of his dealings he was uniquely honorable and upright. 
He paid and he made others pay. His word was his bond. He 
was not charitable in the sense of indiscriminate giving. "To 
give something for nothing is to weaken the giver, " was one 
of his favorite sayings. That this attitude protected a miserly 
spirit, it is easy to say, but it is not wholly true. In his later 
years he carried with him a book containing a record of his 
possessions. This was his breviary. In it he took a very 
pardonable delight. He would visit a certain piece of property, 
and then turn to his book and see what it had cost him ten or 
twenty years before. To reaHze that his prophetic vision had 
been correct was to him a great source of satisfaction. 
His habits were of the best. He went to bed at nine o'clock, 
and was up before six. At seven he was at his office. He knew 
enough to eat sparingly and to walk, so he was never sick. 
^ Millionaires as a rule are woefully ignorant. Up to a 
certain sum, they grow with their acquisitions. Then they 


JOHN tjegin to wither at the heart. The care of a fortune is a penalty 
J. AS TOR I advise the gentle reader to think twice before accumulating 
ten millions. 

John Jacob Astor was exceptional in his combined love of 
money and love of books. History was at his tongue's end, 
and geography was his plaything. Fitz-Greene Halleck was 
his private secretary, hired on a basis of literary friendship. 
Washington Irving was a close friend, too, and first crossed 
the Atlantic on an Astor pass. He banked on Washington 
Irving's genius, and loaned him money to come and go, and 
buy a house. Irving was named in Astor's will as one of the 
trustees of the Astor Library Fund, and repaid all favors by 
writing "Astoria.'* 

Astor died, aged eighty-six. It was a natural death, a thing 
that very seldom occurs. The machinery all ran down at once. 
^ Realizing his lack of book advantages, he left by his will 
four hundred thousand dollars to found the Astor Library, 
in order that others might profit where he had lacked. 
He also left fifty thousand dollars to his native town of 
Waldorf, a part of which money was used to found an Astor 
Library there. God is surely good, for if millionaires were 
immortal, their money would cause them great misery and 
the swollen fortunes would crowd mankind, not only 'gainst 
the wall, but into the sea. Death is the deliverer, for Time 
checks power and equalizes all things, and gives the new 
generation a chance. 

Astor hated gamblers. He never confused gambling, as a 
mode of money getting, with actual production. He knew 
that gambling produces nothing — it merely transfers wealth, 
changes ownership. And since it involves loss of time and 

energy it is a positive waste. ^Yet to buy land and hold it, JO^N 
thus betting on its rise in value, is not production, either. J- ASTOR 
Nevertheless, this was to Astor, legitimate and right. 
Henry George threw no shadow before, and no economist had 
ever written that to secure land and hold it unused, awaiting 
a rise in value, was a dog-in-the-manger, unethical and 
selfish policy. Morality is a matter of longitude and time. 
Astor was a member of the Dutch Reformed Church, and 
yet he lived out his days with a beautiful and perfect dis- 
belief in revealed religion. 

He knew enough of biology to know that religions are not 
"revealed" — they are evolved. Yet he recognized the value 
of the Church as a social factor. To him it was a good police 
system, and so when rightly importuned he gave, with be- 
coming moderation, to all faiths and creeds. 
A couple of generations back in his ancestry there was a 
renegade Jew who loved a Christian girl, and thereby moulted 
his religion. When Cupid crosses swords with a priest, religion 
gets a death stroke. This stream of free blood was the inheri- 
tance of John Jacob Astor. 

William B. Astor, the son of John Jacob, was brought up in 
the financial way he should go. He was studious, methodical, 
conservative, and had the good sense to carry out the wishes 
of his father. His son John Jacob Astor was very much like 
him, only of more neutral tint. The time is now ripe for 
another genius in the Astor family. If William B. Astor 
lacked the courage and initiative of his parent, he had more 
culture, and spoke English without an accent. The son of 
John Jacob Astor second, is William Waldorf Astor, who 
speaks English with an English accent, you know. 


JOHN John Jacob Astor, besides having the first store for the sale 

J. ASTOR of musical instruments in America, organized the first 

orchestra of over twelve players. He brought over a leader 

from Germany, and did much to foster the love of music in 

the New World. 

Every worthy Maecenas imagines that he is a great painter, 
writer, sculptor or musician, side-tracked by material cares 
thrust upon him by unkind fate. John Jacob Astor once told 
Washington Irving that it was only business responsibility 
that prevented his being a novelist; and at other times he 
declared his intent to take up music as a profession as soon as 
he had gotten all of his securities properly tied up. And 
whether he worked out his dreams or not, there is no doubt 
but that they added to his peace, happiness and length of 
days. Happy is the man who escapes the critics by leaving his 
literary masterpiece in the ink. 



OU have heard me talk about 
Elbert Hubbard, haven't you? I 
think he is the best writer in the 
world, and the clearest thinker. I 
don't always agree with him, but 
then, I don't always agree with 
myself. I revere him because he 
says what sets me to thinking, and 
he has taught me more than any 
other man I ever read. Of course I 
understand the risk I run in 
admiring a man that 's alive and 
liable to go wrong ; but I 'm tak- 
ing that risk with my eyes open, 
with the sincere hope that Fra Elbertus will manage to 
keep straight till the Reaper comes. He publishes **The 
Philistine" and LITTLE JOURNEYS, every month, and 
I can make you a subscriber to these two for ten shillings a 
year. And the joke is, that when you pay your subscription, 
the Fra sends you a de luxe book that is worth the ten shillings. 
He is a wonder. He has a big place at East Aurora, New York 
State, and the next time I go home I must surely get that far 
to see the place. He employs about five hundred hands, under 
ideal conditions ; he lives the life, and gets thousands of others 
to do the same. Now, I want to tell you something about the 
Fra Jt' J> 

THE Federation of Labor has declared The Roycroft Shop 
at East Aurora, on the Unfair List. And I 'm glad ! They 
did that two years ago, but the Fra just found it out by an 
advertiser calling off, and declaring that the Union will fix 
him if he deals with a shop that does not use the *' Union 
Label." I 'm glad the Fra has been declared a scab, because 

first, the Fra is a friend of mine. I never met him, but you 
don't need to meet your friends at all. I have friends who 
have been dead thousands of years, and they are more real 
to me than many of the folks I meet every day. The Fra and 
I are friends, even if we never meet. I 'm glad they have boy- 
cotted him, because he is a man with the power of expression, 
with a soul to understand, with an eye to see, and with a 
heart to feel. The Fra is the best man in America to put on 
the Unfair List, because he can tell what has happened, and 
his story will appeal to thousands, aye, to millions. It is the 
best thing that ever happened to him, for as soon as ever I 
heard of it, I wanted to declare my friendship for him, and 
to say: **Buck up, ole man, I *m your backer." 

THE Fra says that the reason he is boycotted is that, "The 
Roycrof t Shop is teaching trades to an unlimited number 
of boys and girls." He adds further: **Let it be said that The 
Roycrof t Shop has never had a strike ; that the wages we pay 
are above the Union Scale ; that the conditions under which 
The Roycrofters work are better than any Union ever de- 
manded or imagined." So The Federation of Labor has de- 
clared the roy craft (the king's workers) a **scab shop." 
^ Good, so let it be ! I want to say some things about Unions 
in general, and this levelling down business, in particular. 
^ You will notice that I headed this gossip, "Socialism and 
Labor." I wrote that before I started, for I want to explain 
some things in regard to my views, as I promised "Austra- 
lienne " last week. When a man asks me if I 'm a Socialist I 
answer him according to the sort of man I think he is. If he 
is a Christian Socialist who wants to level all men up to be 
the "Sons of God," then I 'm a Socialist. If he means — do I 
want to level all men down to the same stage, where we shall 
all be alike, then I say, "No, I 'm not a Socialist. " But no two 
men mean the same thing when they use the same word. 
I 'm not going to set up a straw man for the sake of knocking 

him down again. I may as well say, here and now, that you 
can't label me. No union label will fit me. I *m a free man, or 
as near free as a foolish education and a silly world will allow 
me to be. But Labor is n't the same as Socialism ! Is it? You 
see, I *m a Labor man, if it means a man that labors ; but it 
means something else. You will find that the difference be- 
tween Labor and Socialism is but the difference between 
tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum. But as very few men are 
accurate thinkers we are under the impression that they are 
different things. They are not ! 

THE aim of the Union is to make all men equal. That is a 
noble ideal. The aim of the Union is that there shall be 
no very rich, and no very poor, but that all men shall be 
brothers. That is also a noble ideal, but the aim of Socialism 
— or Labor, call it which you like — is to abolish all the moun- 
tains, and reduce us all to a dead level. It aims at the lazy 
people's heavenly ideal of eternal peace and idleness, and 
that means mental degradation. The law of the Overland 
is, **eat or be eaten." I think it is a hideously cruel law, but 
I 'm not responsible for it. It was there when the human race 
came into the world, and it will be there till the human race 
has had its day and ceased to be. We are what we were born 
to be, to an enormous extent, and the levellers are what they 
are, owing to their ignorance. Life itself is but a brief con- 
vulsion between two eternities, and we know not what it 
means, as a steady thing. Old Saadi, the Persian, remarked a 
few centuries ago — 

Open the tombs and see the bones 

there mixed in mockery! 
Which dust was servant, which was 

lord? open the tombs and see! 

THE Federation of Labor has declared The Roycrof t Shop a 
scab shop, unless it comes down to the union label, and 


gives itself over, soul and body, to the domination of the 
Union. That is the simple desire of socialism and labor, to 
reduce us all to the dead level of mediocrity. We are to be all 
of one blood, all brethren, and the Ape and the Tiger are to be 
eliminated by the union. God bless the union, merry gentle- 
men ! Don*t laugh at it though, for, mind you, the ideal is a 
lovely one. But there is no hope for it, because when one race 
is levelled down to the Union platform, a more virile race 
will come along and sweep it from off the face of the earth. If 
we level the mountains, we shall have very level plains, and 
Nature will not have levels for long. The volcano and the 
earthquake are forever at work, and eternal motion and 
movement is the law of the Universe. Nothing endures but 
change! Dead levels are unthinkable. Life itself is exploita- 
tion, dominance, destruction. 

LOOK at all democracies, all forms of ** united" workers. 
They object to paying for brains. If the wages of the 
men are eight shillings a day, they would refuse to give a 
man with brains a thousand pounds a year for supervision. 
^ We are to be all full privates in the new democracy, and 
the cry is, **Down with all that 's up, " but the law will not be 
contemned of any, and the fact that the Fra*s shop at East 
Aurora has been declared a scab shop will open the eyes of 
millions. I am glad that my friend has been boycotted, for it 
will help us to understand what Unionism means. Listen to 
the Fra. He says: **A labor union may do good. I never ask 
a man whether he belongs to a union any more than I would 
ask if he belongs to a church. That is his business. I most 
certainly would not ask him to renounce his union unless the 
union were trying to throttle him. Even then it is his affair. 
But certainly we will not be dictated to by men with less 
intelligence, energy, initiative and ambition than we ourselves 
possess. " Right, Fra, the men with brains and initiative must 
rule, and they will rule in spite of all unions! I have spoken. 
— R. McMillan, in the Sidney, Australia, "Journal." 


^Y'When writing men like Gentile Bellini, William Cazton, 
%^l Benjamin Franklin, Horace Walpole, William Morris and 
^ Thomas De Vinne felt in the mood to exude some particu- 
larly hot copy, they hiked for the type-case and worked their 
energy up into a galley of Good Stuff. They setup the matter as 
they composed it. Thus we get the words "composing-stick" 
and "compositor." Qln those days the printer was always a man 
of considerable literary ability. People used to doff their hats 
when they met him on the street and address "Mr. Printer." And 
as a follow-up custom, it was only the day before yesterday that 
folks stopped saying "Mr. Editor." <5 These early printer-authors 
had pronounced preferences for different type faces and families, 
and the adoption or rejection of these various choices segregated 
all shops into exponents of certain "styles." QEvery print-shop 
now has its particular conception of what constitutes style in 
typography. No two offices have identical views on this subject, 
though all of them are evolving towards an Idea which had its 
first modern impulse in The Roycroft Shop. Q The beauty and 
adaptability of this Idea found for it considerable favor, and 
' 'Roycroft Style" is now a well-known phrase in commercial print- 
ing circles. But the best printers in the country have been unable 
to successfully reproduce "Roycroft Style." For "Roycroft 
Style" is more than a style, it 's an Art— an Art born of 
Artistic Environment and developed by boys and girls 
working under conditions which approach the Ideal. At ^ 
The Roycroft Shop we produce both Art and Artists. 

If You Want Printing Done Very i jq 
De Lxixe, Let Us Know Your Needs 



The Book-keeper? 

IF NOT, will you take advantage of 
this offer and let us prove that you 
as a representative business man 
should know THE BOOK-KEEPER 
better than you now do. 

Each monthly issue for the coming year 
will contain articles of vast importance 
to you personally. 

You may accept this as our guarantee 
of a highly interesting and instructive 
magazine for Nineteen Hundred and 

Read this number carefully and then 
send us Twenty-five cents for a three 
months' trial subscription beginning 
with the February number, the issue of 
strong articles by well-known writers. 



91 West Fort Street - Detroit, Michigan 


9,059-Word Business Book 


q Simply send us a postal and ask for our 
free illustrated 9,059-word Business Booklet 
which tells how priceless Business Ex- 
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men maybe made yours — yours to boost your 
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booklet deals with — How to manage a busi- 
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by mail — How to buy at rock-bottom — How^ 
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How to train and handle men — How to get 
and hold a position — How to advertise a 
business — How to devise office methods. 
QSending for this free book binds you to noth- 
ing, involves you in no obligation; yet it maybe 
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when it involves only the risk of a postal — a 
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SYSTEM, Dept.240,151-153WabashAve.,Clucago,m. 


Twenty-five Assorted Philistines, One Dollar 
Twenty-five Assorted Little Journeys, One Dollar 


STUDENTS of Current Events, also Literary Aspirants, 
read THE PHILISTINE for Vibes, Vibrations and 
Volts; for style in diction; for unbiased, intelligent 
opinions on Things as Things. QMany choice articles have 
decorated THE PHILISTINE pages during the past ten 
years; Articles that attracted a following numbering into 
the hundred thousands; Articles that gained and earned 
the sanctified horror of Theological Tea-Drinkers. QtHE 
PHILISTINE w&s and is the Advance Agent of Mental 
Emancipation. You hear the Voice of Freedom in THE 
A LIBERAL EDUCATION ^ ^ J' J' ^ Ji> Jt' ^ J- Ji> 

The Good Stuff Never Grows Old 

LITTLE JOURNEYS deal with the Great and Near- 
Great of History. They tell in a friendly, confidential 
way, the hopes and fears, the achievements and the dis- 
appointments, the joys and the sorrows of the World's 
Elect. A hfe is a wonderful thing, beheves the Fra, and not 
a single scene in the panorama is without its use. QTho 
preserving identities, he introduces a flesh-and-blood man, 
whose struggles are your struggles and whose attainments 
are your attainments. You meet the Genius on a Basis of 
Equality. Q'Tis easy to tear down, to destroy, to muck- 
rake — Hubbard upbuilds. C^Sent^ the Dollar Today 

THE ROYCROFTERS, East Aurora, New York 




LIFE spent 



should be 

measured by deeds, 
not years % :p^ :5^ ^ 


Vol. 25 


No. 1 


TO THg HOM E^Tff] 



^^^F gQY^ 




\//HKH-l9-3a ggSlJZ 



spppiRn-^ -M • i-:^ 






Ettterad at Uie p<«taface in East Aurora, New York, tor transmission as aecoud-claas matter 
Copyright, 1»09, by Elbert Hubbard, Editor and Publisher, 

0iuiml Conbention 

August Twenty-third to September First 

ARLY last September, Professor S. L. Barrow- 
Clough, Master Musician of Winnipeg, and his 
sixty-one bonnie, blue-eyed Band Boys paid us 
a visit here in East Aurora. QOut on the Peri- 
style, underneath an Orange Moon, surrounded 
by giant trees, these men played to the greatest audiences 
ever assembled in East Aurora. QOver three thousand 
people. Royal, Loyal Roycrofters, gathered to greet the 
Winnipeg Band J> They perched on the Peristyle, they 
carried benches down around the Fountain in the Court, 
they overflowed the lawns, clustered about the Well Sweep 
and swarmed the Stone Walls and Tree Seats in the 
Orchard like Locusts «^ Such Music ! G[And now, Barrow- 
Clough and his Premier Performers are coming back. They 
have accepted our Invitation; they will bring their Instru- 
ments and spend a week. Q Other Musicians, Soloists, 
Vocalists and Troifpes are coming too, and for a time the 
Home of The Roycrofters will be transformed into a Garden 
of Harmony. QSo now then we announce a Congress of 
Musicians, August Twenty-third to September First «^ 
There is a place at the Roycroft Festal Board for every 
lover of Sweet Sounds. Only, if you are coming you had 
better let us know a bit beforehand »^ ^ j^ j^ j^ ^ 

Cfje a^opcrofterjs. Cast aiurora, ^t^ |?orfe 

Inspirational Little Journeys 


^TT Progressive Educators consider a complete 
^ij set of Little Journeys in many ways superior 
to a four years' Course in College English. 
Others value their condensed Historical teach- 
ings; while the yield to the literary aspirant 
is style in diction and virility. ^Free from the 
Cumbersome and Conventional — Little Jour- 
neys pulse "with interest. Subjects as follows: 

Vol. 6. Morris, Browning, Tennyson, Burns, Milton, 

Vol. 7. Macaulay, Byron, Addison, Southey, Coleridge, 

Disraeli. ^ 
Vol. 8. Wagner, Paganini, Chopin, Mozart, Bach, 

Vol. 9. Liszt, Beethoven, Handel, Verdi, Schumann, 

Vol. 10. Raphael, Leonardo, Botticelli, Thorwaldsen, 

Gainsborough, Velasquez. 
Vol. 11. Corot, Correggio, Bellini, Cellini, Whistler, 

Vol. 12. Pericles, Anthony, Savonarola, Luther, Burke, 

Vol. 13. Marat, Ingersoll, Patrick Henry, Starr King, 

Beecher, Phillips. 
Vol. 14. Socrates, Aristotle, Spinoza, Seneca, Aurelius, 

Vol. 15. Kant, Comte, Voltaire, Spencer, Schopenhauer, 



Vol. 16. Copernicus, Newton, Herschel, Galileo, Hum- 
boldt, Darwin. 

Vol. 17. Haeckel, Linnaeus, Huxley, Tyndall, Wallace, 

Vol. 18. Josiah and Sarah Wedgwood, William Godwin 
and Mary Wollstonecraft, Dante and Beatrice, 
John Stuart Mill and Harriet Taylor, Parnell 
and Kitty O'Shea, Petrarch and Laura. 

Vol. 19. Dante Gabriel Rossetti and Elizabeth Siddal, 
Balzac and Madame Hanska, Fenelon and 
Madame Guyon, Ferdinand Lassalle and Helen 
von Donniges, Lord Nelson and Lady Hamilton, 
Robert Louis Stevenson and Fannie Osbourne. 

Vol. 20. John Wesley, Henry George, Garibaldi, Richard 
Cobden, Thomas Paine, John Knox. 

Vol. 21. John Bright, Oliver Cromwell, Theodore Parker, 
Bradlaugh, Anne Hutchinson, Jean Jacques 

Vol. 22. Moses, Confucius, Pythagoras, Plato, King 
Alfred, Friedrich Froebel, 

Vol. 23. Booker T. Washington, Thomas Arnold, Eras- 
mus, Hypatia, St. Benedict, Mary Baker Eddy. 

The above-named Little Journeys have been 
reprinted on Italian Hand-made paper, and 
Bound artfully in Limp leather, silk-lined, gilt 
top, with silk marker. Six Little Journeys in 
each Volume — some few are illumined by hand. 

East Aurora, Elrie County, New York 

Poets, like painters thus unskilled to trace 

The naked nature and the living grace. 

With gold and jewels cover every part. 

And hide with ornaments their want of art.— Pope 

Roycroft Furniture 




'HE men who make 
Roycroft Furniture 
do not cover theit skill 
with ornamentation. They 
do not permit Rococo 
finishes or Rocaille de- 
signs to clutter the sur- 
face of their work. Beds, 
Bookcases and Tables 
made by East Aurora 
Craftsmen never border 
on the Baroque, nor do 
the chairs and benches 
creak beneath the Seats 
of the Mighty. Q Sturdy 
and strong as the Artists 
who liberate them from 
the log, products of our 
Wood Shop please those 
people who see beauty in 
utility and service. Roy- 
croft Furniture presages 
a 'day when Common- 
sense shall hold sway in house decoration — when only the 
things are considered Best, whose Makers dedicated their 
work to Time. Catalogue on Application jIt ^ Jt jt Jt ji 
THE ROYCROFTERS, East Aurora, N. Y. 









S|)Z Ny H I \H -J^^ 3g S g 

Slg En^T- ni/RQRFI ^g ^g 

Sg sgEEEzmiziTra ^^ ^)Z 

M • ^ ■ M ■ I ^PlqPE 





LET our schools teach the nobility of labor, and the beauty of 
human service, but the superstitions of ages past — never I 
— PETER COOPER, Memorial to the Legislature of New York. 


ETER COOPER was born in New 
York City in Seventeen Hundred 
and Ninety-one. He lived to be 
ninety-two years old, passing out 
in Eighteen Hundred and Eighty- 
three ^ Jt» 

He was, successively, laborer, 
clerk, mechanic, inventor, manu- 
facturer, financier, teacher, phi- 
lanthropist and philosopher. 
If Robert Owen was the world's 
first modern merchant, Peter 
Cooper was America's first business man. He seems the first 
prominent man in the United States to abandon that legal 
wheeze, **caveat emptor." In fact, he worked for the buyer, 
and considered the other man's interests before he did his 
own. He practised the Golden Rule, and made it pay, while 
the most of us yet regard it as a kind of interesting experi- 
ment ^ J> 

I have said a few oblique things about city-bred boys, and 
city people in general, but I feel like apologizing for them 
and doing penance when I think of restless, tireless, eager, 
brave, honest and manly Peter Cooper. 
When that New York City woman, last week, observing a 
beautiful brass model of an Oliver Plow on my mantel asked 
me, "What is this musical instrument?" she proved herself 
not of the Peter Cooper tribe. 
She was the other kind — the kind that seeing the poUywogs 


remarks, **0h, how lovely — they will all be butterflies next 
week!" Or, "Which cow is it that gives the buttermilk?" 
a question that once made Nathan Straus walk on his hands. 
^Although Peter Cooper was born in New York City and had 
a home there most of his life, he loved the country, and for 
many years made Sunday sacred for the woods and fields jt 
Yet as a matter of strictest truth let it be stated that, although 
Peter Cooper was born in New York City, when he was two 
years old, like Bill Nye, he persuaded his parents to move. 
The family gravitated to the then little village of Peekskill, 
and here the lad lived until he was seventeen years old. 
Next to Benjamin Franklin, Peter Cooper was our all-round, 
educated American. His perfect health — living to a great 
age — with sanity and happiness as his portion, proves him 
to be one who knew the laws of health and also had the will 
to obey them. He never ** retired from business" — if he quit 
one kind of work it was to take up something more difficult. 
^ He was in the fight to the day of his death ; and always he 
carried the flag further to the front. 

He was a Free Thinker at a time when to have thoughts of 
your own was to be an outcast. His restless mind was no 
more satisfied with an outworn theology than with an out- 
grown system of transportation. 

His religion was blended with his work and fused with his life. 
^ He built the first railway locomotive in America, and was 
its engineer, until he taught others how. 
He rolled the first iron rails for railroads. 
He made the first iron beams for use in constructing fire- 




proof buildings. ^He was the near and dear friend and 
adviser of Cyrus W. Field and lent his inventive skill, his 
genius and his money, to the laying of the Atlantic Cable ; and 
was the President for eighteen years of the Atlantic Cable 

In building and endowing Cooper Union, he outlined a system 
of education, so beneficent that it attracted the attention of 
the thinking men of the world. And it is even now serving as 
a model upon which our entire public-school system will yet 
be founded — a system that works not for culture, for bric-a- 
brac purposes, but for character and competence. A what-not 
education may be impressive but is worthless as collateral j> 
The achievements of Peter Cooper make the average success- 
ful man look like a pigmy. 

What the world needs is a few more Peter Coopers — rich 
men who do not absolve themselves by drawing checks for 
charity, but who give their lives and inventive skill for 
human betterment. 
Let us catch up with Peter Cooper. 



OHN COOPER, the father of Peter 
Cooper, was of English stock. He 
was twenty-one years old in that 
most unforgettable year, Seven- 
teen Hundred and Seventy-six. At 
the first call to arms, he enlisted as 
a minuteman. He fought valiantly 
through the war, in the field, and 
in the fortifications surrounding 
New York City, and came out of 
Freedom's fight penniless, but with 
one valuable possession — a wife. 
C| In Seventeen Hundred and Seventy-nine, he had married the 
daughter of General John Campbell, his commander, who 
was then stationed at West Point. It was an outrageous thing 
for a sergeant to do, and I am sorry to say it was absolutely 
without orders or parental permission. The bride called it a 
Cooper union. 

The Campbells, very properly, were Scotch, and the Scotch 
have a bad habit of thinking themselves a trifle better than 
the English. Like the Irish, they regard an Englishman with 
suspicion. The Scotch swear that they have never been con- 
quered, certainly not by J. Bull, who has always been quite 
willing to give them anything they ask for. 
At the time of his marriage, Sergeant Cooper was engaged in 
the laudable business of looking after General Campbell's 
horses, and also making garden for the Campbell family ^ Jt> 



N the gardening, he worked under 
the immediate orders of Margaret 
Campbell. After hours, the Ser- 
geant used to play a piccolo, and 
among other tuneful lays he piped 
one called, "The Campbells Are 
Coming." ^ Jt> 

It was on one such musical occa- 
sion that the young couple simply 
walked off and got married, thus 
proving a point which I have long 
held, to wit: Music is a secondary 
love manifestation. 

On being informed of the facts. General Campbell promptly 
ordered that Sergeant John Cooper be shot. 
Before the execution could take place, the sentence was 
commuted to thirty days in the guard-house. After serving 
one day, the culprit was pardoned on petition of his wife. 
In a month he was made a Captain, and later a Lieutenant jk 
The business of a soldier is not apt to be of a kind to develop 
his mental resources. Soldiers fight under orders; and 
initiative, production and economy are mere abstractions to 
your man of the sword. A soldier has but two duties to per- 
form, according to a book on military tactics which I have 
been reading. These duties are respectively: to destroy the 
enemy, and to evade the enemy. This is the sum of all fight- 
ing, and the question of just how one can both evade the 
enemy and destroy the enemy, and the further theme as to 



the relative importance of these duties, must be left for a 
later discussion. 

Suffice it to say that in the War, John Campbell lost the 
ability to become a civilian of the first rank. 
He was industrious but improvident ; he made money and he 
lost it. He had a habit of abandoning good inventions for 
worse ones. The ability to eliminate is good, but in sifting 
ideas let us cleave to those that are workable, until Fate 
proves there is something really better. 
Peter Cooper was the fifth child in a family of nine. Bees 
know the secret of sex, but man does not. Peter Cooper's 
mother thought that her fifth child was to be a girl, but it was 
not until after the boy had grown to be a man, and was 
proving his prowess, that his parents remembered why they 
had called him Peter, and said, **0n this rock shall our 
family be built." 

To be born of parents who do not know how to get on, and 
be one of a big family, is a great blessing. We are taught by 
antithesis quite as much as by injunction and direction. And 
chiefest of all we are taught through struggle, and not 
through immunity in that vacuum called complete success. 
^ Peter Cooper's childhood was one of toil and ceaseless en- 
deavor. Just one year did he go to school, just one year in all 
his life, and then for only half a day at a time. His short 
ration of books made him anxious to know — anxious to 
learn — and so his disadvantages gave him a thing which 
college often fails to bestow, that is the Study Habit. And the 
reason he got it was because he wanted to go to school and 

P "E T E R 


could not. CIHappy Peter Cooper! ^And yet he never really 
knew that many a youth is sent to school and dinged at by 
pedagogues, until examinations become a nightmare, and 
college a penalty ^ Thus it happens that many a college 
graduate is so rejoiced on getting through and standing 
"on the threshold," that he never looks in a book after- 
ward Ji Of such a one we can properly say, **He got his 
education in college" — when all the world knows that the 
education that really counts is that which we get out of Life. 

ETER COOPER, very early in life, 
had the climbing propensity. 
Later it developed into a habit; 
and shifting ground from the 
physical to the psychic he con- 
tinued to climb all of his life. 
Also he made others climb, for no 
man climbeth by himself alone. 
At twelve, Peter Cooper proudly 
walked the ridge-pole of the 
family residence, to the great 
astonishment and admiration of 
the little girls and the jealousy of the boys. When the chil- 
dren would run in breathlessly and announce to the busy 



mother, " Peter, he is on the house ! " the mother would reply, 
**Then he will not get drowned in the Hudson River!" 
At other times it was, ** Peter, he is swimming across the 
River!" The mother then found solace in the thought that 
the boy was not in immediate danger of sliding off the house 
and breaking his neck. 

Once little Peter climbed a lofty elm to get a hanging bird's 
nest that was built far out on a high projecting limb. He 
reached the nest all right, but his diagnosis was not correct, 
for it proved to be a hornets' nest, beyond dispute. 
To escape the wrath of the hornets, Peter descended the tree 
"overhand," which being interpreted means that he dropped 
and caught the limbs as he went down so as to decrease the 
speed. The last drop was about thirty feet. The fall did n't 
hurt, but the sudden stop broke his collar-bone, knocked out 
three teeth and cut a scar on his chin that lasted him all of 
his days Ji- jt 

Life is a dangerous business — few get out of it alive. 
Life consists in betting on your power to do — to achieve — to 
accomplish — to climb — to become. If you mistake hornets 
for birds, you pay the penalty for your error, as you pay for 
all mistakes. The only men who do things are those who dare 
fl Safety can be secured by doing nothing, saying nothing, 
being nothing. Here 's to those who dare ! 
Because a thing had never been done before was to Peter 
Cooper no reason why it should not be done now. 
And although he innocently stirred up a few hornets' nests, 
he became a good judge of both birds and hornets through 


personal experience. QThat is the advantage of making mis- 
takes. But wisdom lies in not responding to encores. 
Peter Cooper's body was marked by the falls, mauls, hauls, 
and scars of burns and explosions. Surely if God does not 
look us over for medals and diplomas, but for scars, then 
Peter Cooper fulfilled the requirements. 
When seventeen years old, he went down to New York and 
apprenticed himself to a coachmaker. Woodward by name. 
^ He was to get his board, washing and mending, and twenty- 
five dollars a year. It was a four years' contract — selling 
himself into service and servitude. 

The first two years he saved twenty dollars out of his wages. 
^ The third year his employer voluntarily paid him fifty 
dollars; and the fourth year seventy-five. 
The young man had mastered the trade. 
Woodward's shop was at the corner of Broadway and Cham- 
bers Street, which was then the northern limit of the city. 
Just beyond this was a big garden, worked by a prosperous 
and enterprising Irishman who supplied vegetables to ship- 
captains ^ ^ 

This garden later was transformed into City Hall Park, and 
here the city buildings were erected, the finest in America 
for their purpose. 
The Irish still command the place. 

New York City then had less than forty thousand inhabitants. 
Peter Cooper was to see the city grow to two million. For 
seventy-one years after his majority he was to take an active 
and intelligent interest in its evolution, tinting its best 



thought and hopes with his own aspiration J^ The building 
of coaches then was a great trade. It was stage-coach 
times, and a good coach was worth anywhere from three 
hundred to a thousand dollars. The work was done by small 
concerns, where the proprietors and their 'prentices would 
turn out three or four vehicles a year. To build the finest 
coaches in the world was the ambition of Peter Cooper. 
But to get a little needed capital he hired out to a manu- 
facturer of woolen cloth at Hempstead, Long Island, for a 
dollar and a half a day. A dollar a day was good wages then, 
but Cooper had inventive skill in working with machinery Ji> 
He had already invented and patented a machine for mortis- 
ing the hubs of wagon- wheels. 

Now he perfected a machine for finishing woolen cloth. As 
the invention was made on the time of, and in the mill where 
he worked, he was only given a one-third interest in it. 
He went on a visit to his old home at Peekskill, and there 
met Michael Vassar, who was to send the name of Vassar 
down the corridors of time, not as that of a weaver of wool 
and the owner of a very good brewery, but as the founder of a 
school for girls, or as it is somewhat anomalously called, **a 
female seminary." 

Peter Cooper sold the county-right of his patent to Michael 
Vassar for five hundred dollars. It was more money than the 
father had ever seen at one time in all of his life. 
The War of Eighteen Hundred and Twelve was on, and 
woolen cloth was in great demand, the supply from England 
having been shut off. 



Opportunity and Peter Cooper met, or is the man himself 

Opportunity? j^ J' 

The ratio of marriages, we are told, keeps pace with the price 

of com ^ .^ 

On the strength of his five hundred dollars, Peter Cooper 

embarked on the sea of matrimony, as the village editors 

express it. 

When Peter Cooper married Sarah Bedell, it was a fortunate 

thing for the world. Peter Cooper was a Commonsense Man, 

which is really better than to be a genius. A Commonsense 

Man is one who does nothing to make people think he is 

different from what he is. 

He is one who would rather be than seem! 

But a Commonsense Man needs a Commonsense Woman to 

help him live a Commonsense Life. Mrs. Cooper was a 

Commonsense Woman. She was of Huguenot parentage. 

^ Persecution had given the Huguenots a sternness of mental 

and moral fiber, just as it had blessed and benefited the 

Puritans Ji> J^ 

The habit of independent thought got into the veins of these 

Huguenots, and they played important parts in the War of 

the Revolution. Like the Jews, they made good Free Thinkers. 

^ They reason things out without an idolatrous regard for 

precedent ^ j/^ 

^ For fifty-seven years Peter and Sarah fought the battle of 

life together. He clarified his thought by explaining his plans 

to her, and together they grew rich — rich in money, rich in 

experience, rich in love. 




HERE are men who are not con- 
tent to put all their eggs in one 
basket, and then watch the basket. 
^ Peter Cooper craved the excite- 
ment of adventure. His nature 
demanded new schemes, new 
plans, new methods upon which to 
break the impulse of his mind. The 
trade-wind of his genius did not 
blow constantly from one direction. 
Had he been content to focus on 
coach-building, he could have 
become rich beyond the dream of avarice. As it was, the fact 
that he could build as good a coach as any one else satisfied 
that quarter-section of his nature. 

When the war of Eighteen Hundred and Twelve closed, there 
was a great shrinkage in wool. Peter Cooper sold his holdings 
for a grocery-store, which he ran just long enough to restock 
and sell to a man who wanted it more than he did. 
Then he started a furniture-factory, for he was an expert 
worker in wood. 

But the bench for him was only by-play. 
As he worked, his mind roamed the world. 
He used glue in making the furniture. He bought his glue 
from a man who had a little factory on the site of what is 
now the Park Avenue Hotel. 

The man who made the glue did not like the business. He 
wanted to make furniture, just as comedians always want to 



play Hamlet. flPeter Cooper's furniture-shop was in a rented 
building. The glue man owned his site. Peter Cooper traded his 
furniture-shop for the glue-factory, and got a deed to the 
premises Jt> J> 

He was then thirty-three years old. The glue-factory was the 
foundation of his fortune. He made better glue and more glue 
than any concern in America. Few men of brains would get 
stuck on the glue business. There are features about it not 
exactly pleasant. 

The very difficulties of it, however, attracted Cooper. He 
never referred to his glue-factory as a chemical aboratory, 
nor did he call it a studio. 

He was proud of his business. He made the first isinglass 
manufactured in America, and for some years monopolized 
the trade ^ J^ 

But one business was not enough for Peter Cooper. Attached 
to the glue-factory was a machine-shop which was the scene 
of many inventions. 

Here in Eighteen Hundred and Twenty-seven and Eighteen 
Hundred and Twenty-eight, Peter Cooper worked out and 
made a steam-engine, which he felt sure was an improvement 
on the one that Watt had made in England. 
Peter Cooper's particular device was a plan to do away with 
the crank, and transform the rectilinear motion of the piston 
into rotary motion. He figured it out that this would save 
two-fifths of the steam, and so stated in his application for a 
patent, a copy of which is before the writer. 
The Patent Office then was looked after by the President in 



person. Peter Cooper's patent was signed by John Quincy 
Adams, President, Henry Clay, Secretary of State, and Wil- 
liam Wirt, Attorney General. The patent was good for 
fourteen years, so any one who cares to infringe on it can do 
so now without penalty. 

There were then no trained patent-examiners and the 
President and Secretary of State were not inclined to hamper 
inventors with technicalities. You paid your fee, the patent was 
granted, and all questions of priority were left to be fought 
out in the courts. More patents have been granted to one 
man — say Thomas A. Edison — than were issued in 
America all told, up to the time that Peter Cooper went 
down to Washington in person and explained his invention to 
John Quincy Adams and Henry Clay, who evidently were 
very glad to sign the patent, rather than bother to understand 
the invention. 

In his application Peter Cooper states, "This invention is a 
suitable motor for hauling land-carriages. " 
It was one year before this that Stephenson in England had 
given an exhibition in Manchester, England, on a circular 
two-mile track of his locomotive, the "Rocket." 
Cooper had not seen the "Rocket, " but Stephenson's example 
had fired his brain, and he had in his own mind hastened the 
system ^^ ^ 

At this time he was thirty-six years old. His glue business 
was prosperous. Several thousand dollars of his surplus he 
had invested in charcoal-kilns near Baltimore. From this he 
had gone into a land speculation in the suburbs of that city. 


His partners had abandoned the enterprise and left him to 
face the disgrace of failure. 

Commerce was drifting away from Baltimore to Philadelphia 
and New York. The Erie Canal had been opened, and it 
looked as if this would be the one route to the west — the 
Hudson River to Albany, thence by canal to Buffalo, and on 
by the Great Lakes to the land of promise. 
Pennsylvania had a system of canals, partially in use, and 
the rest in building, which would open up a route to the Ohio 
River at Pittsburgh. But engineers had looked the ground 
over, and gave it as their opinion that Baltimore was hedged 
in by insurmountable difficulties. Prophecies were made that 
soon ships would cease to come to Baltimore at all. And under 
this lowering commercial sky, Peter Cooper saw his Balti- 
more investments fading away into the ether. 
At this time the Manchester and Liverpool Railroad was in 
operation. The coaches and wagons were simply those in use 
on the roads, but with new tires that carried a flange to keep 
the wheel on the rail. It was found that a team of horses 
could draw double the load on a railroad that they could if the 
wheels of the vehicle were on the ground. 
The news was brought to America. Wooden rails were first 
tried, and then these were strengthened by nailing strap iron 
along the top. 

It was a great idea — build a railroad from Baltimore to the 
Ohio River, and thus compete with the Pennsylvania canals 
to the Ohio! 

In Eighteen Hundred and Twenty-seven the Baltimore and 



Ohio Railroad Company was formed. It was the first raibroad 
company in America. Peter Cooper bought shares to the 
extent of his ability. It was a life-and-death struggle. If the 
railroad was a success, Baltimore was saved, and Peter 
Cooper was a rich man, otherwise he was a bankrupt. 
Stephenson's "Rocket" in England was pulling three or four 
carriages at a speed of ten miles an hour, while a team of 
horses on the same track could only pull one carriage at the 
rate of six or seven miles an hoiir. 

The City of Baltimore and the State of Maryland were 
empowered to buy shares in the new transportation company. 
^ Thus we find government ownership of the first American 
railroad ^ ^ 

The Mayor of the City and the Governor of the State had 
heard of Peter Cooper's engine, which he said could be used 
for *4and-carriages," and they now importuned him to come 
to their rescue. 

Robert Fulton had already proved that the steamship was 
practicable ; but Fulton was n't interested in railroads. He 
maintained, as did most every one else, that the water route 
was the only safe and sure and economical way of trans- 
portation. And when the railroad was built from Albany to 
Schenectady the first idea was to have the engine tow canal- 
boats J^ J- 

Peter Cooper heard the wail of the Baltimoreans, and said, 
**I '11 knock an engine together in six weeks, that will pull 
carriages ten miles an hour and beat any canal-boat that 
ever collected barnacles." 



ETER COOPER went back from 
Baltimore to New York with a few 
.misgivings as to whether he had 
^not promised too much. 
The real fact was he had gotten a 
patent on his engine before he had 
put it to an actual test. 
He had made the engine, but now 
he must make a boiler in which 
to generate the steam to make the 
wheels go round. This boiler he 
made and riveted with his own 
hands. It stood upright and was as high as his shoulder. It 
had a furnace beneath. It contained no tubes, and the propo- 
sition was to fill it half full of water and then boil this water. 
^ It took three weeks to make the boiler. It was about as big as 
the tank in an average kitchen range. There were no water- 
gauges or steam-gauges. The engineer had to guess as to the 
pressure he was carrying. 

When the boiler was complete, the great difficulty was how to 
carry the steam from the boiler to the engine. There were no 
wrought-iron pipes then made or sold in America. Cooper 
took a couple of muskets and used the barrels for pipes to 
connect his boiler and engine. These were duly soldered into 
place. The engine and boiler were then placed on a small flat- 
top wagon and bolted down. The engine had a wheel which 
projected over the side, and an endless chain was run over 
the projecting hub of the wagon. 



Peter experimented and found that the water in the boiler 
would last one hour ; then the fire would have to be drawn, 
and the boiler cooled and refilled. 

He tried the engine and it worked, but there was no railroad 
upon which to try the wagon until the machine was taken 
down to Baltimore. A team was hitched to the wagon, and 
the drive was made to Baltimore in three days. 
Peter placed his wagon with its flange-wheels on the track 
and pushed it up and down along the rail. It fitted the track 
all right. He then went back to his hotel with the two boys 
who were helping him. After the boys were abed, he sneaked 
off in the darkness, filled up his boiler, screwed down the top, 
and fired up. 

It was a moment of intense excitement. 
He turned on the steam — the wheels revolved — then the 
thing stuck. He had a pike-pole and using this pushed him- 
self along for a few rods. The endless chain was working, and 
the machine was going — flying — almost as fast as a man 
could run. And Peter ran the machine back in the barn, went 
home and went to bed. He had succeeded. 
The next day he invited the President of the road and the 
Mayor of the City to ride with him. 

The machine had to be poled or pushed to start it, but it 
proved the principle. 

The following day a public exhibition was given. Volunteers 
were asked for, who wished to ride. Forty men and one 
woman responded. These rode on the engine and in a big 
coach attached behind. They covered the top of the coach and 


clung to the sides. A dozen men got hold and gave a good 
push and they were off ! 

The road was just thirteen miles long. The distance was made 
in one hour and twelve minutes. 

The fire was then drawn and the boiler refilled. Also, all of the 
passengers refilled, for whisky flowed free. 
Peter Cooper was ready to start back. He ordered every man 
to hold on to his hat. A push and a pull, all together, and they 
were off. 

They ran the thirteen miles back in just fifty-eight minutes. 
^ The engine was a success beyond the fondest hopes of 
Peter ^ ^ 

There were diflSiculties in the way, however. One was that the 
pulling only on one side caused a cramping of the flange on 
the other side against the rail. This was remedied by putting 
a wheel on both sides and running a chain on the two pro- 
jecting hubs. 

The pulling by hand to start was also criticized. 
Next the fact that the engine had to be shut down every hour 
for water was noted. Peter Cooper stopped the mouths of the 
carpers by calling attention to the fact that even a horse had 
to be watered. And as for giving a push on starting, it was a 
passenger's duty to collaborate with the engineer. 
Beside that, passengers get thirsty and hungry as well as 
horses, and want a little change. Peter Cooper assured the 
critics that the boiler could be refilled while a man was getting 
a drink and stretching his legs. 

The people who owned the stage-coach line that ran parallel 



with the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad made a lot of fun of 
Peter Cooper's teakettle. 

On one occasion they loosened a rail, so the thing ran into the 
ditch. For a time this sort of discouraged traffic, but there 
were others who prophesied that in a few years horses could 
not be given away. 

Finally, the owner of the stage-coach line challenged the 
railroad folks to race from Riley's Tavern to Baltimore, a 
distance of nine miles. The race was between a noted gray 
horse, famed for speed and endurance, and the teakettle. The 
road ran right alongside of the wagon route. In truth, it took 
up a part of the roadway, which was one cause of opposition. 
The race occurred on September Eighteenth, Eighteen Hun- 
dred and Thirty. Thousands of dollars were bet, and a throng 
of people lined the route from start to finish. The engine 
pulled but one coach, and had one passenger. The gray horse 
was hitched to a buggy that carried one man besides the 
driver J> ^ 

The engine led for five miles, when the boiler sprung a leak 
and stopped, the engineer in his anxiety getting on too much 

The horse won, and this proved to many people a fact which 
they had suspected and foretold, that the steam-engine for 
land-carriages was only a plaything. 

Farmers in that vicinity took heart and began again to 
raise horses. 




N Eighteen Hundred and Thirty- 
one, when Peter Cooper was forty 
years old, he was worth fifty 
thousand dollars; when he was 
forty-five he was worth a hundred 
thousand dollars; when he was 
fifty, he was worth over two hun- 
dred thousand dollars. He was one 
of the richest men of New York, 
and he was a man of influence. 
^ Had he centered on money- 
making, he might have become the 
richest man in America. 

He held political office that he might serve the people, not 
that he might serve a party or himself. 
In all deliberative bodies, the actual work is done by a few. A 
dozen men or less run Congress. 

For forty years Peter Cooper served the City of New York, and 
the State, and always to his own financial loss. 
He saw the last remains of the Indian Stockade removed 
from Manhattan Island. When he was elected alderman, the 
city was patrolled by night-watchmen, who made their 
rounds and cried the hour and "All *s Well!'* For five hours, 
from midnight until five o'clock in the morning, they walked 
and watched. They were paid a dollar a night, and the money 
was collected from the people who owned property on the 
streets that they patrolled, just as in country towns they 
sprinkle the streets in front of the residences owned by the 



men who subscribe. flPeter Cooper inaugurated a system of 
"public safety," or police protection. He also replaced the 
old volunteer fire department with a paid service ^ He 
was the first man to protest against the use of wells as a 
water-supply for a growing city. 

The first water-pipes used in New York City were bored logs ; 
he fought against these, and finally induced the city to use 
iron pipes. As there was no iron pipe at this time made in 
America, he inaugurated a company to cast pipe. Very 
naturally his motives in demanding iron pipes were assailed, 
but he stood his ground and made the pipes and sold them to 
the city rather than that the city should not have them. 
He was brave enough to place himself in a suspicious position, 
that the people might prosper. 

In Eighteen Hundred and Thirty, he organized **The Free 
School Society," to fight the division of the school funds 
among sectarian schools. The idea that any form of religion 
should be taught at public expense was abhorrent to him. 
He was denounced as an infidel and an enemy of society, but 
his purity of life and unselfish devotion to what he knew was 
right were his shield and defense. The fight was kept up from 
Eighteen Hundred and Thirty to Eighteen Hundred and 
Fifty-three, when it was fixed in the statute that **no fund 
raised by taxation should be provided or used for the support 
of any school in which any religious or sectarian doctrine or 
tenet is taught, inculcated or practised. " 
The Free School Society was then fused with the School 
Board, and ceased to exist as a separate institution. That the 



amalgamation was a plan to shelve Peter Cooper's secular 
ideas dawned upon him later. And that the struggle for a 
school free from superstition's taint was not completely won, 
Peter Cooper fully realized. 

But perhaps it is well that his fine optimism could not foresee 
the flavor of religious bigotry and superstition which would 
exist in our whole school system for many years. 
And the end is not yet. 

During his long service on the School Board of New York 
City, Peter Cooper worked out in his own mind an ideal of 
education, which he was unable to impress upon his fellow 
townsmen. No doubt their indifference and opposition tended 
to crystallize his own ideas. Blessed be difficulty ! 
The many lag behind — the few go on. And if a man's actions 
and thoughts outstrip the rabble, he surely should not com- 
plain because the rabble does not sympathize with him. 
His virtue lies in the very fact that he can do without popular 
support and push on alone. 

It will not do to say that Peter Cooper was exactly disgusted 
with the public-school system of New York, for he, more than 
any other one man, had evolved it and carried it forward 
from very meager beginnings. Democracy has great dis- 
advantages. Democracy is a safeguard against tyranny, but 
it often cramps and hinders the man of genuine initiative. If 
the entire public-school system of the state had been delegated 
to Peter Cooper in Eighteen Hundred and Fifty, he as sole 
commissioner could and would have set the world a pace in 
pedagogy ^ J> 


E T 


The contention of Disraeli that democracy means the rule of 
the worst has in it a basis of truth. Peter Cooper's appeals to 
his colleagues on the school board fell on idle ears. And so he 
decided to do the thing himself, and the extent to which he 
would do it was to be limited only by his fortune. 
Cooper Union was to be a model for every public school in 
America J' J^ 

HE block bounded by Third and 
Fourth Avenue and the Bowery 
was bought up by Peter Cooper, a 
lot at a time, with the idea of a 
model school in mind. When Peter 
Cooper bought the first lot there in 
Eighteen Hundred and Thirty-six, 
the site was at the extreme north 
limit of the city. Later, A. T. 
Stewart was to build his Business 
Palace near at hand. 
Cooper offered his block of land to 

the city, gratis, provided a school would be built according 

to his plans. 

His offers were smilingly pigeonholed. 

In Eighteen Hundred and Fifty-four, when Peter Cooper was 


sixty-one years old, he began the building of his model school 
on his own account. 

His business affairs had prospered, and besides the glue- 
factory he was making railroad-iron at Ringwood, New 
Jersey, and Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. 
These mills were very crude according to our present-day 
standards. But Peter Cooper believed the consumption of iron 
would increase. Bridges were then built almost entirely of 
wood. Peter Cooper built bridges, riveted together, of rolled 
iron "boards," as they were first called. But he found it 
difficult to compete with the wooden structures. 
When he began building Cooper Union, he found himself 
with a big stock of bridge-iron on hand for which there was 
no market. The excavations were already made for the 
foundations, when the idea came to Peter Cooper that he 
could utilize this bridge-iron in his school-building and thus 
get an absolutely fire-proof structure. 

The ability of Peter Cooper to adapt himself to new con- 
ditions, turning failure into success, is here well illustrated. 
^ Not until he had accumulated an overstock of bridge-iron 
did he think of using iron for the frames of buildings. It was 
the first structural use of iron to re-enforce stone and brick, in 
America jt ^ 

Cooper Union was nearly five years in building. A financial 
panic had set in, and business was at a standstill. But Peter 
did not cheapen his plan, and the idea of abandoning it never 
occurred to him. 

The land and building cost him six hundred and thirty 



thousand dollars and came near throwing him into bank- 
ruptcy. But business revived and he pulled through, to the 
loss of reputation of many good men who had persistently 
prophesied failure. 

Be it said to the credit of his family that the household, too, 
partook of the dream and lent their aid. 
Altogether, the assets of Cooper Union are now above two 
million dollars. 

The ideal man in the mind of Peter Cooper was Benjamin 
Franklin. He wanted to help the apprentice — the poor boy. He 
saw many young men dissipating their energies at saloons 
and other unprofitable places. If he could provide a place 
where these young men could find entertainment and op- 
portunity to improve their minds, it would be a great gain. 
Peter Cooper thought that we are educated through the sense 
of curiosity quite as much as in reading books. So Cooper 
Union provided a museum of waxworks and many strange, 
natural-history specimens. There was also an art-gallery, a 
collection of maps, statuary ; and a lecture-hall was placed 
in the basement of the building. Peter Cooper had once seen 
a panic occur in a hall located on a second story and the 
people fell over each other in a mass on the stairway. He 
said a panic was not likely to occur going upstairs. This hall 
is a beautiful and effective assembly-room, even yet. It seats 
nineteen hundred people, and the audience so surrounds the 
speaker that it does not impress one as being the vast 
auditorium which it is. 

Cooper Union has always been the home of free speech. 


Next to Faneuil Hall it is the most distinguished auditorium 
in America, from a historic standpoint. 
William Cullen Bryant, Edward Everett, Henry Ward Beecher , 
Wendell Phillips, and every great speaker of the time spoke 
here. Victoria WoodhuU brought much scandal on the devoted 
head of Peter Cooper when he allowed her to use the plat- 
form to ventilate her peculiar views. Peter Cooper met the 
criticism by inviting her to come back and speak again. 
She did so, being introduced by Theodore Tilton. 
Here came Lincoln, the gaunt and homely, and spoke before 
he was elected President. His "Cooper Union Speech" is a 
memorable document, although it was given without notes 
and afterwards written out by Lincoln, who seemed surprised 
that any one should care to read it. 

The speech given in Cooper Union by Robert G. IngersoU 
lifted him from the rank of a western lawyer to national 
prominence in a single day. Other men had criticized the 
Christian religion, but no man of power on a public platform 
had up to that time in America expressed his abhorrence and 
contempt for it. 

The reputation of IngersoU had preceded him. He had given 
his lecture in Peoria, then in Chicago, and now he made bold 
to ask Peter Cooper for permission to use the historic hall. 
Cooper responded with eagerness. There was talk of a 
mob when the papers announced an "infidel speech." 
The auspicious night came, and Peter Cooper introduced the 
speaker himself. He sat on the platform during the address, 
at times applauding vigorously. It was an epoch, but then 



Peter Cooper was an epoch-making man. flCooper Union is 
now conducted along the identical lines laid out by its founder. 
qit is a Free University, dedicated to the People. It has a 
yearly enrolment of over thirty-five hundred pupils. Only 
three Universities in America surpass it in numbers. Its 
courses are designed to cover the needs of practical, busy 
people. Art, architecture, engineering, business and chemis- 
try are its principal features. Its fine reading-room and 
library have a yearly attendance of a million visitors. The 
great hall is used almost every night in the year. 
And just remember that this has continued for fifty years jft 
When the building was built, there were no passenger- 
elevators in New York, or elsewhere. Peter Cooper's mechan- 
ical mind saw that higher buildings would demand mechanical 
lifts, and so he provided a special elevator-shaft. He saw his 
prophecy come true, and there is now an elevator in the place 
he provided. 

The demand now upon the building overtaxes its capacity. 
^ The influx of foreign population in New York City makes 
the needs of Cooper Union even more imperative than they 
were fifty years ago. So additional buildings are now under 
way, and with increased funds from various worthy and noble 
people. Cooper Union is taking a new lease of life and use- 
fulness ^ jt 

And into all the work there goes the unselfish devotion and 
the untiring spirit of Peter Cooper, apprentice, mechanic, 
inventor, business man, financier, philosopher and friend 
of humanity. 

THE FRA Magazine 

for August will contain an Appreciation of 
Elizabeth Cady Stanton by Alice Hubbard, with 
Cover Portrait by Gaspard, on Alexandra Japan 
Vellum ^^ Also several Special Articles on the 
Suffrage Subject by Writers of International 
Following. Folks who understand why women 
should have the ballot, and folks who do not, 
will alike derive much instruction and interest 
from this Number of THE FRA.QIn conjunc- 
tion with this Number, The Student, The 
Thinker, The Agitator should read Alice Hub- 
bard's Book— WOMAN'S WORK. This Book 
clearly explains "what line of action women 
should follow in order to gain the largest meas- 
ure of good for themselves and the world. A 
w^oman who has emancipated herself speaks. 

Woman's Work 

is printed in two colors on Boxmoor, with 
Special Initials by Dard Hunter, and bound in 
boards. Of an edition of forty thousand, thirty- 
eight thousand have already been sold for tw^o 
dollars per copy. G[ A SPECIAL OFFER of 
THE FRA Magazine for one year with a Two 
Dollar binding of ^Voman's W^ork — gratis — is 
made to those Good and Intellectual Souls who 
would help the Cause of Women. Two Dollars. 

The Roycrofters, East Aurora, New York 




Q Doubtless the most bea'utiful book ever issued by The Roy- 
crofters. Printed in a Special Style on Japan Vellum in two 
colors. Title-page after the Decretales of Saint Gregory, as 
done byjoanis Petit, at Venice, in Fifteen Hundred and Twenty- 
nine ^ Illustrated with actual photographic print ( not a re- 
production) by the Author ^ Bound in full Modeled Leather 
with Silk doublure and marbled fly-leaves. Boxed in a velvet- 
lined, hand-carved, mahogany case with hand-hammered, 
copper clasp and hinges. Price $200.00 



QWe have only One Copy of this lovely little Essay ^ It is 
Number Fifty-three, the last unsold of a limited edition of one 
hundred, numbered and signed by Elbert Hubbard ^ Printed 
from the face of Elzevir Type (Stevenson's favorite font) on 
Japan Vellum Ji Specially bound in full Levant with a 
unique design in Gold and Ivory hand-tooled into the grain. 
Price $50.00 



Q Bound in marble and three-quarters Levant ^ Title and 
original design on back in Gold. Printed on Roycroft Hand- 
made Paper, hand-illumined with Special Initials. Paragraph- 
marks and ornaments inserted by hand in color, after the 
Sixteenth Century Style. Numbered and signed, blessed and 
boxed by the Pastor. Price $25,00 




Q Printed on Real Vellum from a new font of Cheltenham 
Type ^ Forty beautiful free-hand illuminations, ornamental 
initials. Bound in full Levant. Hand-tooled in Gold, on front 
and back and inside covers. Hand-made Morocco Case. Tall 
Copy, the only one of its kind in the world. Price . . $250.00 

ESSAYS OF ELIA, by charles lamb 

Q No Library can be complete without this book. Perhaps your 
Copy is not so good as it might be. We have one or two printed 
throughout in two colors on Whatman, with extra illuminations 
done by hand. Bound in full Levant, title and cover-design in 
Gold ^ Snugly boxed in a handsome case lined with Korean 
Velvet. Price $100.00 


by William Shakespeare, or was it Francis Bacon ? This book 
is bound in Alicia and suljstantial boards with title stamped in 
Gold. Printed from a sharp new font of Bruce Roman, a very 
suitable type, on Italian Hand-made Paper,Title-page illumined. 
A very great Hamlet indeed. Price $7.50 



QOn Roycroft Hand-made Paper in large, readable Type. 
Frontispiece, a dry-point etching of the Author by Otto 
Schneider. Scolii and Colophon in color. Bound in Boards and 
Buckram. Title in Gold. Price $2.00 

prior to printing 

T^bere was a very 
^^ little difference 
between Letters & 
Hrt. C Nearly all 
6ood Cdork in 
eitber brancb was 
done by Cloistered 
jVIonks in quiet 
courts wbere Cime 
was indeed an Il- 
lusion* <L Coday 
tbe band-work of 
tbese early JMonas- 
teries bas attained 
an almost super- 
stitious value — for 
sucb is tbe result 
of Infinite Care, 
Skill and faitbful 
Hpplication. CCde 
believe tbere are 
still many people, 
perfectly sane, wbo 
resent JVIacbine- 
made Hrt, wbo con- 
sider, tbe Classic 

Cday tbe Better. 
Cf or tbese, fra 
Baldy, a man witb 
tbe J^onastic Im- 
pulse, of Simple 
Cdays and 6reat 
patience, does occa- 
sional engrossing 
on 7apan Vellum. 
<LIf you do not 
burry bim be will 
design by band, as 
did tbe jVIonks of 
eid. Resolutions, 
JMottoes, Book- 
plates, f^avorite 
poems. Diplomas, 
JMemorial Cablets 
and sucb like, con- 
scientiously con- 
forming to any 
color Conception 
tbat is desired. 
Cdrite if interested. 
Cbe Roycrof ters, 
east Hurora, fi, Y* 



EST is val 


able only so 
far as it is a 

contrast Pursued as an 
end it becomes a most 

pitiable condition^ — 




E are always 
that our days 

are few^ and acting as 
thottgh there would be 

no end of them*— s 


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iWus^ical Contention 

August Twenty-third to September First 

jARLY last September, Professor S. L. Barrow- 
Clough, Master Musician of Winnipeg, and his 
sixty-one bonnie, blue-eyed Band Boys paid us 
a visit here in East Aurora. QOut on the Peri- 
style, underneath an Orange Moon, surrounded 
by giant trees, these men played to the greatest audiences 
ever assembled in East Aurora. QOver three thousand 
people, Royal, Loyal Roycrofters, gathered to greet the 
Winnipeg Band «^ They perched on the Peristyle, they 
carried benches down around the Fountain in the Court, 
they overflowed the lawns, clustered about the Well Sweep 
and swarmed the Stone Walls and Tree Seats in the 
Orchard like Locusts «5^ Such Music ! C^And now, Barrow- 
Clough and his Premier Performers are coming back. They 
have accepted our Invitation ; they will bring their Instru- 
ments and spend a week. Q Other Musicians, Soloists, 
Vocalists and Troupes are coming too, and for a time the 
Home of The Roycrofters will be transformed into a Garden 
of Harmony. HSo now then we announce a Congress of 
Musicians, August Twenty-third to September First ^ 
There is a place at the Roycroft Festal Board for every 
lover of Sweet Sounds. Only, if you are coming you had 
better let us know a bit beforehand «^ jt .^ ^ ^ ^ 

Wbt JRopcrof terg, €a«t aiurora, J5eto |?otfe 


Inspirational Little Journeys 

^ Progressive Educators consider a complete 
set of Little Journeys in many ways superior 
to a four years' Course in College English. 
Others value their condensed Historical 
teachings; while the yield to the literary 
aspirant is style in diction and virility. ^ Free 
from the Cumbersome and Conventional — 
Little Journeys pulse with interest. Subjects : 

Vol. 6. Morris, Browning, Tennyson, Bums, Milton, 

Vol. 7. Macaulay, Byron, Addison, Southey, Coleridge, 

Vol. 8. Wagner, Paganini, Chopin, Mozart, Bach, 

Vol. 9. Liszt, Beethoven, Handel, Verdi, Schumann, 

Vol. 10. Raphael, Leonardo, Botticelli, Thorwaldsen, 

Gainsborough, Velasquez. 
Vol. 11. Corot, Correggio, Bellini, Cellini, Abbey, 

Vol. 12. Pericles, Anthony, Savonarola, Luther, Burke, 

Vol. 13. Marat, Ingersoll, Patrick Henry, Starr King, 

Beecher, Phillips, 
Vol. 14. Socrates, Aristotle, Spinoza, Seneca, Aurelius, 

Vol. 15. Kant, Comte, Voltaire, Spencer, Schopenhauer, 



Vol. 16. Copernicus, Newton, Herschel, Galileo> 
Humboldt, Darwin. 

Vol. 17. Haeckel, Linnaeus, Huxley, Tyndall, Wallace, 

Vol. 18. Josiah and Sarah Wedgwood, William Godwin 
and Mary Wollstonecraft, Dante and Beatrice, 
John Stuart Mill and Harriet Taylor, Pamell 
and Kitty O'Shea, Petrarch and Laura. 

Vol. 19. Dante Gabriel Rossetti and Elizabeth Siddal, 
Balzac and Madame Hanska, Fenelon and 
Madame Guyon, Ferdinand Lassalle and Helen 
von Donniges, Lord Nelson and Lady Hamilton, 
Robert Louis Stevenson and Fannie Osbourne. 

Vol. 20. John Wesley, Henry George, Garibaldi, Richard 
Cobden, Thomas Paine, John Knox. 

Vol. 21. John Bright, Bradlaugh, Theodore Parker, 
Oliver Cromwell, Anne Hutchinson, Jean 
Jacques Rousseau. 

Vol. 22. Moses, Confucius, Pythagoras, Plato, King 
Alfred, Friedrich Froebel. 

Vol. 23. Booker T. Washington, Thomas Arnold, 
Erasmus, H3rpatia, St. Benedict, Mary Baker 

The above-named Little Journeys have been 
reprinted on Italian Hand-made paper, and 
Bound artfully in Limp leather, silk-lined, gilt 
top, with silk marker. Six Little Journeys in 
each Volume — some few are illumined by 
hand. THREE DOLLARS the volume. 

East Aurora, Erie County, New York 

Poets, like painters thus unskilled to trace 

The naked nature and the living grace. 

With gold and jewels cover every part, 

And hide w^ith ornaments their want of art.— Pope 

Roycroft Furniture 



'HE men who make 
Roycroft Furniture 
do not cover their skill 
with ornamentation.They 
do not permit Rococo 
finishes or Rocaille de- 
signs to clutter the sur- 
face of their work. Beds, 
Bookcases and Tables 
made by East Aurora 
Craftsmen never border 
on the Baroque, nor do 
the chairs and benches 
creak beneath the Seats 
of the Mighty. Q Sturdy 
and Strong as the Artists 
who liberate them from 
the log, products of our 
Wood Shop please those 
people who see beauty in 
utility and service. Roy- 
croft Furniture presages a day when Commonsense shall 
hold sway in house decoration — when only the thmgs are 
considered Best, whose Makers dedicated their work to 
Time. Catalogue on Application jt ji ,^ j» jt ^ ^ ^ 

THE ROYCROFTERS, East Aurora, N. Y. 




Andrew Carnegie 



Sg IE QE52ZSIKH ag §g 


I CONGRATULATE poor young men upon being born to that 
ancient and honorable degree which renders it necessary that they 
should devote themselves to hard work. — ANDREW CARNEGIE. 




HE fact that Andrew Carnegie is a 
Scotsman, so far as I know, has 
never been refuted nor denied. 
Scotland is a wonderful country 
in which to slip the human 
product. Then when this product 
is transplanted to a more sunshiny 
soil we sometimes get a world- 
beater ^ J' 

Scotland is a good country to be 
born in; and it is a good country 
to get out of; and at times it may 
be a good country to go back to. 

I once attended a dinner given to James Barrie in London. 
Q One of the speakers sprung the usual joke about how when 
the Scotch leave Scotland they never go back. When Barrie 
arose to reply he said : " Perhaps it is true that the Scotch, 
when they leave their native land, seldom return. If so, there 
is surely precedent. In truth. Englishmen have been known 
to go to Scotland, and never return. Once there was quite a 
company of Englishmen went to Scotland and they never 
returned. The place where they went was Bannockbum." 
q In literature Scotland has exceeded her quota. From Adam 
Smith, with his deathless "Wealth of Nations," and Tammas, 
the Techy Titan, with his "French Revolution, " to Bobbie 
Bums and Robert Louis the Well-beloved, we have a people 
who have been saying things and doing things, since John 
Knox made pastoral calls on Mary Queen of Scots, and saw 
the devil's tail behind her chair. 

Dr. Johnson pretended to hate the Scotch, but he lives for us 
only because he was well Boswellized by a Scotchman. And 
now nobody knows just how much of Boswell is Dr. Johnson 


ANDREW and how much is Boswell. ^What Connecticut has done 
CARNEGIE for New England, Scotland did for Great Britain. 

The Scotch gave us the iron ship, the lamp-chimney, the 
telephone j^ jfc 

Also, they supplied us Presbyterianism. And this being true, 
they also supplied the antidote in David Hume. 
We have been told that it is necessary to agree with a Scots- 
man or else kill him. But this is a left-handed libel, like unto 
the statement that the reason the Scotch cling to breeks is 
because the breeks have no pockets, and when the drinks are 
mentioned Sandy fumbles for siller, but is never able to find 
the price, and so lets some one else foot the bill. 
Another bit of classic persiflage is to the effect that there are 
no Jews in Scotland, because they could no more exist there 
than they could in New Hampshire, and this for a like reason 
— they find competition too severe. 

The canny Scot with his beautiful ** nearness" lives in legend 
and story in a thousand forms. The pain a Scotsman suffers 
on having to part with a shilling is pictured by Ian McLaren 
and Sir Walter. Then came Christopher North and Dr. John 
Brown with deathless Scotch stories of sacrifice and unsel- 
fishness that shame the world, and secure the tribute of our 
tears J^ ^ 

To speak of the Scotch as having certain exclusive character- 
istics is to be a mental mollycoddle. 

As a people they have all the characteristics that make strong 
men and women, and they have them, plus. The Scotch supply 
us the eternal paradox. Against the tales of money meanness 
and miserly instincts, we have Andrew Carnegie, who has 
given away more money in noble causes than any other man 
who has ever lived since history began. 
The Scotch stand in popular estimate for religious bigotry, 
yet the offense of Andrew Carnegie to a vast number of 
people is his liberal attitude of mind in all matters pertaining 

to religion. ^ Then the Scotch are supposed to be a pugna- ANDREW 
cious, quarrelsome and fighting people, but here is a man CARNEGIE 
who has made his name known as the symbol of disarma- 
ment and international peace. 

In the list of twelve great business men that comprise the 
present series of Little Journeys, we have, by a curious coin- 
cidence, three Scotsmen ; James Oliver, Philip D. Armour and 
Andrew Carnegie. 

These three men were each the very antithesis of dogmatists 
and sectarians. They respected all religions, but had implicit 
faith in none. All were learners; all were men of peace; all 
had a firm hold on the plain, old, simple virtues which can not 
be waived when you make up your formula for a man. They 
were industrious, systematic, economical, persistent and 
physically sound. 

If there is any secret in the success of the Scotch it lies in the 
fact that they are such good animals. 
The basis of life is physical. 

The climate of Scotland makes for a sturdy manhood that 
pays cash and seldom apologizes for being on earth. 
Unlike James Oliver and Philip Armour, Andrew Carnegie is 
small in stature. He belongs to the type of big little men, of 
which Napoleon, Aaron Burr, Alexander Hamilton and 
General Grant are examples — deep-chested, strong-jawed, 
well-poised big little men who wear the crowns of their heads 
high and their chins in. These are good men to agree with. 
^ They carry no excess baggage. They travel light. They can 
change their minds and change their plans easily. Such men 
take charge of things by a sort of divine right. 


ANDREW Ippyil ^xy ilSr^RT^^^^^^ CARNEGIEZwas born in 
CARNEGIE kfs/WlJs*^LK/ilLfv^ decent poverty at Dunfermline in 

fthe year Eighteen Hundred and 

His father was a weaver by trade. 
This was in the day of the hand- 
loom. There were four damask- 
looms in the Carnegie house, 
worked by the family and appren- 
tices jt ^ 

There was no ring-up clock, and 
no walking delegates. 
When business was good these looms sang their merry tunes 
far into the night. When business was dull, perhaps one loom 
echoed its tired solo. 

Then there came a time when there was no work ; hopeless 
melancholy settled on the little household, and drawn, anxious 
faces looked into other faces from which hope had fled. 
Steam was coming in, and the factories were starving out the 
roycrofters. It is hard to change — in order to change your 
mind you must change your environment. 
The merchants used to buy their materials and take them to 
the weaver, and tell him how they wanted the cloth made. 
^ The weaver never thought that he could get up a new 
pattern, buy materials and devise a scheme whereby one man 
could tend four looms — or fourteen — and advertise his 
product, so the consumer would demand it, and thus force 
the merchant to buy. 

Aye, and if that did n't work, the whole blooming bunch of 
middlemen who batten and fatten between the factory and 
family could be eliminated, and the arrogant retailer, whole- 
saler, factor and agent be placed on the retired list through 
the Mail-order Plan. Or, aye again, the consumers' wants 
could be anticipated as they are by the Standard Oil Company 

and the gentlemanly salesman, psychic in his instincts, would ANDREW 
be at the door in answer to your sincere desire, uttered or CARNEGIE 
unexpressed J> J^ 

When the times changed Carnegie the Elder was undone. A 
few years later and his son, Andy, could have shown him 
fifty-seven ways by which the consumer could be reached. 
^ Andy would have known only one defeat, and that would 
have come when all the consumers were dead and ceased to 
consume. When Carnegie the Elder quit the loom, the con- 
sumers were using more cloth than ever, but the goods were 
being made in a new way. ** Hunger is the first incentive to 
migration, " says Adam Smith. 

Hunger and danger in right proportion are good things. 
It is a great idea for a woman who would give to the world 
superior sons, to marry a man without too much ambition. If 
too much is done for a woman she will never do much for 
herself. This proves that she is a human being, whether she 
can vote or not. 

Hunger, hardship, deprivation breed big virtues. Before 
deeds are born they are merely thoughts or aspirations. The 
desire to better her condition, and the struggle with unkind 
fate on behalf of her children, often is the heritage of mother 
to son. The mother endows the child with a tendency — a 
great moral tendency — a reaching out towards a success 
which she has never seen, as planet responds to the attraction 
of planet. And the things she dreamed her child grown to 
manhood makes come true. Temperance fanatics are often 
the offspring of drunken parents. Shiftless fathers breed 
financiers ^ jt 
We are taught by antithesis. 

Andrew Carnegie is the son of his mother. When the looms 
stopped and the piteous voice of the father said, "Andy, we 
have no work," the mother lifted up her voice and sang one 
of the songs of Zion. There were always morning prayers. 


ANDREW fl When there was no work, the father would have forgotten 
CARNEGIE the prayers, because there was nothing to be thankful for, 
and prayer would n't stop the steam-factory. 
*' What's the use!" was the motto of Carnegie the Elder. 
qThe mother led the prayers just the same. There was a 
reading from the Bible. Then each one present responded 
with a verse of Scripture. Legend says that little Andy, once, 
at seven years of age, when it came his turn to give a verse 
from the Bible, handed in this: **Let every tub stand on its 
own bottom." But as the quotation was not exactly accept- 
able, he tried again with this: **Take care of the pence and 
the pounds will take care of themselves." Thus do we see 
that the orphic habit was already beginning to germinate. 
^ Before Andrew Carnegie was ten years old he had evolved a 
beautiful hatred of kings, princes and all hereditary titles. 
^ There was only one nobility for him, and that was the 
nobility of honest effort. To live off another's labor was to 
him a sin. To eat and not earn was a crime. These sterling 
truths were the inheritance of mother to son. And these 
convictions Andrew Carnegie still holds and has firmly held 
since childhood's days. 

The other day in reading a book on military tactics, I came 
across this: "An army has but two duties to perform, one is 
to fight the enemy and the other is to evade the enemy. " 
Which duty is the more important the writer did not say. 
^ So let that pass. There are two ways of dealing with misery. 
One is to stay and fight the demon to a finish, and the other 
way is to beat a hasty and honorable retreat. 
**There is no work." 

**Then we will go where work is," said the mother of a 
multi-millionaire to be. 

The furniture went to pay the grocer. The looms were sold 
for a song. The debts were paid, and there was enough, with 
the contribution of a ten-pound note by a fond uncle, to buy 

passage to New York for the father, mother, Thomas and ANDREW 
Andrew. It was the year Eighteen Hundred and Forty-eight. CARNEGIE 
Thomas was sixteen, and Andrew was eleven. Tom was more 
handsome than Andy, but Andy had the most to say. 
The Carnegies came to Pittsburgh, because the mother's two 
sisters from Dunfermline were in Pittsburgh, and they 
had always gotten enough to eat. Then the sound of the 
name was good, and to this day Andrew Carnegie spells the 
final syllable "burgh," and pronounces it with a loving oat- 
meal burr. 

It was seven weeks in a sailing-ship to New York, and one 
week to Pittsburgh by rail and raging canal. 
The land of promise proved all that had been promised. 
The Carnegies wanted jobs — they did not wait to accept 
situations. The father found a place in a cotton-mill at a 
dollar and a half a day. 

Andy slipped in as bobbin-boy and got one dollar and twenty 
cents a week. Five shillings a week, all his own — to be laid 
in his mother's lap each Saturday night — spelled paradise. 
^ He was helping to support the household ! To know you are 
useful, and realize that you are needed, is a great stimulus to 
growth. Never again did the Carnegies hear that muffled 
groan, ** There is no work!" 
The synonym of the word ** Carnegie" is work. 
In a year little Andy had graduated to the boiler-room at 
two dollars a week. It was twelve hours a day, a constant 
watching of water-gauges, and a feeling of bearings for 

Andy used to awaken the family in the dead of the night by 
roaring out in hot-mush accents, "The boiler, it ha' busted!" 
^ And being shaken into wakefulness the boy was much re- 
lieved to know that it was only a horrid dream, and the 
factory had not been blown into kingdom come because a wee 
laddie, red-headed and freckled, had nodded at his work. 


ANDREW **A rolling stone gathers no moss." flThis is true. However, 
CARNEGIE it is also true that if it does not gather moss, it may acquire 
polish Ji jt 

Andrew Carnegie from boyhood had the habit of using his 
head as well as his hands. The two years in the boiler and 
engine room of a little factory did him a lot of good. 
But when fourteen he firmly felt that he had to get out 
toward the sunlight, just as potatoes in a dark cellar will 
at springtime send their sprouts reaching out towards the 
windows J^ J^ 

In Pittsburgh at this time was a young man by the name of 
Douglass Reid, who was born in Edinburgh. On Sunday 
afternoon, Reid used to visit the Carnegies and talk about old 
times and new. Reid was an expert telegraph-operator, and 
afterwards wrote ** A History of the Telegraph. " The more he 
saw of Andy the more sure he was that the lad could learn 
the dot and dash, and be an honor to the profession. 
The Carnegies had never had a telegraph message come to 
them, and did n*t want one, for folks only get messages when 
some one is dead. 

The way you learned **the key" then was to start in as 
messenger, and when there were no messages, to hang 
around the office and pick up the mystery by induction. 
q One great drawback to acting as messenger was that Andy 
did not know the streets. So he started in memorizing the 
names of all the business firms on Penn Avenue, up one side 
and down the other. Then he tackled Liberty Street, Smith- 
field Street and Fifth Avenue. At home nights, he would shut 
his eyes and call the names until the household cried for mercy 
and shrieked, "Hold — enough!" 

Before the operators got around in the morning, the boys 
used the keys, calling up other boys up and down the line. 
^ Needless to say, young Andy did n't spend all of his time 
on the streets. A substitute operator one day was needed and 


Andy volunteered to fill the place. He filled it so well that the ANDREW | 
regular man, who was a bit irregular in his habits, was given CARNEGIE 
a permanent vacation. 

At this time all of the telegraph business was taken care of 
from the railroad-oflces, just as it is now in most villages. 
^ "Who is the sandy, freckled one?" once asked Thomas 
A. Scott, Superintendent of the Pittsburgh Division of the 
Pennsylvania Railroad. 

"He*s a Scot from Scotland, and his name is Carnegie," 
was the answer. 

The play on words pleased Mr. Scott. He got into the habit 
of sending his messages by young Carnegie. And when one 
day he discovered the Scotch lad spoke of him as "Tomscot" 
over the wire, the economy of the proceeding so pleased him 
that he took Andy into his personal service at a raise of ten 
dollars a month. About this time there came a sleet-storm 
which carried down the wires. 
Volunteers who could climb were in demand. 
Young Carnegie's work indoors had reduced his physical 
powers, so the climbing was beyond his ability. It was a 
pivotal point. Had he been able to climb he might have 
evolved into a boss of a construction-gang. As it was he stuck 
to his desk, and eventually owned the telegraph-line. 
Thus did he prove Darwin's dictum that we are evolved by 
our weakness quite as much as through our strength. 
Daniel Webster once said that the great disadvantage in the 
practice of law is that the better you do your work, the 
more diflSicult are the cases that come to you. 
It is the same in railroading — or anything else, for that matter. 
fl Cheap men can take care of the cheap jobs. 
The reward for all good work is not rest, but more work, and 
harder work. Thomas A. Scott was a man of immense 
initiative, and he was also an immense joker. His was the 
restless, tireless, ambitious nature which makes up the com- 


ANDREW posite that we call the American Spirit. ^'*Tomscot" had 
CARNEGIE the initiative which not only suggests the thing, but carries 
it through to completion. 

Andrew Carnegie very early in life developed the same 
characteristics J> jt 

He never made hasty and ill-digested suggestions and then 
left them to others to carry out. 

When young Carnegie, just turned into his twenties, became 
private secretary to Thomas A. Scott, he was getting along as 
well, I thank you, as could be expected. 
And nobody was more delighted than Andy*s mother — not 
even Andy himself. And most of Andy's joy in his promotions 
came from the pleasure which his mother found in his 
advancement. It was quite lover-like, the way Andy would 
talk it all over with her. 

'*I know what you are working for," once said Scott to his 
secretary. ** You want my job." 

** And I *11 have it as sure as life," replied Andy, as he went 
right along with his work, 
'*You certainly will," said Scott. And it was so. 


HEN Thomas A. Scott became ANDREW 
President of the Pennsylvania CARNEGIE 
Railroad, Andrew Carnegie became 
Superintendent of the Pittsburgh 
Division, as a matter of course. 
His salary was fifteen hundred dol- 
lars a year. And this was the top- 
most turret of the tower : it was as 
far as the ambition of either the 
mother or the young man could 
fly. But the end was not yet. 
Thomas Alexander Scott was born 
at the forgotten hamlet of London, Franklin County, Penn- 
sylvania. London, Pennsylvania, did not flourish as its 
founders had expected. Behold the folly of giving big names 
to little things ! Caesar Augustus Jones used to be the town 
fool of East Aurora, until he was crowded to the wall by 
Oliver Cromwell Robinson. 

Scott walked out of his native village — a lad of ten who 
warmed his feet on October mornings where the cows had 
lain down. Later he came back and bought the county. 
Scott was a graduate of the University of Hard Knocks, and 
he also took several post-graduate courses. He received 
knocks all his life — and gave them. 

His parents had come from bonny Scotland, and it was a joke 
along the whole line of the Pennsylvania Railroad that a man 
with red hair and a hot-mush brogue could always get a job 
by shouting **hoot, moni" at "Tomscot.** 
Scott loved Andy as well, probably, as he ever loved any one 
outside of his own family. He loved him because he was 
Scotch, and he loved him because he rounded up every task 
that he attempted. He loved him because he smiled at 
difficulty ; and he loved him because he never talked back and 
said, **We never did it that way before." 


ANDREW In Eighteen Hundred and Sixty-one, President Lincoln made 

CARNEGIE Simon Cameron, of Pennsylvania, Secretary of War. Cameron 

was awfully Scotch, although I believe he was accidentally 

born in America. Cameron in time made Thomas A. Scott 

Assistant Secretary of War. 

And Thomas A. Scott made Andrew Carnegie Superintendent 
of United States Railways and Telegraphs. Lincoln once 
said that it was the most difficult and exacting position in 
the whole government service. 

The bent of the minds of both Scott and Carnegie was towards 
construction and peace. 

They were builders, financiers and diplomats. 
They accepted government position as a duty and they did 
their work nobly and well. But if these men had had their way 
there would have been no war. They would have bought the 
slaves and paid for them, and at a price which we have paid 
out for pensions and interest on the war debt every year 
since. They would have organized the South on an industrial 
basis and made it blossom like the rose, instead of stripping 
it and starving it into a dogged submission. 
The lessons Carnegie learned in war-time burned deep into 
his soul, and helped to make him as he is today, the foremost 
exponent of international disarmament in the world. 
The game of finance Carnegie learned from Scott, his foster- 
father Ji> ^ 

When but a salaried clerk Carnegie was once called into 
Scott's office. **Andy, I know where you can buy ten shares 
of Adams* Express stock — you better get it I" 
**But I have no money," said Andy. 
**Then go out and borrow some!" 

And Andy did, the mother mortgaging their little home to 
raise the money— she never failed her Andy. 
He bought the stock at par. It was worth a third more, and 
paid dividends ** every few minutes," to use the phrase of 

Scott. There is a suspicion that Scott threw this little block of ANDREW 
stock in the way of Andy on purpose. CARNEGIE 

It was an object-lesson in finance. Scott taught by indirection 
and did good by stealth. 

When Carnegie helped to organize the Woodruff Sleeping Car 
Company, which later was absorbed by the Pullman Com- 
pany, he was well out on the highway to fortune. Next came 
investments in oil-lands, and Andrew Carnegie, twenty-seven 
years of age, sold his oil interests for a decently few hundred 
thousand dollars. 

At this time all of the bridges on the Pennsylvania Railroad 
were made of wood. It was a wooded country, and the natural 
thing was to use the material at hand. 
But there were fires, accidents, washouts, and the prophetic 
vision of Andrew Carnegie foresaw a time when all railroad- 
bridges would be made of iron. 

He organized the Keystone Bridge Works, and took a con- 
tract to build a railroad-bridge across the Ohio River. 
The work was a'success, and practically the Keystone Bridge 
Works was without a competitor in America. But America 
was buying most of her iron in Birmingham. 
In Eighteen Hundred and Sixty-eight, Andrew Carnegie made 
a trip to Europe, taking his mother with him. He was then 
thirty-one years old and a man of recognized worth and 
power. The pride of the mother in her son was modest yet 
profound, and his regard for her judgment, even in bridge- 
building and railroad affairs, was sincere and earnest. 
Besides, she was a good listener, and by explaining his plans to 
his mother, Andy got them straight in his own mind. 
The trip to Europe was for the double /purpose of seeing 
whether old Dunfermline was really the delightful spot that 
memory pictured, and of getting the latest points in bridge- 
building and iron-making. 

Timber was scarce in England and iroH bridges and iron boats 


ANDREW were coming as an actual necessity. ^ Sir Henry Bessemer 
CARNEGIE had invented his process of blowing a blast of cold air 
through the molten metal and thus converting iron into 
steel. The plan was simple, easy and effective. 
The distinguishing feature of Andrew Carnegie's mind has 
always been his ability to put salt on the tail of an idea. 
He came back from England with the Bessemer process well 
outlined in his square red head. Others had put the invention 
through the experimental stage — he waited. That shows your 
good railroad man. Let your inventors invent — most of their 
inventions are worthless — when the thing is right we will 
take it on. 
• The Carnegie fortune owes its secret to the Bessemer steel 
rail. The fish-plate instead of the frog, and the steel rail in 
place of the good old snake-head! "The song of the rail** 
died out to a low continuous hum when Carnegie began 
making steel rails and showed the section-hands how to 
bolt them together as one. 

Andrew Carnegie was a practical railroad man. He knew the 
buyers of supplies and he knew how to convince them that 
they needed his product. 

Manufacturing is a matter of formula, but salesmanship is 
genius. Moreover, to get the money to equip great factories 
is genius, and up to the nineties the Carnegie Mills were 
immense borrowers of capital. 

Our socialistic friends sometimes criticize Andrew Carnegie 
for making the vast amount of money which he has. 
We can't swear a halibi for him, and so my excuse for the 
man is this : He never knew it was loaded — it was largely 
accidental. In truth he could n*t help making the money. 
fl Fate forced it on him. 

He has played this game of business for all there was in him. 
^ And he has played it according to the rules. Carnegie has 
never been a speculator. He is no gambler. He never bought 

a share of stock on margin in his life. The only thing he has ANDREW 

ever bet on has been his ability to execute. QHe has been a CARNEGIE 

creator and a builder. 

That his efforts should have brought him this tremendous 

harvest of dolodocci is a surprise to him. 

He knew there would be a return, but the size of the return no 

living man was able to foresee or foretell. 

Andrew Carnegie has acted on the times, and the times have 

acted on him. He is a product — a child, if you please — of 

Opportunity and Divine Energy. 

HEN James Anderson, of Allegheny, 
Pennsylvania, stage-coach boss 
and ironmaster, about the year 
Eighteen Hundred and Fifty threw 
open his library to the public, he 
did a great thing. 
Anderson owned four or five 
hundred books. Any one who 
wanted to read these books was 
welcome to do so. Especially were 
the boys made welcome. 
Anderson did not know what a 
portentous thing he was doing — nobody does when he does 
a big thing. Actions bear fruit — sometimes. 
And into Anderson's library, one Sunday afternoon, walked a 
diffident, wee Scotch laddie, who worked in a boiler-room all 
the week. *' Where would you like to begin?" asked Mr. 
Anderson, kindly. And the boy answered, as another boy by 
the name of Thomas A. Edison answered on a like occa- 
sion, "If you please, I '11 begin here." And he pointed to the 


ANDREW end of a shelf. And he read through that library, a shelf at a 
CARNEGIE time. He got the library habit. 

Andrew Carnegie has given away two thousand libraries. 
^ The first library built by Mr. Carnegie was in Eighteen 
Hundred and Eighty-seven, at Braddock, Pennsylvania. This 
was for the benefit, primarily, of the employees of the 
Carnegie Steel Works. 

In Eighteen Hundred and Eighty-nine, it was suggested that 
the city of Allegheny was in need of a library, quite as much 
as was Braddock. 

Mr. Carnegie proposed to build a library, art-gallery and 
music-hall combined, at a cost of three hundred thousand 
dollars, provided the city would supply the site, and agree to 
raise fifteen thousand dollars a year for maintenance. 
The offer was accepted and the building built, but at a cost of 
nearly one hundred thousand dollars more than was expected. 
^ Yet Mr. Carnegie did not complain. To show that his heart 
was with the venture, he also presented a ten-thousand-dollar 
organ for the hall. 

It was a first attempt, but the "North Side Library" is a 
model of beauty and convenience today. 
The way in which the people of Allegheny awakened, 
responded, and availed themselves of the benefits to be 
obtained from the Carnegie Library at Allegheny was most 
gratifying. The place was formally dedicated on February 
Thirteenth, Eighteen Hundred and Ninety. 
President Harrison was present and made an address. 
The music for the occasion was supplied by ** Young Dam- 
rosch" and his orchestra. 

Leopold Damrosch, the noted leader, had died only a few years 
before, and his son Walter had taken up his work. 
The manly ways of ** Young Damrosch" and his superb skill 
as a conductor made an impression on Mr. Carnegie then 
and there that bore speedy fruit. 

In Eighteen Hundred and Ninety-one, Mr. Carnegie built the ANDREW 
Carnegie Music Hall at Fifty-seventh Street and Seventh CARNEGIE 
Avenue in New York, especially with Walter Damrosch and 
the Damrosch needs in mind. 

I have spoken in this hall a score and more of times, and I 
never stand upon its spacious platform but that I think with 
admiration of the ironmaster who had the courage to back 
with two million dollars his faith in the musical appreciation 
of New York City. 

It is good to know that the prophetic business instincts of Mr. 
Carnegie did not here play him false. The various offices and 
studios connected with the splendid auditorium were quickly 
rented and the investment has paid a fair return from the 
first. When it was built it was the noblest auditorium in 
America. One of its chief benefits has been to show the 
people of America that such a building will pay. For one 
thing, it gave certain Western capitalists heart to erect the 
Fine Arts Building in Chicago. 

And now in a dozen cities of the United States there are great 
auditoriums where big events — musical and oratorical — 
bring the people together in a way that enlarges their spiritual 
horizon. Andrew Carnegie has ever had a passion for music. 
At Skibo Castle the meals are announced by bagpipe J> Of 
course I admit that whether the bagpipe is a musical instru- 
ment or not is a matter of argument, for just what constitutes 
music my Irish friend, George Bernard Shaw, says is a point 
of view. 

Andrew Carnegie has given the musical interests of America 
an immense impulse. His presentation of pipe-organs to 
churches, schools and halls bids fair to revive the age of 
Sebastian Bach. ** Music helps us to get rid of our whims, 
prejudices and petty notions, " says Andrew Carnegie. 
The famous Pittsburgh Orchestra was first made possible by 
his encouragement, and without Carnegie we would have had 


ANDREW no Damrosch, or at least a different Damrosch. ^From 
CARNEGIE almost its inauguration, Mr. Carnegie has been President of 
the New York Oratorio, and for many years President of the 
Philharmonic Society. 

I was once present at a meeting of this Society when a 
memorial volume of thanks from '*The Philharmonic" was 
presented to Mr. Carnegie. The book contained the auto- 
graphs of every member, working and honorary, of the 
association. Among the rest I added my name to the list ^ 
Shortly after the presentation exercises I met Mr. Carnegie 
on the stairs. He had the book under his arm. He graciously 
thanked me for adding my name, and spoke of how he prized 
my autograph. 

I replied somewhat loftily, "Oh, don't mention it — it is 
nothing — it is nothing!" And then I felt how feeble my 
attempted pleasantry was. To Mr. Carnegie it was no joke. In 
fact, he was as tickled with his book of names, and its 
assurance of affection, as a girl who has just been presented 
by her lover with a volume of Ella Wheeler Wilcox's poems. 
Then I saw how sensitive and tender is the heart of this most 
busy man, and how precious to him is human fellowship. 
q This is a side of his nature that was new to me. 
Shakespeare says, "Sad is the lot of princes." They are 
pushed out and away from .the common heart of humanity. 
Most of the men they meet want something, and as these 
folks want the thing they want awful bad, they never tell the 
prince the truth. In his presence they are like brass monkeys, 
or, more properly, like monkeys filled with monkey desires. 
^ They are shorn of all human attributes. 
Pity the lot of the multi-millionaire who has most incau- 
tiously allowed it to become known that he considers it "a 
disgrace for any man to die rich." 

Five hundred letters a day are sent to Andrew Carnegie, with 
suggestions concerning the best way in which he can escape 

disgrace. The lazzaroni of America are as bad as the same ANDREW 
tribe in Italy, only they play for bigger stakes. The altruistic CARNEGIE 
graft is as greedy as the grab of commercialism, that much 
berated thing. 

Mr. Carnegie cannot walk a block on Broadway without 
being beset by would-be philanthropists who offer to pit their 
time against his money, and thereby redeem the world from 
its sin and folly. 

And these philanthropists do not realize for a moment that 
they are, for the most part, plain grabheimers from Grabville. 
^ And all of their pious plans for human betterment have 
their root in a selfish desire for personal aggrandizement. 
Mr. Carnegie's plan of giving only where the parties them- 
selves also agree to give is a most wise and prudent move. 
^ The town that accepts thirty thousand dollars for a library, 
and agrees to raise three thousand a year to maintain it, is 
neither pamperized, patronized, nor pauperized. In ten years 
the town has put as much money into the venture as did Mr. 
Carnegie ^ J^ 

Like Nature, Andrew Carnegie is a good deal of a schemer. 
Ask a town to start in and raise three thousand dollars a year 
for library purposes, and the whole Common Council, His 
Honor the Mayor, and the Board of Education will throw a 
cataleptic fit. But get them fired with a desire to secure thirty 
thousand dollars from Mr. Carnegie, and they make the 
promise to love, honor, obey — and maintain — and strangely 
enough, they do. 

An action for non-support is a mighty disgraceful thing. 
It is a wonderful bit of psychology — this giving with an 
obligation — and Andrew Carnegie is not only the Prince of 
Ironmasters, but he is a pedagogic prestidigitator, and an 
artistic financial hypnotist. 

Not only does he give the library, but he sets half the town 
hustling to maintain it. 


ANDREW The actual good comes, not from the library building, but 

CARNEGIE from the human impulses set in motion — the direction given 

to thousands of lives. The library is merely an excuse — a 

rallying-point — and around it swings and centers the best life 

of the town. 

This working for a common cause dilutes the sectarian ego, 
dissolves village caste, makes neighbor acquainted with 
neighbor, and liberates a vast amount of human love, which 
otherwise would remain hermetically sealed. 
Gossip is only the lack of a worthy theme. A town library 
supplies topics for talk, and the books there supply ten 
thousand more. 

To accept a Carnegie library means to take on an obligation. 
^ Achievement always stands for responsibility. "Is it 
possible that you are nervous?" asked the man of Abraham 
Lincoln when the orator was about to appear before an 
audience ^ ^ 

**Young man," was the reply, "young man, I have spoken 
well. " To have done well and then live up to your record is a 
serious matter. Responsibility is ballast. A town that has taken 
on a Carnegie Library is one big committee intent on making 
the thing a success. 

There is furniture needed, pictures to secure, statuary to 
select, books to buy. 

A Carnegie Library is usually an annex to the High School. 
^ The whole intellectual force of the place is engaged, first in 
making the library a success, and second in avoiding the 
disgrace of failure. 

To gain paradise and escape perdition are two powerful factors 
■ — a fulcrum and a pry. 

most clever, cunning and canny Carnegie ! did you know 
how great and wise was your scheme? 
Not at all, any more than when you were a bobbin-boy you 
could have guessed that one day you would own two hundred 


and fifty million dollars in five-per-cent bonds. You are 
much astonished as any one to see the perfection of your plan. 
Like all great men you sail under sealed orders. 
As you "worked" the people by allowing them to "work" 
you for a gift, which once secured turns out not to be a gift 
but a responsibility, so has a Supreme Something been using 
you for a purpose you wist and wot not of. 
And the end is not yet. 


R. CARNEGIE has hoisted more 
ammunition into his fighting-top 
than any other millionaire in Amer- 
ica, or, so far as I know, than any 
other millionaire who ever lived, 
q He has read political history ; he 
knows the history of economics; 
he loves literature; he dips into 
philosophy; his taste is good in 
architecture; he understands psy- 
chology; and he appreciates art, 
poetry and music. This is an equip- 
ment which, for a very rich man, sets him apart in a class 
by himself. Judge Jere Black said that the mind of an 
average millionaire is a howling wilderness. But Andrew 
Carnegie is a very exceptional millionaire. 
Mr. Carnegie is an amateur millionaire, as opposed to the 
professional money-getter — the difference being this : your 
professional money-maker knows how to get money, but 
your amateur knows not only how to get it but how to 
spend it. 

As a writer and thinker, Mr. Carnegie has added one distinct 


ANDREW Jiew chapter to the world of thought. This is his "Gospel of 
CARNEGIE Wealth." I say **his" advisedly, for no one has ever put the 
matter in the same light before, in all the realm of books. 
^In this "Gospel of Wealth," Mr. Carnegie makes two separate 
and distinct divisions. One is the advantage and blessing of 
poverty; and the other is the responsibility that falls on the 
man who has surplus wealth. 

I give two paragraphs from Mr. Carnegie's essay which 
present the crux of his argument. But every thinking man 
and woman would do well to read and ponder all that Mr. 
Carnegie has to say on this subject of surplus wealth. 
Most Carnegie Libraries have Mr. Carnegie's books, but I 
heard of one that tabooed them, first because Mr. Carnegie is 
not a member of a church ; and second, on the plea that his 
books are unbiblical in their attitude, on the questions of 
poverty and wealth, and therefore fall into the category of 
** objectionable literature." 
Says Mr. Carnegie: 

The day is not far distant, when the man who dies, leaving 
behind him millions of available wealth which was free for 
him to administer during life, will pass away unwept, un- 
honored and unsung, no matter to what use he leaves the 
dross which he cannot take with him. Of such as these the 
public verdict will be, **The man who dies thus rich dies 
disgraced. " Such, in my opinion, is the true gospel concern- 
ing wealth, obedience to which is destined some day to solve 
the problem of rich and poor, and to bring peace on earth and 
good will to men. 

The aim of the millionaire should be, first, to set an example 
of modest, unostentatious living, shunning display and extrav- 
agances ; to provide moderately for the legitimate wants of 
those dependent upon him; after doing so to consider all 
surplus revenues which come to him simply as trust funds 
which he is called upon to administer, and strictly bound as 
a matter of duty to administer in the manner which in his 
judgment is best calculated to benefit the community. The 

man of wealth thus becomes the mere agent and trustee for ANDREW 
his poorer brethren, bringing to their service his superior c^RNEGIE 
wisdom, experience and ability to administer, and doing for 
them better than they could or would do for themselves. 

HE only time I ever heard Mr. 
Carnegie relate one of my pleasing 
stories was at a banquet of railroad 
officials, some months ago, in New 
York. Be it said, as a matter of 
truth, that Mr. Carnegie gave me 
due credit, although if he had not 
mentioned my name I would have 
been complimented to know that 
he had read the Good Stuff closely 
and pondered it well. 
As brother authors, you will please 

take notice that we observe the amenities. 

So here is the story: One lowering fall day I was walking 

along the road that leads from the village to my farm, two 

miles out of town. 

And as I trudged along I saw a horseshoe in the middle of the 

road. Now I never go by a horseshoe — it means good luck ! 

^ So I picked up the horseshoe, and instantly my psychic sky 

seemed to brighten. 

And as I walked along with the horseshoe in my hand I saw 

another horseshoe in the road. 

**Everything is coming my way,'* I said. I picked up the 

second horseshoe, and then I had one in each hand. 

I had gone about a quarter of a mile when I saw two more 

horseshoes right together in the road. 


ANDREW **It seems as if some one is working me," I said. I looked 

CARNEGIE around and could see no one. **And anyway, I accept the 

bluff," I said to myself, as I picked up the two horseshoes. 

^ Then I had two horseshoes in each hand, but I was n*t four 

times as happy as when I had one. 

I had gone about a quarter of a mile when I saw a pile of 
horseshoes in the road. 
*<I »ve got *em, I fear!" I said to myself. 
But I braced up and walking up to the pile of horseshoes I 
kicked into them. They were horseshoes all right. 
And just then I saw a man coming down the street picking up 
horseshoes in a bag. 

I watched him with dazed eyes and swallowed hard as I tried 
to comprehend the meaning of this strange combination. 
Just then I saw the man's horse and wagon ahead. 
He was a junk gentleman and had lost the tail-board out of 
his wagon and had been strewing horseshoes all along the 
way. He called to me and said, "Hey, ol' man, dem's my 
horse-shoes ! " 

**I know, " said I, '*I Ve been picking them up for you." 
And the moral is this : While it is true that one horseshoe 
brings you good luck, a load of horseshoes is junk. 


N way of personal endowments, ANDREW 
Mr. Carnegie has favored two CARNEGIE 
individuals, Booker T. Washing- 
ton and Luther Burbank. And so 
far as I know these are the only 
two men in America who should 
be endowed. 

Even the closest search, as well as 
a careful scrutiny in the mirror, 
fails to find any one else whom it 
would be wise or safe to make im- 
mune from the struggle. 
To make a man secure against the exigencies of life is to kill 
his ambition and destroy his incentive. To transform a man 
into a jellyfish, give him a fixed allowance, regardless of 
what he does. This truth also applies to women. Women will 
never be free until they are economically free. 
The fifteen million dollars which Mr. Carnegie has given for 
a pension-fund for superannuated college professors, is quite 
another thing from pensioning a man so he will be free to 
work out his ideal. 

The only people who have ideals are those in the fight. 
But even this beneficent pension-fund for teachers turned 
out to grass requires the most delicate and skilful handling. 
^ Several instances have already arisen where colleges have 
retired men well able to work, in order that these men might 
secure the pensions and the college could put in younger 
men at half the pay. There has even been a suspicion that 
the pensioner "divied" with the college. 
To supply an incentive or temptation for a man in middle 
life to quit work in order that he may secure a pension is a 
danger which the donor mildly anticipated, but which he 
finds very hard to guard against. What is **middle life"? 
Ah, it depends upon the man. Some men are young at seventy, 


ANDREW and Professor Mommsen at eighty was at the very height of 
CARNEGIE his power. Some teachers want to **retire," others don't. 
^ Nature knows nothing of pensions. Let each man be paid for 
his labor and let him understand that economy of expendi- 
ture is the true and only insurance against want in old age. 
^ The pensioning of the youth is really more dangerous than 
to pension age. The youth should ask for nothing but op- 
portunity. To make him immune from work and economy is 
to supply him a ticket — one way — to Matteawan. 
In order to educate a boy for life, we should not lift him out 
of life. The training for life should slide into life at an un- 
known and unrecognizable point. The boy born into poverty, 
who fetches in wood for his mother and goes after the cows, 
has already entered upon a career. His brown bare feet are 
carrying messages, and his hands are taking on the habit of 
helpfulness. He is getting under the burden ; and such a one 
will never be a parasite on society. 

In East Aurora there used to live a noted horseman. He bred, 
raised, trained, and drove several trotters that made world's 
records. Then behold another man comes on the scene — 
and a good man, too — and says: '*Go to, I will raise and 
train horses that will go so fast that Pa Hamlin's horses 
will do only for the plow. " 

So he built a covered and enclosed track, a mile around. It 
cost nearly a hundred thousand dollars. And here the wise 
one was to train his colts all winter, while the other man's 
horses ran barefoot, and with long woolly coats plowed 
through snow-drifts awaiting for spring to come with chirrup 
of birds and good roads. 

Result — the man with the covered track had his horses **fit" 
in April, but in July and August when the races were to begin 
they had "gone past." Moreover, it was discovered that 
horses trained on a covered track could not be raced with 
safety on an open course. ^ The roofed track had shut the 

horse in, giving him a feeling of protection and safety ; but ANDREW 
when he got on an open track, the sun, the sky, the crowds, CARNEGIE 
the moving vehicles sent him into a nervous dance. A bird 
flying overhead would stampede him. He lost his head and 
wore out his nerve. 

But the horses that had been woolly in February grew sleek 
in May, and being trained in the open grew used to the 
sights, and for them every day was a race-day. In August they 
were hard and cool and level-headed, and always had one 
link left when called upon at the home stretch. 
The covered track was all right in theory, but false in prac- 
tice. It ruined a thousand colts, and never produced a single 
trotter. Don't train either horses or children indoors, and 
out of season, and expect a world-beater. 
Next, make your teaching and training life, not an indoor 
make-believe. The school that approximates life will be the 
school whose pupils make records. What is needed now is a 
line of colleges in the North that will do for white folks what 
Booker T. Washington does for the colored. And the reason 
we do not have such schools is because we have not yet evolved 
men big enough as teachers to couple business and books. 
^ The men who can make money can't teach, and those who 
can teach can't make money. The man of the future will do 
both. Tuskeegee has no servants, no menials, and employs 
no laborers. The work of housing and feeding two thousand 
persons is all student labor. This is a great achievement. 
But the University that is to come will go beyond Tuskeegee in 
this : it will supply commodities to supply to the world what 
the world wants. 

Three or four hours of manual labor a day will not harm 
either the body or brain of a growing youth. On the other 
hand it will give steadiness to life. This labor will be paid for, 
so the student will be independent at all times from all out- 
side help J^ This will make for manhood and self-reliance. 



R. CARNEGIE has given no money 
to universities. 

Various Technical Schools have 
been greatly assisted, however, at 
his hands. 

The college that teaches men and 
women how to earn a living — how 
to add to the wealth and happiness 
of the world and how to make men 
useful instead of ornamental — this 
kind of a school interests Andrew 
Carnegie. His criticisms on the 
old-time universities have been temperate, just as his ideas 
concerning churches have not been offensively pressed. But 
he has let the public know that just as a sect ministers, at 
best, to only a fraction of the community, so does the educa- 
tion de luxe have its grave limitations. 
Mr. Carnegie knows that the great universities, like Oxford, 
Cambridge, Yale, Harvard and Princeton, grew up out of the 
divinity school which follows the monastery idea. The ideal 
was the ideal of a priest, and to a great degree this conception 
abides J^ The intent is not to fit the pupil for the struggle of 
life, but to relieve him from it. 

And any education that separates man from man is not 
wholly good. College education has ruined a vast number of 
men. All the great and fashionable universities are given over 
to cigarettes, booze, bromide and the devious ways of 
dalliance «^ ,^ 

^ Bodily exercise is optional — there is athletics, but physical 
culture for those who need it most is carefully cut. 
These universities are filled, for the most part, with remit- 
tance men ^ If a boy is a burden at home, and has no incli- 
nation to help his father in his business, the lad is sent to Har- 
vard. This in the hope that a coUege^degree will make amends 

for lack of phosphorus. As people under suspicion have been ANDREW 
known to flash a marriage certificate, so does a card of mem- CARNEGIE 
bership in a University Club supply the social benzoate of 
soda. The college degree today is a social passport — it is no 
proof of ability. 

All of which does not apply to boys who work their way 
through college — this is quite another matter. 
The intent of Tuskeegee Institute is to show the youth how to 
earn a living — to mind his own business, to be useful to him- 
self and others. Its aim is to evolve character, not merely 
culcha. Hence the ban on booze, the taboo on tobacco, and the 
lessons in such homely themes as personal cleanliness, moral 
integrity, manly abstinence, industry, and a strict looking 
after of one person — and that the individual right under your 
own hat. Mr. Carnegie would say that to write poetry, play 
the piano, orate in orotund and gesticulate in curves, were 
folly, if the party cultivated the poker-face and did n't pay 
his debts. 

Artistic genius is no excuse today for not walking the moral 
chalk-line — all that lies behind. 

And yet Mr. Carnegie is no Puritan — he believes in all nat- 
ural, normal sports, and he loves the laughter that has in it 
no bitterness. 

He thinks an ounce of competence is worth a pound of 
cleverness. The college that makes its pupils immune from 
physical work is fitting them for the toboggan. 
It may not destroy all, but it will maim many. 
Have we not seen men with titles in front of their names and 
degrees behind, who dived deep and soared high, and yet 
were in debt to the tailor? The world is full of educated fools, 
and Mr. Carnegie has done more than any other living man 
to lessen the number and curtail their production. He has not 
only preached the dignity of labor, but lived the lesson in a 
hundred forms. 


ANDREW The average millionaire has not had college advantages, and 
CARNEGIE so he is apt to indulge in the foolish fancy that he has lost 
something out of his life. 

Hence, he sends his boys to college, especially, as stated, if 
they do not show much aptitude for work. The final choice of 
college is left to the mother and boy, with the sisters as ad- 
visers. The advantage of social station here comes in, and it *s 
Cecil for the pedagogic polish and a patent-leather Princeton 
shine. Mr. Carnegie knows that this brand of youth may 
possibly make a good head clerk, but very, very rarely does 
he become a Superintendent or General Manager. The big boys 
who run the railroads, banks, factories, grain-elevators and 
steamship lines are men who **never had a chance in life." 
^ College at its best is an artificial and unnatural scheme of 
education. It may be a good make-believe, but it is not life. 
fl It is like that method in the Elmira Reform School where 
they eternally build brick buildings and eternally tear them 
down. This is better than idleness, but the shroud that Penel- 
ope wove during the day and raveled at night was n*t much 
of a shroud. Every inmate at Elmira realizes that he is not 
helping to erect a building — he is only pretending to do so. 
^ That is the difference between Elmira and Tuskeegee. At 
Tuskeegee the building is planned for use and built to stay, 
and it is built in freedom and joy. 

The nearer our schools approach life, the more useful they 
are. There is great danger that a make-believe education will 
evolve a make-believe man. The college of the future will 
supply the opportunity, but the man will get his education 
himself. And it will not be a surface shine. To earn a living 
is quite as necessary as to parse the Greek verb and wrestle 
the ablative. 

Some day, no college will graduate a man or woman who 
cannot at once earn a living. To make good is better than to 
make an excuse Jt The college and life must be one. The 

education of the future will be industrial, and opportunities ANDREW 
will be afforded so the youth will get his living and his education CARNEGIE 
at the same time. ^The college will then be a cross-section of 
life, not a papier-mache imitation of it. 

NCE at a wake a certain Milesian 
by the name of Mickey Dolan sat 
apart and refused to join in the 
general praise of the deceased. 
"Come," said one of the guests, 
**come now, Mickey — be fair and 
acknowledge it, he was a good 
shoveler ! " 

Mickey shifted his dudheen and 
replied with acerbity, **Well, as 
for that, I '11 be admittin* he was 
a good shoveler, but he was n't 
what ye could call a fancy shoveler. " 
I am a writing man, and it seems to me absurd that a multi- 
millionaire can write at all. 

As for Andrew Carnegie's literary gifts, he is surely a good 
writer, but he is not what you could call a fancy writer. He 
says things in good clear straight English. We know what he 
means, and his thought is always worth recording, but the 
forensic frillsj say of Edgar Saltus, Alfred Henry Lewis and 
William Marion Reedy, are not here. His books are no jig-saw 
puzzle. The man has ideas and he states them. He is never 
guilty of writing Johnsonese, nor does he trespass on the 
preserve of Eleanor Glyn. His pages are flavored by subtle 
dashes of wit, as when he speaks of a Wall Street broker, 
** whose relatives with unconscious humor spoke of his being 


ANDREW a business man." q**The Empire of Business," by Andrew 
CARNEGIE Carnegie, is a book that every business man should read. 
It is a book that should be in every High School Library. 
^ Mr. Carnegie believes in the divinity of business — that it is 
just as honorable and beautiful to serve the material wants of 
humanity as to write poetry or play the piano. He would 
make of business an art, and in this respect he is voicing the 
best thought of the day. 
I append a few specimen Carnegie nuggets : 

^ HE young man who never had a chance is the same 
^^ young man who has been canvassed over and over again 
by his superiors, and found destitute of necessary qualifica- 
tions, or is deemed unworthy of closer relations with the 
firm, owing to some objectional act, habit, or association, of 
which he thought his employers ignorant. 

Perhaps some one in the vast audience which I have imagined 
I am about to hold spellbound cries out: '*Who are you — a 
gold-bug, a millionaire, an iron-baron, a beneficiary of the 
McKinley Bill? " Before beginning my address, let me there- 
fore reply to that imaginary gentleman that I have not seen a 
thousand dollars in gold for many a year. 

The young women who overfeed the dogs, and the fathers 
who ruin their sons, have themselves to thank. 

Let no man know more of your specialty than you do your- 
self jft ^^ 

He prayeth best who worketh best. 

Accumulated into a great fund and expended as Peter 
Cooper expended it for the Cooper Institute, wealth es- 
tablishes something that will last for generations. 

You can not push any one up a ladder unless he is willing to 
climb a little himself. 

The epitaph which every rich man should wish himself justly ANDREW 
entitled to is that seen upon the monument of Pitt : CARNEGIE 

He lived without ostentation, 

And he died poor. 

By administering surplus wealth during life, great wealth 
may become a blessing to the community, and the occupation 
of the business man accumulating wealth may be elevated so 
as to rank with any profession. 

From the anxieties of poverty as from the responsibilities of 
wealth, good Lord, deliver us. 

First conquer your home market and the foreign market will 
probably be added to you. 

Never indorse until you have cash means not required for 
your own debts, and never indorse bevond those means. 

We do not so much need capital as we need the man who has 
proved that he has the business habits which create capital ; 
and to create it in the best of all possible ways, as far as self- 
discipline is concerned, is by adjusting his habits as to his 
means Jt- J> 

No young man ever lived who had not a chance, and a 
splendid chance, too, if he ever was employed at all. 

Abolish poverty, and what would become of the race? Prog- 
ress, development, would cease. The supply of the good and 
the great would cease, and human society retrograde into 
barbarism Jt> jt 


ANDREW iRS^ISxPlFSq^lSSPil^- CARNEGIE'S success, like that 
CARNEGIE s^i' sK4^ iKi ^^^ ^^ every master business man, has 

turned on his selection of men. He 
has always been on the lookout for 
young men who could carry the 
Message Jt J^ 

^ His success proves his ability to 
judge humanity. 

Whenever he was sure he had the 
genuine article he would give the 
young man an interest in the busi- 
ness, often a percentage on sales 
or output, q This was the plan of Marshall Field. 
By this method he transformed a good man into a master, 
and bound the man to him in a way that no outside influence 
could lend a lure. The only disadvantage in this, Mr. Carnegie 
says, is that when the young man becomes a millionaire you 
may have him for a competitor, but even with this risk, it is 
much wiser than to try to carry all the burden yourself. 
fl A multi-millionaire should raise a goodly brood of million- 
aires, and of necessity does. 

Wise is the man who sees to it that he has an understudy. 
Once upon a time, along in the eighties, Mr. Carnegie got 
somewhat overworked and took a trip to Europe. Just before 
going, he went around and bade good-by to each of the Big 
Boys who ran the mills. One of these was Captain William 
Jones, more familiarly known to fame as plain Bill Jones. 
q **Bill,** said Mr. Carnegie, **I 'm a bit weary and I feel I 
must get away, and the only place for me to go is Europe. I 
have to place an ocean between me and this mighty hum of 
industry before I can get rest. And do you know. Bill, no 
matter how oppressed I am, just as soon as I round Sandy 
Hook and get out of sight of land, I get perfect relief." 
And Bill answered: "And, Lord, just think of the relief 

we all get," and everybody roared, Andy loudest of all. ANDREW 

qAnd the last thing that Andy did before sailing was to CARNEGIE 

raise Bill's salary just ten thousand dollars a year. 

Mr. Carnegie has always liked men who are not afraid of 

him; and when one of his workers could convince him that 

he — the worker — knew more about some particular phase of 

the business than Mr. Carnegie, that man was richly rewarded. 

Mr. Carnegie has ever been on friendly terms with his men. 

^ And had he been in America when the Homestead labor 

trouble arose, there would have been no strike. He is firm 

when he should be, but he is always friendly. He is wise enough 

and big enough to give in a point. Like Lincoln, he likes to let 

people have their own way. He manages them, if need be, by 

indirection, rather than by formal edict, order and injunction. 

>\RBARIC people prize gold and 
make much use of silver. 
But the consumption of iron is the 
badge of civilization. 
Iron rails, iron steam-boats, iron 
buildings! And who was there 
thirty years ago who foresaw the 
modern sky-scraper, any more 
than a hundred years ago men 
foretold the iron steamship I 
The business of Andrew Carnegie 
has been to couple the iron mines 
of Lake Superior with the coal-fields of Pennsylvania. 
And to load the ore in Duluth and transport it to Pittsburgh, 
a thousand miles away, and transform it into steel rails was a 
matter of ten days. When the Carnegie Steel Company was 


ANDREW reconstructed in Nineteen Hundred, it was with no intention 
CARNEGIE of selling out. It was the biggest and best-organized business 
concern in America, with possibly one exception. 
Its capital was one hundred million dollars. It owned the 
Homestead, the Edgar Thompson and the Duquesne Mills. 
^ Besides this, it owned seven other smaller mills. 
It owned thousands of acres of ore-land in the Lake 
Superior country. It owned a line of iron steamships that 
carried the ore to the Pittsburgh railroad connections. It 
owned the railroads that brought the ore from the mines 
to the docks, and it owned the docks. It owned vast coal- 
mines in Pennsylvania, and it owned a controlling interest 
in the Connellville coke-ovens, from whence five miles of 
freight-cars, in fair times, were daily sent to the mills, loaded 
with coke. 

These properties were practically owned by Mr. Carnegie 
personally, and his was the controlling hand. He had a daily 
report from every mill, which in a few lines told just what 
the concern was doing. There was also a daily report from 
each branch ofiice, and a report from the head cashier where 
one line of figures presaged the financial weather. 
When **the billion-dollar trust"— the United States Steel 
Corporation — was formed, Mr. Carnegie sold his interests in 
the Carnegie plants to the new concern for two hundred and 
fifty million dollars, and took his pay in five-per-cent bonds. 
^ It was the biggest and cleanest clean-up ever consummated 
in the business world. 

As a financial get-away it has no rival in history. 
There were many wise ones who said, "Oh, he will foreclose 
and have the works back in a few years. " But not so — the 
United States Steel Corporation has made money and is 
making money because it is being managed by men who, for 
the most part, were trained by Carnegie in the financial way 
they should go. 


As far as money is concerned, Mr. Carnegie could have made ANDREW 

much more by staying in business than by selling out, but CARNEGIE 

Andrew Carnegie quit one job to take up a harder one. ^ 

"To die a millionaire will yet be a disgrace, " he said. To give 

away money is easy, but to give it away wisely, so it will 

benefit the world for generations to come — that is a most 

difficult and exacting task. 

Money not earned is a curse to an individual — a mental, moral 

and physical curse, and yet the vast majority of people want 

something for nothing. To give away money wisely is like 

feeding milk to a dozen hungry calves from one pail. 

We remember the girl who, when advised by her mother as 

to the folly of getting married, airily replied : "Well, I want to 

learn the folly of it for myself I " And so it is with having money 

not earned — we want to know the folly of it for ourselves. 

Mr. Carnegie seems the only man in the world who is blazing 

a trail through the forest that leads to the Science of Giving. 

^ The quarter of a thousand million in Steel Bonds did not 

constitute Mr. Carnegie's whole wealth. He had several little 

investments outside of that. In fact, that clever saying, "Put 

all your eggs in one basket, " is exoteric, not esoteric. 

What Mr. Carnegie really meant was, if you are only big 

enough to watch one basket, to have two were folly. Mr. 

Carnegie himself has always had his eggs in a dozen or so 

baskets, but he never has had any more baskets than he 

could watch. His baskets were usually coupled together like 

the "grasshopper," which pumps several oil-wells with one 

engine. Wealth is good for those who can use it; power the 

same ; but when you cease to manage a thing and the thing 

begins to manage you, it may eat you up. 

In East Aurora there used to be a good friend of mine who 

had a peanut-stand at the station. 

The business flourished and some one advised my friend that 

be should put in popcorn as a side-line. 


ANDREW He did so, and got nervous prostration. You see, he was a pea- 
CARNEGIE nut man, and when he got outside of his specialty he was lost. 
One realizes the herculean task of dying poor which confronts 
Mr. Carnegie, when you think that he is worth, say, five 
hundred million dollars. This is invested so that it brings an 
income of five per cent, or twenty-five million dollars a 
year ^ Jt> 

So far Mr. Carnegie has been barely able to give away his 
income, to say nothing of the principal. His total benefac- 
tions up to the present time amount to about two hundred 
millions. He has nearly worked the territory with libraries. 
You can't give two libraries to a town, excepting in the big 
cities — people protest and will not have them. 
There is a limit to pipe-organs. 

Heroes are so plentiful that it is more or less absurd to dis- 
tinguish them with medals. Dunfermline is almost done for 
by a liberality that would damn any American town. 
To give faster than people grow is to run the grave risk of 
arresting development. A benefaction must bestow a benefit. 
^ Give to most people and they will quit work and get a job 
with George Arliss, for the Devil still finds mischief for idle 
hands to do. 

To relieve the average man from work would simply increase 
the trade in cigarettes, cocaine, bromide and strong drink, 
and supply candidates for Sing Sing. To make a vast fortune 
and then lose the tail-board out of your hearse and dump your 
wealth on a lazy world merely causes the growler to circulate 
rapidly. And so we sympathize with Andrew Carnegie in his 
endeavor to live up to his dictum to die poor, and yet not 
pauperize the world by his wealth. But let us not despond. The 
man is only seventy-two. His eyes are bright ; his teeth are 
firm ; his form is erect ; his limbs are agile ; and his brain is at 
its best. Most hopeful sign of all, he can laugh. He can even 
laugh at himself. This means sanity and length of days. 

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is a Re- 

bility, and is Only 
Good for Those 
Who Know How 


HE heroes 
times were 
the men 
who killed and des- 
troyed; the heroes 
of our day are those 
who succor and 

save.— y4 n dre w Carnegie 

Vol. 25 


No. 3 


Hg HOMF^ Off 

IME^^ MEfl 



George Peabody 



SlJZ N^HKH-Tg-nn SgSg 

H-Hbl-HiyUO|^ SlgS[g 


IB M b y/ ■ YOT^ §g ig 




trial, hard- 
ship, obstacle, 

are all necessary factors 
I in the evolution of a 
great soul ■V' ■¥-■¥' ■V> •¥> 

jjost-offlce in t^.i.^i ;kui-ora, New York, for transmfasion as-seoojid-class matter. 
Copyright, 1909, by Elbert Hubbard, Editor, and Publisher. 

Message to Garcia 

was first printed in "The Philistine'* of March, 1899. 
The merit of the article was instantly recognized, and 
the edition disappeared. The article was then reprinted 
by George H. Daniels, of the New York Central Lines, 
and over three million copies were distributed S^ It was 
also reprinted by the Westinghouse Company in England. 
In France the Bon Marche of Paris distributed a million 
copies. Prince Hilakoff, Director of Railways in Russia, 
translated the essay into Russian and presented a copy 
to every officer in the Russian Army ^^ The Mikado of 
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Japanese, and a copy was placed in the hands of every 
Japanese soldier. C[ In all, the "Message" has been 
translated into eleven languages, and reprinted over 
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w^ider circulation than any other article ever written by 
an American, and a larger circulation in the same space 
of time than any other article ever produced in all the 
history of literature. We have a S^ ^<^ S^ ^i^ ^^ ^i^ 

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THE ROYCROFTERS, East Aurora, New York 




George Peabody 

" •"""•" KOMF • INTO • n "— 


3E SZEEIEZS3233ia Sg ag 



THE great deeds for human betterment must be done by individ- 
uals — they can never be done by the many. 




EORGE PEABODY was a noted 
American merchant and banker. 
He was bom in the village of 
Danvers, Massachusetts, in 
Seventeen Hundred Ninety-five. 
He died in London in Eighteen 
Hundred Sixty-nine. 
In childhood, poverty was his 
portion. But he succeeded, for 
he had the persistent corpuscle, 
and he had charm of manner — 
two things which will make any 
man a winner in the game of life. 

He gave away during his lifetime eight million dollars. When 
he died he had four million dollars left, which was distributed 
by his will, largely for the betterment of society. 
The fact that Peabody left so much money was accidental. He 
intended to give this money away, under his own personal, 
supervision, but Death came suddenly. 
Has the world made head the past forty years? 
Listen, Terese, it has made more progress during the past- 
forty years than in the two thousand years preceding. 
The entire fortune of George Peabody, including what he 
gave away during his life and what he left, was twelve 
million dollars. 

This is just the income of Andrew Carnegie for six months.. 
fl We scarcely realize how civilization smells of paint until 
we remember that George Peabody was the world's first: 



philanthropist. flNo doubt there were many people with 
philanthropic impulses before him, but they were poor. It *s 
easy to sympathize with humanity when you have nothing 
to give but advice. 

The miracle comes in when great wealth and great love 
of mankind are combined in one individual. 
In the Occident, giving to the poor is lending to the devil. 
The plan has always been more or less of a pastime to the 
rich, but the giving has usually been limited to sixpences, 
with absolute harm to the poor. All any one should ask is 
opportunity. Sailors just ashore, with three months* pay, 
are the most charitable men on earth — we might also say 
they are the most loving and the least lovable. 
The beggars wax glad when Jack lumbers their way with 
a gaily painted galley in tow ; but alas, tomorrow Jack belongs 
to the poor. 

Charity in the past has been prompted by weakness and 
whim — the penance of rogues — and often we give to get 
rid of the troublesome applicant. 

Beggary and virtue were imagined to have something akin. 
Rags and honesty were sort of synonymous, and we spoke 
of honest hearts that beat *neath ragged jackets J(> That 
was poetry, but was it art? Or was it just a little harmless 
exercise of the lachrymal glands? Riches and roguery were 
spoken of in one breath, unless the gentleman was present 
and then we curtsied, cringed or crawled, and laughed 
loudly at all his jokes. 

These things doubtless dated back to a time when the only 


mode of accumulating wealth was through oppression ^ 
Pirates were rich — honest men were poor J> To be poor 
proved that you were not a robber. The heroes in war took 
cities, and all they could carry away was theirs .^ The 
monasteries were passing rich in the Middle Ages, because 
their valves only opened one way — they received much 
and paid out nothing. To save the souls of men was a just 
equivalent for accepting their services for the little time 
they were on earth. QThe monasteries owned the land, and 
the rentals paid by the fiefs and villeins went into the church 
treasuries. Sir Walter Scott has an abbot say this: "I took 
the vow of poverty, and find myself with an income of 
twenty thousand pounds a year." 

But wealth did not burden the monks forever. Wealth 
changes hands — that is one of its peculiarities. 
War came, red of tooth and claw, and the soldiery, which 
heretofore had been used only to protect the religious 
orders, now flushed with victory, turned against them Jt> 
Charges were trumped up against churchmen high in 
authority, and without doubt the charges were often true, 
because a robe and a rope girdle, or the reversal of haber- 
dashery, do not change the nature of a man. Down under 
the robe, you'll sometimes find a man frail of soul — grasp- 
ing, sensual, selfish. 

The monasteries were looked upon as contraband of war. 
**To the victors belong the spoils," was the motto of a 
certain man who was President of the United States, so 
persistent was the war idea of acquiring wealth. 



The property of the religious orders was confiscated, and 
as a reward for heroic services, great soldiers were given 
great tracts of land, jt The big estates in Europe all have 
their origin in this well-established custom of dividing the 
spoils. The plan of taking the property of each or all who 
were guilty of sedition, treason and contumacy was well 
established by precedents that traced back to Cain. When 
George Washington appropriated the estate of Roger Morris, 
forty centuries of precedent looked down upon him. 
Also, it might be added that if a man owned a particularly 
valuable estate, and a soldier desired this estate, it was easy 
for this soldier to massage his conscience by listening to and 
believing the report that the owner had spoken ill of the king, 
and given succor to the enemy. 

Then the soldier felt it his **duty" to punish the recreant one 
by taking his property. 

And so the Age of the Barons followed the Age of the Monas- 
teries J^ J^ 

And now the Barons have given way to the Age of the 

The Monks multiplied the poor by a monopoly on education. 
Superstition, poverty and incompetence formed the portion 
of the many. **This world is but a desert drear," was the 
actual fact as long as priests and soldiers were supreme. 
^The Reign of the Barons was merely a transfer of power 
with no revision of ideals. The choice between a miter and 
a helmet is nil, and when the owner converses through his 
head-gear, his logic is alike vulnerable and valueless. 


So enters the Merchant, whose business it is to carry things 

from where they are plentiful to where they are scarce. 

And comes he so quietly and with so little ostentation that 

men do not realize the change. 

And George Peabody, an American, gives three million 

dollars to the poor of London. This money was not tossed 

out to purchase peace, and to encourage idleness, and to 

be spent in strong drink and frills and finery, and the ways 

that lead to Nowhere, but to provide better homes for men, 

women and children. 

"Lay hold on eternal life," said Paul, writing to Timothy. 

The proper translation we now believe should be, "Lay hold 

on the age to come. " 

Philanthropy now seeks to lay hold on the age to come. We 

are building for the future. 

The embryo has eyes, ears and organs of speech. But the 
embryo does not see, nor hear, nor speak. It is laying hold 
on the age to come — it is preparing to live — it is getting 
ready for the future. ^ The past is dead, the present is dying, 
and only that which is to come is alive. 
Philanthropy, up to the time of Peabody, was palliation, 
just as the entire practise of medicine was palliation until 
the Goths and Vandals, day before yesterday, razed the 
walls of medical orthodoxy, and with the help of Dr. Eliot 
demolished the god Terminus and his temple. 
The life of George Peabody was not in what he gave, but 
in what he taught. He inspired the millionaires that are 
to be. He laid hold on the age to come. 



P E A B D Y 

EORGE PEABODY is another ex- 
ample of a boy who succeeded in 
spite of his parents. The rigors of 
climate and the unkindness of a 
scanty soil may be good things. 
They are good, like competition, 
very excellent, provided you do 
not get more than your consti- 
tution requires. 

New England has her ** white 
trash," as well as the South J^ 
The Peabodys of Danvers were 
good folks who never seemed to get on. They had come down 
from the mountains of New Hampshire, headed for Boston, 
but got stuck near Salem. If there was anything going on, 
like mumps, measles, potato-bugs, blight, **janders" or the 
cows-in-the-corn, they got it. Their roof leaked, the cistern 
busted, the chimney fell in, and although they had nothing 
worth stealing the house was once burglarized while the 
family was at church ^ The moral to little George was 
plain: Don't go to church and you'll not get burgled. Life 
was such a grievous thing that the parents forgot how to 
laugh, and so George's joke brought him a cuff on the ear 
in the interests of pure religion and undefiled. 
A couple of generations back there was a strain of right 
valiant heroic Peabody blood. Among the "Green Mountain 
Boys" there was a Peabody, and another Peabody was 
captain of a packet that sailed out of Boston for London. 


To run away and join this uncle as cabin-boy, was George's 
first ambition. 

People in the country may be poor, but in America such 
never suffer for food. If hunger threatens, the children can 
skirmish among the neighbors. The village of Danvers 
was separated by only a mile or so of swale and swamp 
from Salem, a place that once rivaled Boston commercially, 
and in matters of black cats, and elderly women who rode 
broomsticks by night, set the world a pace. Fish, clams, 
water-lilies, berries, eels and other such flora and fauna 
were plentiful, and became objects of merchandizing for 
the Peabody boys, bare of foot and filled with high emprise. 
^ Parents often bestow upon their progeny the qualities 
which they themselves do not possess — so wonderful is this 
law of heredity. 

George was the youngest boy in the brood, and was looked 
after by his ** other mother, " that is to say, by an elder sister. 
When this sister married, the boy was eleven years old. To 
the lad this marriage was more like a funeral. 
He could read and write and count to a hundred, having gone 
to school for several months each winter since he was seven. 
He could write better than his father or mother — he wrote 
like copperplate, turning his head on one side and chewing 
his tongue, keeping pace with his lips, as the pen glided 
gracefully over the paper. His ambition was to make a bird 
with a card in its bill, and on this card, written so small 
no one could read it, the proud name, G. Peabody. 
This ability to write brought him local fame, and Sylvester 



Proctor, who kept a general store in the village, offered to 
take him on a four years' apprenticeship and let him learn 
him the trade of Greengrocer and Dealer in W. I. Goods Jt> 
The papers were duly made out and signed, the boy being 
consulted afterward. What the consideration was, was not 
stated, but rumor has it that the elder Peabody was paid 
Twenty-five dollars in "W. I. Goods" and also wet goods. 
^Proctor was a typical New England merchant of the Class B 
type. He was up at daylight, shaved his upper lip, and swept 
off the sidewalk in front of his store. At night he put up the 
shutters with his own hands. He remembered every article 
he had on his shelves and what it cost. He bought nothing 
he could not pay for. There was one clerk beside the boy ^ 
After George came, the merchant and his clerk made all 
the memoranda on brown paper, and the items were duly 
copied into the ledger by George Peabody. 
I have been told that a man who writes pure Spencerian can 
never do anything else. This, however, is a hasty general- 
ization, put forth by a party who wrote a Horace Greeley 
hand J- J> 

A country store is the place for a boy to learn merchandizing. 
In such a place he is never swallowed up by a department. 
He learns everything, from shaking down the ashes in the 
big stove to buying and selling fadeless calico. He becomes 
an expert with a nail-puller, knows strictly fresh eggs from 
eggs, and learns how to adapt himself to the whims, caprices, 
and notions of the customers who know little and assume 
much j^ Jt> 


P E A B D Y 

George Peabody slept in the attic over the store. He took his 
meals with the Proctor family, and used to wipe the dishes 
for Mrs. Proctor. He could tend store, tend baby, wash a blue 
wagon, drive a ** horse and team" and say **back-sshe!" in 
a way that would throw you off the front seat when the horse 
stopped if you did n*t look out. 

That is to say, he was a New England village boy, alive and 
alert to every phase of village life — strong, rapid, willing, 
helpful. The villager who knows too much gets "fresh" and 
falls a victim of arrested development. The boy in a village 
who works, and then gets out into a wider sphere at that 
critical period when the wanderlust strikes him, is in the 
line of evolution. 

George Peabody remained at Proctor's store until nine o'clock 
in the evening of the day that marked the close of his four 
years of apprenticeship. 

He was fifteen, and all tempting offers from Mr. Proctor to 
pay him wages thereafter in real money were turned aside. 
^ He had a new suit of clothes, five dollars in his pocket, 
and ambition in his heart. He was going to be a draper, and 
eliminate all **W. I. goods." 



P E A B D Y 

VER at Newburyport, George had 
a brother, David Peabody, who 
ran a **draper*s shop." Tha is to 
say, David Peabody was a dry- 
goods merchant. This was a com- 
paratively new thing in America, 
for a "store" at that time, usually 
kept everything that people wanted. 
The exclusive draper idea came 
from London. It seemed to work 
in Boston, and so Newburyport 
tried it ,5^ .^ 

David and George had talked it over together, and a partner- 
ship was in mind. In the meantime George was only fifteen 
years old, and David thirty. "I am twice as old as you," 
once said David to George, with intent to make the lad know 
his proper place. 

"Yes, I know ; but you will not be twice as old as I very long, " 
replied George, who was up in mathematics. 
The brothers did not mix very well. They were tuned to a 
different vibration. One had speed — the other was built for 
the plow ^ ^ 

And when the store caught fire and burned, and almost all 
of Newburyport was burned up too, it was a good time for 
George to strike for pastures new. 

He walked down to Boston, and spent all his money for a 
passage on a coaster that was about to sail for Washington, in 
the District of Columbia. This was in the latter part of the 


year Eighteen Hundred Eleven. ^Washington was the capital 
of the country, and there was an idea then that it was, also, 
going to be the commercial metropolis. Hence the desire to 
get in on the ground floor. Especially was the South to look 
to Washington for her supplies. 

George Peabody, aged sixteen, looked the ground over, and 
thought he saw opportunity nodding in his direction. 
He sat down and wrote to a wholesale dry-goods dealer by 
the name of Todd in Newburyport, ordering draperies to 
the amount of two thousand dollars. 

Blessed is that man who knows what he wants, and asks 
for it j^ »^ 

Todd remembered the boy who had given him orders in 
Proctor's, and at once filled the order. 
In three months Todd got his money and an order for double 
the amount. 

In those days the plan of calling on the well-to-do planters,, 
and showing them the wares of Autolycus was in vogue ^ 
English dress-goods were a lure to the ladies. George Peabody 
made a pack as big as he could carry, tramped, smiled and! 
sold the stuff. When he had emptied his pack, he came back 
to his room where his stock was stored and loaded up again.. 
If there were remnants he sold them out to some crossroads 
store J^ jt 

The fact that the Jews know a few things in a worldly way, 
I trust will not be denied. George Peabody, the Yankee, 
adopted the methods of the Chosen People jt And at that 
early date, it comes to us as a bit of a miracle, that George 



Peabody said, "You can*t afford to sell anybody anything 
which he does not need, nor can you afford to sell it at a 
price beyond what it is worth." Also this, "When I sell a 
woman draperies, I try to leave the transaction so I can go 
back next week and sell her more. " 

Also this, "Credit is the sympathetic nerve of commerce. 
There are men who do not keep faith with those from whom 
they buy, and such last only a little while. Others do not keep 
faith with those to whom they sell, and such do not last long. 
To build on the rock one must keep his credit absolutely 
unsullied, and he must make a friend of each and all to 
whom he sells." 

The Judaic mental processes have been sharpened by 
migration. To carry a pack and peddle is better than to 
work for a Ph. D., save for the social usufruct and the eclat 
of the unthinking. 

We learn by indirection and not when we say, "Go to! Now 
watch us take a college course and enlarge our phrenological 
organs. " 

Our knobs come from knocks, and not from the gentle 
massage of hired tutors. 

Selling subscription-books, maps, sewing-machines or Mason 
& Hamlin organs, has given thousands of strong men their 
initial impulse toward success. When you go from house to 
house to sell things you catch the household in their old 
clothes and the dog loose. To get your foot in the front door 
and thus avoid the slam, sweetening acerbity by asking the 
impatient housewife this question, "Is your mother at 



home?" and then making a sale, is an achievement Jb 
**The greatest study of mankind is man," said Pope, and 
for once he was right, although he might have said woman. 
^ From fifteen to nineteen is the formative period, when the 
cosmic cement sets, if ever. 

During those years George Peabody had emerged from a 
clerkship into a Business Man. QWhat is a Business Man? 
9 Listen, Terese, a business man is one 'whoj gets the business, 
and completes the transaction. Bookkeepers, correspondents, 
system men, janitors, scrubwomen, stenographers, elec- 
tricians, elevator-boys, cash-girls, are all good people and 
necessary and worthy of sincere respect, but they are not 
Business Men, because they are on the side|of expense and 
not income. 

When H. H. Rogers coupled the coal-mines of West Virginia 
with tide-water, he proved himself a Business Man. 
When James J. Hill created an Empire in the Northwest, 
he proved his right to the title. 
The Business Man is a salesman. 

And no matter how great your invention, how sweet your 
song, how sublime your picture, how perfect your card- 
system, until you are able to convince the world that it needs 
the thing, and you get the money for it, you are not a 
Business Man. 

The Business Man is one who supplies something great 
and good to the world, and collects from the world for the 
goods. Taffy, guff and oxaline are all good in their way, 
but they have the disadvantage of not being legal tender. 



P E A B D Y 

N migrating from New England 
to the District of Columbia, George 
Peabody had moved into a com- 
paratively foreign country, and 
in the process had sloughed most 
of his provincialism. It is beautiful 
to be a New Englander, but to be 
nothing else is terrible. 
George had proved for himself the 
most valuable lesson in Self- 
Reliance — that he could make 
his way alone. He had kept his 
credit and strengthened it. 

He had served as a volunteer soldier in the War of Eighteen 
Hundred Twelve, and done patrol duty on the banks of the 
Potomac Jt> ^ 

And when the war was over, no one was quite so glad as he. 
fl Serving in the volunteer ranks with him was one Elisha 
Riggs, several years his senior, and also a draper. They had 
met before, but as competitors, and on a cold business basis. 
Now they were comrades in arms, and friends. 
Riggs is today chiefly remembered to fame because he built 
what in its day was the most palatial hotel in Washington, 
just as John Jacob Astor was scarcely known outside of his 
bailiwick until he built that grand hostelry, the Astor House. 
Q Riggs had carried a pack among the Virginia plantations, 
but now he had established a wholesale dry-goods house in 
Georgetown, and sold only to storekeepers. He had felt the 



competitive force of Peabody*s pack, and would make friends 
with it ,>t ^ 

He proposed a partnership. 

Peabody explained that his years were but nineteen, and 
therefore he was not legally of age. 

Riggs argued that time would remedy the defect. Riggs was 
rich — he had five thousand dollars, while Peabody had one 
thousand six hundred fifty dollars and forty cents. I give the 
figures exact, as the inventory showed. 
But Peabody had one thing which will make any man or 
woman rich. It is something so sweetly beneficent that well 
can we call it the gift of the gods. 
The asset to which I refer is Charm of Manner. 
Its first requisite is glowing physical health J^ Its second 
ingredient is absolute honesty. Its third is good will. 
Nothing taints the breath like a lie. 

The old parental plan of washing the bad boy's mouth out 
with soft soap had a scientific basis. 

Liars must possess good memories. They are fettered and 
gyved by what they have said and done. The honest man is 
free — his acts require neither explanation nor apology. He 
is in possession of all of his armament. 
The outdoor work of tramping Maryland and Virginia high- 
ways had put the glow of high health on the cheek of George 
Peabody. He was big in body, manly, intelligent and could 
meet men on a basis of equality. If I were president of?a 
college, I would have a chair devoted to Psychic Mixability, 
or Charm of Manner ^ Ponderosity, profundity, and 



P E A B D Y 

insipidity may have their place, but the man with Charm 
of Manner keeps his capital active. His soul is fluid. I have 
never been in possession of enough of this Social Radium 
so to analyze it, but I know it has the power of dissolving 
opposition, and melting human hearts. But so delicate and 
illusive is it, that when used for a purely selfish purpose, it 
evaporates into thin air, and the erstwhile possessor is left 
with only the mask of beauty and the husk of a personality. 
q George Peabody had Charm of Manner from his nineteenth 
year to the day of his death. Col. Forney crossed the Atlantic 
with him when Peabody was in his seventy-first year, and 
here is what Forney says : " I sat on one side of the cabin 
and he on the other. He was reading from a book, which 
he finally merely held in his hands, as he sat idly dreaming. 
I was melted into tears by the sight of his Jove-like head 
framed against the window. His face and features beamed 
with high and noble intellect, and the eyes looked forth in 
divine love jt If ever soul revealed itself in the face, it was 
here. He was the very King of Men, and I did not wonder 
that in the past people had worked the apotheosis of such. " 



P E A B D Y 

HE firm of Riggs & Peabody 
prospered. It outgrew its quarters 
in old "Congress Hall'* in George- 
town, and ran over into a house 
next door, which it pre-empted. 
Moreover, it was apparent by this 
time that neither Georgetown 
nor Washington would ever be 
the commercial metropolis of 
America jt J^ 

The city of Baltimore had special 
harbor advantages that Washing- 
ton did not have ; the ships touched there according to natural 
law. And when Riggs & Peabody found themselves carting 
consignments to Baltimore so as to make shipment to 
Savannah and Charleston, they knew the die was cast. 
Q They packed up and moved to Baltimore. 
This was in the year Eighteen Hundred Fifteen. 
In order to do business you had better go to where business 
is being done. Trade follows the lines of least resistance J^ 
The wholesale dealer saw the value of honesty as a busi- 
ness asset, long before the retailer made the same unique 
discovery ^ ^ 

Dr. Algernon S. Crapsey says that truth is a brand-new 
virtue, and the clergy are not quite sure about it yet .^ 
To hold his trade the jobber found he had to be on the 
dead level: he had to consider himself the attorney for his 
client. Peabody was a merchant by instinct. He had good 



taste, and he had a prophetic instinct as to what the people 
wanted. Instead of buying his supplies in Newburyport, 
Boston and New York, he now established relations with 
London, direct J> And London was then the Commercial 
Center of the world, the arbiter of fashion, the molder of 
form, the home of finance — frenzied and otherwise jt 
Riggs & Peabody shipped American cotton to London, and 
received back the manufactured production in its manifold 
forms J' J> 

In Eighteen Hundred Twenty-nine Riggs withdrew from 
the firm, retaining a certain financial interest, merely, and 
Peabody forged to the front, alone, as a financier. 
For many years Peabody dealt largely with Robert Owen, 
and thus there grew up a close and lasting friendship between 
these very able men. Both were scouts for civilization. No 
doubt they influenced each other for good. We find them 
working out a new policy in business — the policy of reci- 
procity, instead of exploitation. 

Robert Owen always had almost unlimited credit, for he 
prized his word as the immediate jewel of his soul. It was 
exactly the same with Peabody. 

In Eighteen Hundred Twenty-seven Peabody visited Eng- 
land J' He was then thirty-two years old. The merchants 
from whom he bought discovered a surprising thing when 
they met Peabody — he was not the bounding, bragging, 
bustling, hustling, typical American. He hustled of course, 
but not visibly nor offensively. He had the appearance of 
a man who had all the time there was. He was moderate 


in voice and gentle in manner, and we hear of a London 
banker paying him the somewhat ambiguous compliment 
of saying, "Why, you know, he is a perfect gentleman — 
he does not seem like an American, at all, you know!" 
Peabody had the rare gift of never defeating his ends through 
haste and anxiety. 

The second trip Peabody made to London was in Eighteen 
Hundred Thirty-five, and it was on a very delicate and 
important errand. 

The State of Maryland was in sore financial distress. She 
had issued bonds and these were coming due ^ Certain 
Southern States had repudiated their debts, and it looked 
as if Maryland was going to default. 

Peabody issued an open letter calling upon the citizens of 
Maryland to preserve their commercial honor. The state 
bonds were held mostly in New York and Philadelphia, 
and these were rival cities. Baltimore was to be tabu ^ 
Stephen Girard had loaned money to Maryland, and in 
Eighteen Hundred Twenty-nine had declined to renew, 
and this some said had led to the stringency which reached 
its height in Eighteen Hundred Thirty-five. Then it was 
that the State of Maryland empowered George Peabody to 
go to London and negotiate a loan. The initiative was his 
own ejt jt, 

He went to London, and floated a loan of eight million 
dollars J^ Robert Owen said that Peabody borrowed the 
money "on his face." 

He invited a dozen London bankers to a dinner, and when 



the cloth was removed he explained the matter in such a 
lucid way that the moneybags loosened their strings and did 
his bidding without parley. Peabody sailed back to Baltimore 
with the gold coin. 
Another case of Charm of Manner ! 

Peabody knew the loan was a good thing to both borrower 
and lender. 

And the man who knows what he is going to do with money, 
and when and how he is going to pay it back, is never at a 
loss for funds. 

In Eighteen Hundred Ninety-three Andrew Carnegie called 
upon the banks of Pittsburgh for a million-dollar loan. The 
bankers said, **Why, Mr. Carnegie, this is unprecedented!*^ 
The reply was, "Well, I am a man who does unprecedented 
things. If you believe that I know what I am doing, get this 
money together for me — life is too short for apologies — PU 
be back in an hour." 

Three of the bankers coughed, one sneezed, but they got 
the money and had it ready when Andy called in an hour. 
^ In this transaction Andy held the whip-hand. The Carnegie 
Mills were already owing the Pittsburgh banks a tidy million 
or so, and they were compelled to uphold and support the 
credit of their clients, or run the risk of having smoke-stacks 
fall about their ears. 

It was so, in degree, with Peabody and the London bankers. 
A considerable portion of Maryland's old bond issue had been 
hypothecated by the Philadelphia and New York bankers 
with merchants in London. It was now Peabody's cue 


to show London that she must protect her own. His gracious 
presence and his logic saved the day. It is a great man who 
can flick a fly on the off -leader's ear, when occasion demands. 
C[ As a commission for securing the London loan, the State 
of Maryland gave Peabody a check for sixty thousand dollars. 
He endorsed the check, "Presented to the State of Maryland 
with the best wishes of G. Peabody, " and gave it back. 
Peabody*s success with Threadneedle Street tapped for him 
a reservoir of power. To bring Great Britain and America 
into closer financial and industrial relatipnship now became 
his life-work. In Eighteen Hundred Thirty-five he moved 
his principal oflice to London. This was for the purpose of 
facilitating the shipment of English goods to America. The 
English manufacturers were afraid to sell to American 
merchants ^ "Capital is timid," said Adam Smith, the 
truth of which many of us can attest. 
Peabody knew the trade of America; and his business now 
was to make advances to English jobbers on shipments 
gomg to "the States." Thus did he lubricate the wheels of 
trade ^ Jt> 

London bankers had been trying to show English manu- 
facturers that trading with the "American Colonies" was 
very risky, inasmuch as these "Colonies" were "rebels,** 
and entertained a hate and jealousy toward the Mother 
Country, which might manifest itself m repudiation most 
any time. 

This fanning of old embers was to keep up the rate of dis- 
count. The postage on a letter carried from England to 



America, or America to England, was twenty-five cents 
when Peabody first went to England J^ He saw the rate 
reduced to ten cents, and this largely through his own 
efforts e^ ^ 

Now we send a letter to Great Britain for two cents, or as 
cheaply as a letter can be sent from New York City to 
Yonkers J^ ^ 

Through the influence of George Peabody, more than any 
other man of his time, the two great countries grew to 
understand each other. 

The business of Peabody was to maintain the credit of 
America. To this end he made advances on shipments to 
the States. Where brokers had formerly charged ten per 
cent, he took five J^ And moreover, where he knew the 
American importer, he advanced to the full amount of the 
invoice ^ ^ 

He turned his money over four times a year, and thus got 
an interest on it of twenty per cent J> His losses averaged 
only one-half of one per cent. When he wanted funds he 
found no difficulty in borrowing at a low rate of interest 
on his own paper. 

The business was simple, easy, and when once started 
yielded an income to Peabody of from three hundred 
thousand to half a million dollars a year ^ And no one 
was more surprised than George Peabody, who had once 
worked for Sylvester Proctor of Danvers for four years, 
and at the end of that time been paid five dollars and given 
a suit of clothes! 


P E A B D Y 

EABODY lived and died a bachelor. 
^ Bachelors are of two kinds : 
There is the Rara Avis Other 
Sort; and the common variety 
known as the Bachelorum Vul- 
garis ^ The latter variety may 
always be recognized by its procliv- 
ity to trespass on the preserve of 
the Pshaw of Persia, thus lay- 
ing the candidate open to a suit for 
the collection of royalties. Beside 
^ that, the Bachelorum Vulgaris 
is apt to fall into the poison-ivy, lose his hair, teeth, charm 
and digestion, and die at the top. 

The other sort is wedded to his work — for man is a molecule 
in the mass and must be wedded to something. To be wedded 
to your work is to live long and well. 

For a man to wed a woman who has no interest in his work, 
and thus live his life in an orbit outside of hers, often causes 
the party to oscillate into the course followed by the Bache- 
lorum Vulgaris and the Honorable Pshaw, known as the 
Devil and the Deep Sea, and thus he completes the circle, 
revealing the Law of Antitheses, that the opposites of things 
are alike. 

The ideal condition is to be a bigamist, and wed a woman 
and your work at the same time. 

To wed a woman and be weaned from your work is a 
tragedy; to wed your work and eliminate the woman may 



spell success. If compelled to choose, be loyal to your work. 
As specimens of those who get along fairly well without either 
a feminine helpmeet or a sinker, I give you Michelangelo, 
Leonardo da Vinci, Titian, Sir Isaac Newton, Herbert Spencer 
and George Peabody. 

George Peabody was the true apostolic predecessor of Harry 
G. Selfridge, of Chicago and the round world, who has 
inaugurated American Merchandizing Methods in London, 
selling to the swells of Picadilly the smart suits created 
by Stein-Bloch. 

Unlike most men of wealth! and position, Peabody never 
assumed unusual importance nor demanded favors jft- In 
London, where he lived for thirty years, he resided in simple 
apartments, with no use for a valet nor the genus flunkey. 
^ He was grateful to servants, courteous to porters, thankful 
to everybody, always patient, never complaining of non- 
attention. He grew to be a favorite among the bus men who 
came to know him and sought to do him honor. 
The poor of London blessed Jhim as he walked by— with 
reasons, probably, not wholly' ^disinterested. 
He used no tobacco, never touched spirituous liquors, and 
at banquets usually partook of but a single dish. 
His first great gift was three million dollars to erect model 
tenements for the poor of London. The Peabody Apartments 
occupy two squares in Islington, and are worth a visit today, 
although they were built about Eighteen Hundred Fifty. 
€[ The intent was to supply a home for working people that 
was sanitary, wholesome and complete at a rental of exact 


cost. Peabody expected that his example would be imitated 
by the rich men of the nobility, and that squalor and indi- 
gence would soon become things of the past J' Alas, the 
Peabody Apartments only accommodate about a thousand 
people, and half a million or more of human beings live in 
abasing poverty and misery in London today. 
Excepting in a few instances, the nobility of London are 
devoid of the Philanthropic Spirit. 

In New York, the Mills Hotels are yet curiosities, and the 
model tenements exist mostly on paper jt Trinity Church 
with its millions draws an income today from property of 
a type which Peabody prophesied would not exist in the 
year Nineteen Hundred. 

One thing which Peabody did not bank on was the indiffer- 
ence of the poor to their surroundings, and the inherent taste 
for strong drink. He thought that if the rich would come to 
the rescue, the poor would welcome the new regime and be 
grateful J> The truth seems to be that the poor must help 
themselves, and that beautiful as philanthropy is, it is mostly 
for the philanthropist. 

The poor must be educated to secrete their surroundings, 
otherwise if you supply them a palace they will transform 
it into a slum, tomorrow. 

**The sole object of philanthropy," said Story the Sculptor, 
**is to model a face like George Peabody's." 
When the news reached America of what George Peabody, 
the American, was doing for London, there were many unkind 
remarks about his having forsaken his native land jt To 



equalize matters Peabody then gave three million dollars, 
just what he had given to London, for the cause of education 
in the Southern States. This money was used to establish 
schoolhouses. Wherever a town raised five hundred dollars 
for a school Peabody would give a like sum. 
A million dollars of the Peabody fund was finally used for 
a Normal School at Nashville. The investment has proved a 
wise and beneficent one. 

He next gave a million and a half dollars to found the 
Peabody Institute of Baltimore ,^ That this gift fired the 
heart of Peter Cooper to do a similar work, and if possible 
a better work, there is no doubt. 

At the first World's Fair held in London in Eighteen Hundred 
Fifty-one, Peabody gave fifteen thousand dollars toward the 
exhibition of American inventions, the chief of which at this 
time were the McCormick Reaper, Eli Whitney's Cotton Gin, 
and Colt's Revolver. 

Peabody backed Dr. Kane with a gift of twenty thousand 
dollars in his search for Franklin. He established various 
libraries; and gave a quarter of a million dollars to his 
native town for a Peabody Institute Jf Danvers has now 
disappeared from the map and the town is Peabody, a place 
of pilgrimage for those who reverence that American 
invention — a new virtue — the Art of Giving Wisely. 
Joshua Bates, through whose generosity Boston secured 
her Free Public Library, was an agent of Peabody's, and 
afterward his partner. Later, Bates became a member of 
the house of Barring Brothers, and carried on a business 


similar to that of George Peabody. There is no doubt 
that Bates got his philanthropic impulse from Peabody. 
^ In Eighteen Hundred Fifty-six Peabody visited his 
native town of Danvers after an absence of over forty 
years J^ There were great doings, in which all the school- 
children, as well as the Governor of the State, had a part. 
^ At Washington, Peabody was the guest of the President. 
The House of Representatives and the Senate adjourned 
their regular business to do him honor, and he made an 
address to them. The judges of the Supreme Court invited 
him to sit on the bench when he entered their Chamber. 
^ For twenty years he was America's unofficial Chief 
Representative in London, no matter who was Consul 
or who Ambassador. 

Every year on July Fourth he gave a dinner to the principal 
Americans who happened to be in London. To be invited 
to this dinner was an event ^ Peabody himself always 
presided, and there was considerable oratory sometimes 
of the brand known as Southwestern, which Peabody 
tolerated with gentle smiles. 

On one occasion, however, things did not go smoothly. 
Daniel Sickles was Consul to London and James Buchanan, 
afterwards our punkest President, was Ambassador. Sickles 
was a good man, but a fire-eater, and a gentleman of marked 
jingo proclivities. 

Sickles had asked that Buchanan preside, in which case 
Buchanan was to call on Sickles for the first toast, and 
this toast was to be **The President of the United States." 



At the same time Sickles intended to give the British lion's 
tail a few gratuitous twists. 

Peabody declined to accede to Sickles' wish, but he himself 
presided and offered the first, "To the Queen of England!" 
^ Thereupon, Sickles walked out with needless clatter, 
and Buchanan sat glued to his seat. 
The affair came near being an international episode. 
Peabody was always an American, and better, he was a 
citizen of the world. He loved America, but when on English 
soil, really guest of England, he gave the Queen the place 
of honor ^ This seems to us proper and right, and at this 
distance we smile at the whole transaction, but we are 
glad that Peabody, who paid for the dinner, had his way 
as to the oratorical guff. 

The Queen offered Peabody a Knighthood, but he declined 
saying that, "If Her Majesty write me a personal letter 
endorsing my desire to help the poor of London, I will be 
more than delighted." 

Victoria then wrote the letter, and she also had a picture of 
herself painted in miniature and gave it to him. The letter 
and portrait are now in the Peabody Institute at Peabody, 
Massachusetts J^ ^ 

When Peabody died in Eighteen Hundred Sixty-nine, Queen 
Victoria ordered that his body be placed in Westminster 
Abbey. The Queen in person attended the funeral, the flags 
on Parliament House were lowered to half-mast, and the 
body was attended to Westminster Abbey by the Royal 
Guard. Gladstone was one of the pall-bearers. 


Later, it was discovered that Peabody had devised in his 
will that his body should rest in Harmony Grove, the 
village cemetery at Danvers, by the side of his father and 
mother, and in a spot over which his boyish feet had trod. 
^ The body was then removed from the Abbey and placed 
on board the British man-of-war ** Monarch," in the 
presence of the Prime Minister, the Secretary of Foreign 
Affairs, and many distinguished citizens. The "Monarch" 
was convoyed to America by a French and an American 
gunboat J^ ^ 

No such honors have ever been paid to the memory of a 
simple American citizen. 

Well did the Rev. Newman Hall say, in his funeral oration : 
"George Peabody waged a war against want and woe. He 
created homes — he never desolated one ^ He sided with 
the friendless, the houseless, and his life was guided by a 
law of love which none could ever wish to repeal. His was 
the task of cementing the hearts of Briton and American, 
pointing both to their duty to God and to Hiunankind. ** 


Do You Want More 

of Elbert Hubbard's Good Stuff? You will find 
the Cream of his Pencil Products in his beautiful 
Magazine— THE ERA ^ ERA Sentences are 
Idea Seed, and sown on the fallow fields of a 
Thinking Mind, fructify into Profitable Thought. 
Cf It does not take an educated Man to read and 
appreciate THE ERA. But the Man who reads 
and appreciates THE ERA will not long remain 
uneducated. No lover of humanity who would 
benefit himself by ministering to mankind can 
afford to be^thout this monthly message of 
Hope, Enlightenment and Good Cheer. 

I am a writing man and I know the difficulties of the 
craft; and I say that Elbert Hubbard is the greatest 
writer — vocabulary and range of ideas considered— that 
the world has ever seen, ancient or modern. 


Young writers intent on style can :not do better than 
read Elbert Hubbard. He says big things in tabloid. 


Elbert Hubbard is the only man in America who has 
the English- language firmly by the tail. 




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^P ifjaiRS. HUBBARD here sets forth her 
aU U§- ideas with neither screech nor purr, 
^ — ^^^ as to what general line of action 
women should follow in order to gain 
the largest measure of good for them- 
selves and the world. Mrs. Hubbard 
believes in a like wage for a like serv- 
ice, and thinks that if women are 
ever free they must emancipate them- 
selves from the self-imposed bondage 
to dress, society and superstition. 
Q While the view can not be called strictly 
orthodox, yet the writer believes thai men are 
really no worse than women make them. 
The book is scarcely a soporific, and should not 
be ordered as a substitute for toast and tea. 

On Boxmoor, bound plainly in boards, printed 

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ever defeats 
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Where you 

can not drive you can al- 
ways persuade* A gentle 
word, a kind look, a good- 
natured smile can work 
wonders and accomplish 
m i r a c 1 cs.—H a z lit t 


HE prob- 
lem of civi- 
lization is 

to eliminate the 
parasite ^^ ^ ^ ^^ ^ 

Vol. 25 


No. 4 


no I HF HOIyt E^TTR 




>> i W A N 





— Theodore Parker 

Kntered at th€ poat-oace in Eist Aurora, New York, for transmission as second-class matter. 
Copyright, 19W, by Elbert Hubbard, Editor and Publisher. 

portable Mt£itrom 

The Proverb, Orphic, Epigram or Motto is a six-cylinder 
trxith, self-liibricating, on ball-bearings. It should con- 
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boys print some of the best on charcoal paper, and 
The Roycroft girls illumine' these by hand. A few of 
the workers, like Fra Baldini and Sister Asparagus, 
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This book is a regular little storehouse of wisdom for 
the collector and designer, or the cognoscenti who crave 
choice and unique decorations for office, school, den, 
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A Message to Garcia, How I Found My Brother, 
The Boy From Missouri Valley, Helpful Hints for 
Business Helpers, Get Out or Get In Line, The Cig- 
arettist. Pasteboard Proclivities, The RoycroftShop 
— A History, The Divine in Man, The Hubbard- 
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by Schneider of Fra Elbertus on Japan Paper. 
Suitable for Framing. 

Some of the above have been circulated into the millions 
by big business men, and been translated into many lan- 
guages. All are masterpieces of concise, direct and force- 
ful English. Several have been given as orations and 
declamations in Colleges. Cornell University last year 
gave two European Scholarships to students who de- 
claimed one of these essays. As effective Reading- Lessons 
in English Composition, they are today being used in 
hundreds of High Schools and Colleges. Whether you are 
a Business Man, Farmer, Student, Teacher, Lawyer, 
Doctor or Preacher, you can not afford to be ignorant of 
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Canadian Postage, forty cents extra. Foreign, sixty cents extra 

Health and Wealth - - - Elbert Hubbard 

Woman's Work - - - Alice Hubbard 

Battle of Waterloo - - - Victor Hugo 

White Hyacinths - - - Elbert Hubbard 

The Rubaiyat - - - . Omar Khayyam 

A William Morris Book - Hubbard and Thomson 

Crimes Against Criminals - Robert G. Ingersoll 

The Man of Sorrows ... Elbert Hubbard 

Bound Vol. Little Journeys - - Elbert Hubbard 

The Doctors ... - Fra Elbertus 

THE merchant of the future will not only be an economist 
and an industrial leader — he will be a teacher and a 
humanitarian.— A. T. STEWART, in a Letter to President 
Grant jt jt 



HEN His Excellency Wu Ting Fang 
was asked what country he would 
live in, if he had his choice, 
his unhesitating answer was, 

The reply brought forth another 
question, as his secretive and 
clever Excellency knew it would, 
namely, "Why?" 
"Because Ireland is the only 
country in the world in which 
the Irish have no influence." 
Also, it might be stated, although it has nothing to do 
with the case, that the Jews are very much more influential 
in New York City than they are in Jerusalem. The Turk is 
to Palestine what the English are to Ireland. 
The human product has to be transplanted in order to get 
the best results, just as the finest roses of California are 
slipped near Powers* Four Corners, Rochester, Monroe 
County, New York, and are then shipped to the West J(r 
A new environment means, often, spiritual power before 
unguessed. The struggle of the man to fit himself into a 
new condition and thus harmonize with his surrotmdings, 
brings out his latent energies and discovers for him untapped 
reservoirs ^ ^ 

It was Edmund Burke who said, "The Irish are all right, 
but you must catch them young." 

When England wants a superbly strong man she has to 



send to Ireland for him. Note Burke, her greatest orator; 
Swift, her greatest satirist; Goldsmith, her sweetest poet; 
Arthur Wellesley, her greatest fighter — not to mention 
Lord Bobs — all awfully Irish. 

And to America comes Alexander Turney Stewart, aged 
twenty, very Irish, shy, pink, blue of eye, with downy 
whiskers, intending to teach school until he could prepare 
himself for the **meenistry." 

It was the year Eighteen Hundred Twenty ; and at that time 
the stars of the Irish schoolmaster were in the ascendant. 
Por a space of forty years — say from Eighteen Hundred 
Five to Eighteen Hundred Forty-five — eighty per cent of 
all graduates of Trinity College, Dublin, came straight 
to America and found situations awaiting them. 
Young Stewart had been at Trinity College two years, 
when by the death of his grandfather he found himself 
without funds. His father died when he was three years 
old, and his grandparents took him in charge. His mother, 
it seems, married again, and was busy raising a goodly 
brood of Callahans, several of whom in after years came 
to New York, and were given jobs at the A. T. Stewart 

Young Stewart could have borrowed money to keep him 
in college, for he knew that when he was twenty-one he 
would come into an inheritance from his father's estate. 
However, on an impulse, he just sold his books, pawned 
his watch and bought passage for America, the land of 
promise J^ ^ 



The boy had the look of a scholar, and he had dignity, 
as shy folks often have. Also, he had a Trinity College 
brogue, a thing quite as desirable as a Trinity College 
degree. Later, A. T. Stewart lost his brogue, but Trinity 
College sent him all the degrees she had, including an 
LL. D., which arrived on his seventieth birthday. 
The Irish built our railroads, but Paddy no longer works 
on the section — he owns the railroad. Note the Harrimans, 
the Hanrahans, the McCreas, the McDougalls, the 0*Donnells> 
the 0*Days, the Hills — all just one generation removed from 
the bog, and the smell of peat-smoke still upon them. 
The Irish schoolmasters glided easily from taking charge 
of the school into taking charge of our municipal affairs 
— for a consideration — and their younger brothers, their 
cousins, their uncles and their aunts, found jobs yawning 
for them as soon as they had pushed past the gates of 
Castle Garden. 

One year of school-teaching in New York City, and A. T. 
Stewart reached his majority. He had saved just two 
hundred dollars of his salary; and he sailed away, back 
to Ould Ireland, a successful man. Now he would go 
back to Trinity and complete his course, and be glorified. 
He had proved his ability to meet the world on a fair footing 
and take care of himself. 

All of which speaks well for young Misther Stewart, and it 
also speaks well for his grandparents, who had brought 
him up in a good, sensible way to work, economize and 
keep a civil tongue in his Irish head. His grandfather did n't 



exactly belong to the gentry — it was better than that — he 
was an Irish clerque who had become a scrivener, and then 
risen to a professorship. 

A. T. Stewart was heir to a goodly amount of decent pride, 
which always kept him in the society of educated people, 
and made him walk with the crown of his head high and 
his chin in. He thought well of himself — and the world is 
very apt to take a man at his own estimate. 
A year in **The States" had transformed the young man 
from a greenhorn into a gentleman. The climate of the 
West had agreed with him. He himself told how on going 
back to Belfast the city seemed to have grown smaller and 
very quiet J^ He compared everything to Broadway, and 
smiled at a jaimting-car compared to a 'bus. 
When he went to Trinity College, and saw his class, from 
whom he had parted only a year before, all thought of 
remaining two years to graduate faded from his mind. 
^ An ocean seemed to divide him from both teachers 
and pupils. The professors were stupid and slow; the pupils 
were boys — he was a man. They, too, felt the difference, 
and called him **Sir." And when one of them introduced 
him to a Freshman as **an American," Freshy bowed low, 
and the breast of A. T. Stewart expanded with pride. Not 
even the offer of a professorship could have kept him in 
Ireland. He saw himself the principal of an American College, 
"filling" the pulpit of the college chapel on Sunday, pictur- 
ing the fate of the unregenerate in fiery accents. The Yankee 
atmosphere had made him a bit heady. 


A . 

T . 


The legacy left him by his grandfather was exactly one 

thousand pounds — five thousand dollars. What to do with 

this money, he did not know! Anjrway he would take it to 

America and wisely invest it. 

In New York he had boarded with an Irish family, of which 

the head of the house was a draper. This man had a small 

store on West Street, and Alexander had helped tend store 

on Saturdays, and occasionally evenings when ships came 

in and sailors with money to waste lumbered and lubbered 

past, often with gaily-painted galleys in tow. 

The things you do at twenty are making indelible marks 

on your character. Stewart had no special taste for trade, 

but experience spells power — potential or actual. 

With five thousand dollars in his belt, all in gold, he felt 


And so on a ventiure he expended half of it in good Irish 

lace, insertions and scallop trimmings. Irish linens, Irish 

poplins and Irish lace were being shipped to New York — 

itjcould not be a loss! He would follow suit. If he was 

robbed of his money he could not at the same time be 

robbed of the drapery. 

And so he sailed away for New York — and Ireland looked 

more green and more beautiful as the great uplifting green 

hills faded from sight and were lost to view in the mist jt 



N the ship that carried Stewart 
back to New York was a young 
man who professed to be an 
adept in the draper's line. Very 
naturally, Stewart got acquainted 
with this man, and told him of 
his investment in dry-goods. The 
man offered to sell the stock for 
Stewart J> ^ 

In those days the Irish pedler 
with his pack full of curious and 
wonderful things was a common 
sight at the farmhouses. He rivaled both Yankee-Gentile 
and Jew, and his blarney was a commodity that stood him 
in good stead. 

Stewart's new-found friend promised to sell the stock in 
short order, by going right out among the people. He had 
no money of his own, and Stewart was doubly pleased to 
think he could set a worthy man up in business, and help 
himself at the same time. 

On reaching New York, the friend was fitted out with all 
the goods he could carry, and duly headed for New Jersey. 
fl In two days he came back. He had sold most of the goods 
all right, and with the money gotten gloriously drunk; also 
he had bought drinks for all the Irishmen he could find, and 
naturally they were many. 

Stewart even then did not give up the case. He rented a small 
store at Two Hundred Eighty-three Broadway, and decided 



that by staying close to his friend he could keep him in the 

straight and narrow path of probity. As for himself he would 

teach school as usual ; and he and his agent could use the 

back of the little store for a sleeping-room. 

It was a week before his school was to begin, but in that 

week he became convinced that his friend was not a 

merchant, and to get that first month's rent he would 

have to run the store himself. 

So he put the disciple of Bacchus on the slide, and started 

in alone. ^Stewart had a little inconvenient pride which 

prevented his turning pedler. 

Instead of going to the world he would bring the world to 

him. With this end in view the New York Daily Advertiser 

for September Second, Eighteen Hundred Twenty-five, 

contained this notice: 

A. T. Stewart, just arrived from Belfast, offers for sale 
to the Ladies of New York a choice selection of Fresh 
Dry-Goods at Two Hundred Eighty-three Broadway. 

The advertisement was a good one — the proof of which was 

that many puffick ladies called to see the stock and the man 

just arrived from Belfast. 

Stewart was a wise advertiser. His use of the word "Ladies" 

showed good psychology. 

The young merchant had n't much more than taken down 

his shutters before a lady entered the store and acknowledged 

she was one. She lived in the next block, and as soon as she 

read the advertisement in the paper, yet damp from the press, 

she came right over. 



Stewart spread out his wares with shaking hands — he must 
make a sale to his first caller or he would never have luck. 
The lady bought "scallops" and lace to the extent of two 
dollars, on Stewart's throwing her in gratis sundry yards 
of braid, a card of buttons and a paper of hooks and eyes. 
^ The woman paid the money, and A. T. Stewart was 
launched, then and there, on a career. ^ He was a handsome 
young fellow — intelligent, and never too familiar, but just 
familiar enough. Women liked him; he was so respectful, 
almost reverent, in his attitude toward them. 
It took a better man to be a salesman then than now ^ 
Every article was marked in cipher, with two prices. One 
figure represented what the thing cost and the other was 
the selling-price ^ You secxxred the selling-price, if you 
could, and if you could n't, you took what you could get, 
right down to the cost figure. The motto was, never let a 
customer go without selling him something. The rule now 
is to sell people what they want, but never urge any one 
to buy ^ J^ 

Both buyer and seller then enjoyed these fencing-bouts 
of the bazaar. The time for simple dealing between man 
and man had not yet come. To haggle, banter and blarney 
were parts of the game, and parts which the buyer demanded 
asfhis right. He would only trade at places where he thought 
he was getting the start of the dealer and where his cleverness 
had an opportunity for exercise ^ The thought of getting 
something for nothing was in the air, and to get the better 
of somebody was regarded as proper and right. 


Had a retail dealer then advertised One Price and no 
deviation to any one, the customers would surely have 
given him absent treatment Ji> The verbal fencing, the 
forays of wit, the clash of accusation and the final forlorn 
sigh of surrender of the seller, were things which the buyer 
demanded as his, or more properly her right. 
Often these encounters attracted interested bystanders, 
who saw the skilful buyer berate the seller and run down 
his goods, until the poor iman, abjectjand undone, gave 
up. To get the better of the imale man and force him to 
his knees is the pleasant diversion of a certain type of 
feminine mind. Before marriage the jwoman always, I 
am told, takes this high-handed attitude. Perhaps she 
dimly realizes that her time for tyranny is short Jt> To 
make the man a suppliant is the delight of her soul. After 
marriage the positions are reversed. But in the good old 
days, most women, not absolutely dessicated by age or 
ironed out by life's vicissitudes, found a sort of secondary 
sexual delight in these shopping assaults on the gentlemanly 
party on the other side of the counter. 
We have all seen women enter into heated arguments, 
and indulge in a half-quarrel with attractive men, about 
nothing. If the man is wise he allows the woman to force 
him into a comer, where he yields with a grace, ill-concealed, 
and thus is he victor, without the lady knowing it. This is a 
sort of salesmanship that Sheldon knows nothing of, and 
that, happily, is, for the most part, not yet obsolete. A. T. 
Stewart was a natural salesman of the old school. He was a 



success from the very start. He was tall ; he had good teeth, a 
handsome face, a graceful form and dressed with exquisite care. 
flXhis personal charm of manner was his chief asset. And 
while business then was barter, and the methods of booth and 
bazaar prevailed, Stewart was wise enough never to take 
advantage of a customer, regarding either price or quality. 
If the buyer held off long enough she might buy very close 
to cost, but if she bought quickly and at Stewart^s figures, 
he had a way of throwing in a yard of ribbon, or elastic, 
or a spool or two of thread, all unasked for, that equalized 
the transaction. He seems to have been the very first man in 
trade to realize that to hold your trade you must make a 
friend of the customer. In a year he had outgrown the little 
store at Two Hundred Eighty-three Broadway, and he moved 
to a larger place at Two Hundred Sixty-two Broadway J- 
Then came a new store, built for him by a worthy real-estate 
owner, John Jacob Astor, by name. 

This store was thirty feet wide, one hundred feet deep, and 
three stories high, with a basement. 
It was a genuine Dry-Goods Store. 

It had a ladies' parlor on the second floor, and a dressing- 
room with full-length mirrors, ordered from Paris J> 
They were the first full-length mirrors in America, and 
A. T. Stewart issued a special invitation to the ladies of 
New York to come and see them and see themselves as 
others saw them. To arrange these mirrors so that a lady 
could see the buttons on the back of her dress was regarded 
as the final achievement of legerdemain. 
1 06 


The A. T. Stewart store was a woman's store ^ In hiring 
salesmen the owner picked only gentlemen of presence. 
The "floor-walker** had his rise in A. T. Stewart. Once a 
woman asked a floor-walker this question, **Do you keep 
stationery?** and the answer was, "If I did Td never draw 
my salary.** This is a silly story and if it ever happened, 
it did not transpire at A. T. Stewart*s. There the floor-walker 
was always as a cow that is being milked. For the first 
fifteen years of his career Stewart made it a rule to meet 
and greet every customer, personally. 
The floor-walker — or "head usher,** as he was called — was 
either the proprietor or his personal representative. 
Stewart never offered to shake hands with a customer, no 
matter how well he knew the lady, but bowed low, and 
with becoming gravity and gentle voice inquired her wishes. 
He then conducted her to the counter where the goods she 
wanted were kept. As the clerk would take down his goods 
Stewart had a way of reproving the man thus: "Not that, 
Mr. Johnson, not that — you seem to forget whom you are 
waiting on!** 

When the lady left, Stewart accompanied her to the door. 
He wore a long beard, shaved his upper lip, and looked like 
a Presbyterian clergyman making pastoral calls. 
Silks, dress-goods and laces gradually grew to be the A. T. 
Stewart specialties. That the man had taste and never ran 
stripes around a stout lady, or made a very slim one look 
more so, is a matter of history. "I have been hoping you 
would come, for we have a piece of silk that seems to have 


A . 



been made for you. I ordered it put aside until you could see 
it. Mr. Johnson, that silk pattern, please, that I told you not 
to show to any one until Mrs. Brevoort called. Thank you ; 
yes, that is the one." 

Then there were ways of saying, "Oh, Mr. Johnson, you 
remember the duplicate of that silk-dress pattern which 
was made for Queen Victoria — I think Mrs. Astor would 
like to examine it ! '* ^Thus was the subtle art of compliment 
fused with commerce and made to yield a dividend. 

HE prevailing methods in trade 
are always keyed by the public. 
The merchant is a part of the public ; 
he ministers to the public. A public 
that demands a high degree of 
honesty and unselfish service will 
get it. Sharp practise and double- 
dealing among the people find an 
outcrop in public affairs. Rogues 
in a community will have no 
trouble in finding rogue lawyers 
to do their bidding. In fact, rogue 
clients evolve rogue attorneys. Foolish patients evolve fool 
doctors. And superstition'and silliness in the pew find a fitting 
expression in the pulpit. 


The first man in New York to work the "Cost-Sale" scheme 
was A. T. Stewart. In Eighteen Hundred Thirty he advertised : 
"Mr. A. T. Stewart, having purchased a large amount of 
goods soon to arrive, is obliged, in order to make room for 
these, to dispose of all the stock he has on hand, which will 
be sold at Actual Cost, beginning Monday at eight A. M. 
Ladies are requested to come early and avoid the crush.** 
^ At another time he advertised: "A. T. Stewart is obliged 
to raise a large amount of money to pay for silks and dress- 
goods that are now being made for him in Europe. To secure 
this money he is obliged to hold a Cost Sale of everything 
in his store. This sale will begin Friday at noon, and end 
at midnight on Saturday, the day after.** 
Stewart also had "Fire Sales,** although it speaks well for 
himself that he never had a fire in his own store. If others 
had fires he was on hand to buy the salvage, and whether 
he bought it or not he managed to have a "Fire Sale.** 
He loved the smoke of commercial rhetoric, and the excite- 
ment of seeing the crowd. This applies more particularly to 
the first twenty years of his career. 

During those first years he used to have a way of opening 
cases on the sidewalk and selling from the case to the first 
person who made an offer. This brought him good luck, 
especially if the person had cross-eyes or was a hunchback. 
The messy clutter in front of the store and the pushing 
crowds advertised the business. ^Finally, a competitor next 
door complained to the police about Stewart*s blocking the 
sidewalk. The police interfered and Stewart was given one 



day to clear off the walk. At once he put up a big sign: "Our 
neighbors to the right, not being able to compete with us, 
demand that we shall open no more goods on the sidewalk. 
To make room we are obliged to have a Cost Sale. You buy 
your goods, pay for them and carry them away — we can*t 
even afford to pay for wrapping-paper and string. " 
All this tended to keep the town awake, and the old Irish 
adage of "Where McGinty sits is the head of the table" 
became true of A. T. Stewart. His store was the center of 
trade. When he moved, the trade moved with him. 
To all charitable objects he gave liberally. He gave to all 
churches, and was recognized as a sort of clergyman himself, 
and in his dress he managed to look the part. 
The ten per cent off to clergymen and school-teachers was 
his innovation. This ten per cent was supposed to be his 
profit, but forty per cent would have been nearer it J' Of 
course the same discount had to be given to any member 
of a clergyman's or a teacher's family. And so we hear of one 
of Stewart's cashiers saying, "Over half of the people in 
New York are clergymen or teachers." The temptation to 
pass one's self off for a clergyman at Stewart's was a bait 
that had no lure when you visited Girard College. 
All this was but a part and parcel of the times — an index of 
the Zeitgeist. Bear-baiting, dog-fighting and open gambling 
had given way to milder excitements, and the sweet desire 
to smuggle or get an unauthorized discount was the lingering 
joy of the chase. 


T . 


R^ :t 

BOUT lEighteen Hundred Sixty, 
the **Cost Sales" which took place 
at Stewart's, usually twice a year, 
gave way to "Remnant Sales." 
This meant to the buyer that she 
bought all that was left of the 
piece. In many instances this was 
so, bu t in the main, not. 
Experience had shown that a buyer 
bought at a purchase a certain 
"number of yards of sheeting, 
toweling /or| dress-goods. Antici- 
pating the Remnant Sale, the whole|Stewart force would 
work all night cutting up cloth and preparing remnants of 
a kind and quantity to catch the average buyer. The piece 
or remnant was marked in^'plain figures, and here there 
was no bidding and no haggle. The trade was made quickly 
or not at all. Occasionally, the receipts on a Remnant Sale 
would run up to a hundred thousand dollars in a single day. 
This was only possible through''one}price and rapid trading, 
with all the fiction of barter [eliminated. 
And it did one great thing -.fitf^forced upon the growing 
intelligence of the world that\the One-Price System was 
a big economizer of time and|]money, and was to the best 
interests of both buyer and seller Ji> The seller could do 
more business in the same space. ^Much friction was avoided, 
since the seller in the days of haggle"always had the best of 
It: He pitted his experience and knowledge against that of 



the buyer. This clash of minds required a salesman of superior 
ability, and if the buyer was not also clever there was great 
danger of his being cheated. 

There has been considerable argument as to who introduced 
the One-Price System. The fact is that the righteousness of 
the idea gradually became racial. It was in the air. Buyer and 
seller alike had come to feel a dissatisfaction with the old 
methods of "dog eat dog." 

A. T. Stewart used to stand his salesmen up in line and give 
them lectures on the proper way to handle customers. One 
thing he used to say was this: "You will deal with ignorant, 
opinionated and innocent people. You will often have an 
opportunity to cheat them. If they could, they would cheat 
you, or force you to sell at less than cost. You must be wise, 
but not too wise d'' You must never actually cheat the 
customer, even if you can. If she pays the full figure, present 
her a hank of dress-braid, a card of buttons, a pair of shoe- 
strings. You must make her happy and satisfied, so she will 
come back.*' 

Honesty as a business asset was being realized, but the 
salesman had to think twice and hard, often, in order to 
be fairly decent. Women would buy an article and then 
hearing that a neighbor had bought for less would come back 
and levy blackmail, demanding a comb or a yard of lace 
as the price of peace. 

Then it was, about the year Eighteen Hundred Sixty-five, 
that John Wanamaker, a young merchant of Philadelphia, 
cut the Gordian knot by boldly advertising, "One Price, 


A . 

T . 


always and forever, and your money back, if not satisfied." 

^ It was a heroic and daring thing to do. It lessened the 

work of shopping immensely ; it reduced the toil of salesmen ; 

it saved time for everybody. Moreover, there was a saving 

in salaries of salesmen, since a person of moderate experience 

could now wait on customers. Women were hired, and girls 

were used where before only men grown gray could be trusted 

to parry the thrust of the buyer. 

The plan worked. 

And A. T. Stewart, who had his finger on the pulse of the 

world of trade, sent one of his lieutenants over to Philadelphia 

to investigate. 

The man handed in a written report and gave it as his opinion 

that the One-Price System had come to stay. 

And A. T. Stewart soon adopted it as a part of the working 

policy of the Business Palace. 

It will not do to say that John Wanamaker invented the 

One-Price System in retail trade, but it is a fact that he was 

the first man to put it into execution, and widely advertise 

it. A. T. Stewart taught John Wanamaker a great many 

things, and it is very certain that John Wanamaker taught 

A. T. Stewart at least one. 



T. STEWART was alive, alert and 
sensitive to the spirit of the times. 
He kept abreast with the best 
thought of the best people. The 
idea of opening boxes and bales 
on the sidewalk was abandoned 
early in the game; and the en- 
deavor was to show the fabric 
only under the most favorable 
conditions. Stewart was reaching 
out |for a higher clientele. The 
motto became, "Not how cheap, 
but how good." 

If A. T. Stewart sold goods at an average proj&t of, say, 
thirty per cent, he could well afford to sell a small portion 
of his stock at cost, or even at ten per cent below cost. He 
knew his stocks, and he made it a point never to carry goods 
over from one year to another. 

Before he held one of his famous '*Cost Sales," he would 
personally work all night, taking down from the shelves 
and out of drawers and show-cases everything in the store. 
Then he himself would dictate what each article should be 
sold for. Here was exercise for a mind that worked by 
intuition J> Ji> 

The master decided instantly on how much this thing would 
bring J^ jt 

In railroad managing there are two kinds of making rates. 
One is the carefully figured-out cost of transportation. The 


other plan is to make a rate that will move the tonnage J' 
A regular passenger rate is the rate that will afford a profit. 
An "excursion rate,'* a "homeseekers* rate,'* an ** old-home 
rate," is the one that experience shows is necessary to tempt 
people to travel. 

Dry-goods deteriorate in quality when kept on the shelves for 
several months. Worse than that, they cease to attract the 
buyers. People go where there is life, activity, and are moved 
by that which is youthful, new and fresh ^ Old stocks 
become dead stocks, and dead stocks mean dead business 
and dead men — bankruptcy. 

When it came to selling old stocks, Stewart paid no attention 
to the cost. He marked the tag in big, plain figures in red ink 
at the price he thought would move the goods. And usually 
he was right. 

We hear once of his marking a piece of dress-goods forty-nine 
cents a yard. A department salesman came and in alarm 
explained that the goods cost fifty-three. 
"That has nothing to do with the case," replied Stewart; 
"we would not buy it today at fifty-three, and we do not 
want the stuff on our shelves even at forty-nine." 
"But," said the manager, "this is a Cost Sale, and if we 
sell below cost we should explain that fact to the customers." 
Q And the answer was, "Young man, you must tell the 
customer only what she will believe. The actual truth is 
for ourselves." 

Stewart worked for an average of profit and this he secured. 
His receipts mounted steadily year by year, until in Eighteen 




Hundred Fifty they were ten thousand dollars a day. In 
Eighteen Hundred Sixty they were over twenty thousand 
dollars a day. And when he moved into his Business Palace 
at Astor Place, Tenth Street and Broadway, the sales jumped 
to an average of over fifty thousand dollars a day. 

HEN A. T. Stewart built his Busi- 
ness Palace in Eighteen Hundred 
Sixty-five, it was the noblest busi- 
ness structure in America. 
Much of the iron used in it was 
supplied by Peter Cooper, and that 
worthy man was also consulted 
as to the plans. 

Just a square away from Stewart's 
Business Palace stands Cooper 
Union ^ J- 
In selecting this location A. T. 

Stewart was influenced largely by the fact that it was 

so near to that center of art and education which Peter 

Cooper had made world-wide in fame. 

Stewart said, "My store shall vie with your museum, and 

people will throng it as they do an exposition." 

And his prophecy proved true. 

At his death in Eighteen Hundred Seventy-six Stewart was 


the richest man in New York, save an Astor and a Vanderbilt, 

and these had mherited their wealth — wealth made through 

the rise of real estate, while Stewart had made his money in 

legitimate trade. 

A. T. Stewart was worth forty million dollars. 

This vast estate was mostly frittered away, honey-combed 

and moth-eaten, by hungry attorneys. 

The business was carried on by Hessians who worked both 

ends against the middle, and let the estate foot the deficits. 

^ A. T. Stewart had a genius for trade, but he had no gift 

for giving. The world needs a school for millionaires, so 

that, since they can not take their millions with them, they 

can learn to leave their money wisely and well. 

After an up-and-down — mostly down — career of a decade, 

the Business Palace was bought by John Wanamaker, who 

no doubt felt a thrill of delight on coming into possession 

of a business that years before had been to him an inspiration. 

^ Mr. Wanamaker placed his trusted lieutenant, that very 

able man, Robert C. Ogden, in charge. 

The scattered forces were reformed, and new goods, new 

methods and live men brought the buyers back, penitent. 

Again, and almost instantly, the Business Palace became 

a center of light and education, and the splendid aisles that 

a generation before had known the tread of the best people 

of Manhattan, again felt their step. 

When Stewart built the Business Palace, people said, **0h, 

it is too far uptown — nobody will go there." 

But they were wrong. 



When John Wanamaker moved in, many said, **0h, it 's 
beautiful — but you know, it is too far down town — nobody 
will go there." 

And these were as wrong as the first. 

"Where McGinty sits is the head of the table." The trade 
siphoned itself thither under the magic name of Wanamaker 
as though the shade of A. T. Stewart had been summoned 
from its confines in the Isles of Death. 
In Stewart's day no sign had been placed on the building. 
He said, ** Everybody will know it is A. T. Stewart's!" And 
they did. After his death the place was plastered with signs 
that called in throaty falsetto at the passer-by, like eager 
salesmen on the Midway who try to entice people to enter. 
The new management took all these signs down, and by 
the main entrance placed a modest tablet carrying this 
inscription ; 

John Wanamaker 
Successor to 
A. T. Stewart 

It was a comment so subtle that it took New York a year 
to awaken to its flavor of tincture of iron. 
That little sign reminds one of how once Disraeli was 
dining with an American and two other Englishmen. In 
the course of the conversation the American proudly let 
slip the information that he traced a pedigree to parents 
who came to America in the Mayflower. 
One of the Englishmen here coughed, and vouchsafed 
the fact that he traced a lineage to Oliver Cromwell. 


A little pause followed, and the other guest spat, muzzled 
his modesty, and said he traced to William the Conqueror. 
^ Disraeli, with great deliberation, made a hieroglyphic on 
the table-cloth with his fork and said, "And I trace a 
pedigree to Moses, who walked and talked with God on 
Mount Sinai, fifteen centuries before the birth of Christ." 
John Wanamaker leaped the gulf of twenty years and 
traced direct to A. T. Stewart, as well he might, for it was 
Stewart's achievement that had first fired his imagination 
to do and become. 

A. T. Stewart was the greatest merchant of his time. And 
John Wanamaker has been not only a great merchant, but a 
teacher of merchants. And the John Wanamaker Stores 
now form a High School of economic industrialism. 
John Wanamaker is still teaching, tapping new reservoirs 
of power as the swift-changing seasons pass. As a preacher 
and a teacher he has surely surpassed the versatile Stewart. 
^ The Stewart Business Palace proved too small to 
accommodate the tide of trade that so soon set in the 
Wanamaker direction J^ Adjoining the Stewart store 
another Business Palace has been built, towering far 
above its sturdy little parent. The New Wanamaker Store 
is sixteen stories high. The Stewart store is five stories, 
which Peter Cooper said was as high as it was possible 
to build with safety. 

A. T. Stewart left no successor after the flesh ; but Rodman 
Wanamaker, the son of John Wanamaker, is the practical 
working manager of the Philadelphia Wanamaker Stores 



and will be his father's successor in all his business. 
^ I am glad to discover Rodman Wanamaker and give him 
to the world. He has been so thrown into the shadow by 
his picturesque and many-sided father that the world 
knows little or nothing of him ^ And this is just what 
Rodman Wanamaker has desired. My idea is that he 
should now walk out into the lime-light ^ Rodman 
Wanamaker is a man of, say, forty — strong, earnest, 
capable, poised, competent. He is so big that he asks for 
no recognition — no applause — no bouquets. His name 
has neither been bulletined on Wall Street nor featured 
in the Police Gazette ^ He does his work and holds his 
peace. He is that rare being, an economist who is also 
an educator. Stewart was a great man, but in his love for 
the race Rodman Wanamaker is a greater one. 
Of course, there are very many able men at the head of 
the Wanamaker departments ; but superb skill as a general 
is shown in the selection and management of these marshals. 
^ John Wanamaker built on the methods of A. T. Stewart. 
He invented that water-tight compartment plan of business 
known as the Department Store. He banked all and won 
on the One-Price System. ^ But in the final evolution of the 
Wanamaker business let a modicum of the credit go to that 
tireless worker of whom the world sees and knows so little — 
Rodman Wanamaker, educator, economist, conservator and 
humanist. ^ Napoleon won his battles with his marshals. 
But behind the marshals was the master mind. His restless 
spirit animated theirs. 



Napoleon produced in his army a something which he 

called an "Esprit de Corps," and thereby did he prove 

his greatness. 

Without this Esprit de Corps, he said, he would have been 

defeated from the first ; and when at last he met his Waterloo 

it was because the Esprit de Corps was lacking. A grand 

game of grab and graft had begun; it was a clutch for 

personal perquisites and honors. The eagles of France 

were secondary. 

In all big institutions that win their way to success there 

must be an Esprit de Corps — a oneness of aim, intent, 

desire and ambition. 

At John Wanamaker's there is an animating spirit which 

I call Esprit de Store! 

The place is permeated with a motive — it has a soul. This 

motive is to serve the buyer — to anticipate his needs, and 

supply him the necessary and beautiful things of life at 

the lowest possible margin of profit. 

There seems to be a fine, friendly relation between salesmen 

and customers which constitutes a sort of Big Wanamaker 

Family Ji> Jt> 

It is part of this Esprit de Store to speak well of everybody, 

if you mention him at all. Wanamaker clerks speak no ill 

of competitors. They speak well of each other, and think 

well of each other. 

Another element in this Esprit de Store is a continual restless 

desire to do it better! 

Nothing is ever quite good enough. 



The entire spirit of the place works toward eliminating waste 
motion. I find here no bigwig bosses — no costly figure-heads 
— no fuss and feathers ^ Everybody works and all work 
cheerily jl^ ^ 

succeed in business today it is 
not enough that you should look 
out for Number One: you must 
also look out for Number Two. 
that is, you must consider the 
needs of the buyer and make his 
interests your own. 
To sell a person something he 
does not want, or to sell him 
something at a price above its 
actual value, is a calamity — for 
the seller. 

Business is built on confidence. We make our money out 
of our friends — our enemies will not trade with us. 
In law the buyer and the seller are supposed to be people 
with equal opportunity to judge of an article and pass on 
its value. 

Hence there is a legal maxim. Caveat emptor — **Let the 
buyer beware" — and this provides that when an article 
is once purchased and passes into the possession of the 



buyer it is his, and he has no redress for short weight, 
count or inferior quality. 

Behind that legal Latin maxim, Caveat Emptor, the 
merchant stood for centuries, safely entrenched. 
It was about Eighteen Hundred Sixty-five that it came 
to John Wanamaker, a young merchant just starting 
business in Philadelphia, that the law is wrong in assuming 
that buyer and seller stand on a parity, and have an equal 
opportunity for judging of values. The dealer is a specialist, 
while the buyer, being a consumer of a great number of 
different things, has only a general knowledge, at best jt 
The person with only a general idea as to values, pitted 
against a trained specialist, is at a great disadvantage. 
^ Therefore, to be on ethical ground the seller must be 
the friend of the buyer — not his antagonist. For a seller 
to regard the buyer as his prey is worse than non-ethical 
— it is immoral — a violation of the Golden Rule. 
Moreover, it is a poor business policy. 
You must treat people so they will come back. 
There is no advertisement equal to a pleased customer. 
^ These things came to the young man, John Wanamaker, 
with a great throb and thrill. Many had taken this view, 
but where was the merchant who had ever thought it possible 
to do a big retail business on this basis? 
And at once John Wanamaker put his theories into exe- 
cution, and on them his business was founded. The One-Price 
System — all goods marked in plain figures — and money back 
if not satisfied, these things were to revolutionize the retail 



trade of the world. ^The plan worked — it paid — the John 
Wanamaker business increased — and a few merchants all 
over the country began to adopt the plan. 
The second great epoch in the life of John Wanamaker was 
when he inaugurated the great store in Philadelphia covering 
a block, in Eighteen Hundred Seventy-six, which was known 
as the Grand Depot because it was lodged in the Pennsyl- 
vania Freight Sheds. This great business innovation was 
actually a rival of the Centennial Exposition. 
Indeed, many merchants from all over America went to 
Philadelphia to see the great store of John Wanamaker, 
and incidentally they attended the Exposition. 
The third great epoch in the life of John Wanamaker was 
when he purchased the A. T. Stewart "Palace of Business'* 
at Broadway and^ Tenth Street, New York City. 
Now comes the fourth great epoch in the life of this tireless 
and restless man: He has transformed the A. T. Stewart 
Palace of Business and its adjoining new sixteen-story 
building into a Business Exposition, that really outstrips 
that epoch-maker, the Centennial Exposition. 
The A. T. Stewart building is a "Woman's Store," devoted 
to woman's wants. 

The first floor of the new building is a "Man's Store." The 
remaining fifteen stories of the new building are "Galleries, " 
wherein are displayed the wonders of the loom, mine, forest, 
and farm, from every corner of the globe, with all that talent, 
skill and human ingenuity can add or invent, in bronze, 
marble, canvas, fabric or textile. 


Here is shown all that civilization demands for its comfort, 
necessity, luxury or delectation. The "Department Store" has 
gone with the things that were, or lingers on the outskirts. 
The Galleries of Art and Industry are here. 
This is the new John Wanamaker Idea — it is the crowning 
achievement of a great and useful life. However, I believe it 
is not the last innovation, for the Wanamaker spirit of "noble 
discontent" seems perennial. 

He who has not seen this new educational departure 
represented by the New York Wanamaker Exposition, 
does not know his America; he is moored to the past, 
and is not afloat and free upon the tide of the times jt 
Are the items and articles on exhibition for sale? Yes, and 
all marked in plain figures, with the guaranty of your money 
back if not satisfied. But you are not importuned to buy jt 
The place is an unforgettable object-lesson for young and 
old in what man hath wrought. 

John Wanamaker, of all men in America, seems to know 
that to stand still is to retreat. For over forty years he has 
led the vanguard of the business world. 
He has been a teacher of merchants. His insight, initiative, 
originality, and prophetic judgment have set the retailers 
of the world a pace. Many have learned much from him, 
and all have been influenced by him. Whether they knew 
it or not, and whether they would acknowledge it if they 
did know it, matters little. 

Professor Zueblin says of William Morris: "Not a well- 
furnished house in Christendom, but that shows the influence 

T . 


of his good taste and his gracious ideas of economy, harmony 
and honesty in home decoration. ** 

Likewise, we can truthfully say that there is not a successful 
retail store in America that does not show the influence of 
A. T. Stewart and his legitimate successor,John Wanamaker. 


Elbert Hubbard will give his New Lecture 

INDIANAPOLIS, IND .— The Propylaeum, 
Wednesday evening, Nov. 3d, eight o'clock. 

ST. LOUIS, MO.— Memorial Hall, Friday 
evening, Nov. 5th, eight o'clock. Seats on 
sale at Bollman Bros.' Music Store. 

CLEVELAND, O.— Saturday evening, Nov. 
6th, eight o'clock. 

CHICAGO, ILL.— Studebaker Theater, Sun- 
day afternoon^ Nov. 14th, three o'clock. 
Seats on sale at Box Office. 

NEW YORK CITY— Cooper Union, Thurs= 
tday evening, Nov. 18th, eight o'clock. Seats 
^on sale at John Wanamaker's Book Store. 

YOUNGSTOWN, O.— Elks Hall, Monday 
evening, Nov. 22d, eight o'clock. 

PITTSBURGH, PA.— Lecture Hall, Carnegie 
Library Building, East End, Tuesday even= 
ing, Nov. 23d, eight o'clock. 

PHILADELPHIA, PA.— Witherspoon Hall, 
Thursday evening, Nov. 25th, eight o'clock. 
Seats on sale at John Wanamaker's. 

BOSTON, MASS.— Chickering Hall, Thurs- 
day evening, Dec. 9th, eight o'clock. Seats 
on sale at Box Office. 

Jf or gour JBoofefil 

^OR the next few months our Bindery will be able to give Atten- 
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THE ROYCROFTERS, East Aurora. Erie County, New York, U. S. A. 


By Leonard Nichols 

Thoreau, long since dead and gone. 
In name and fame still liveth on. 
'Twas he, when at the evening meal 
Asked for which dish he seemed to feel 
A preference, in drawling answer said. 
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"The nearest." 
Long years a query 's pestered me; 
'Tis this: Would Henry David Thoreau, he, 
If asked which pretty Concord miss 
Of his acquaintance he would kiss. 
Have drawled in answer as before. 
In Emersonian days of yore, 

"The nearest"? 

When You Write a Letter 

bear in mind that the recipient probably gets 
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THE ROYCROFTERS, East Aurora, N. Y. 



of a master 

is his 


in bringing all men 
round to his opinion 
twenty years later 

— Emerson 

■ v> « J >l|g-Tg 

T is one of 
the most 


tions of life that no 
man can sincerely try 
to help another with- 
out helping himself 

Vol. 25 


No. 5 


TO THF HQMg^l3ff 

H. H RO 




fWHIVH-l5-]a SKSg 



OOD Roads, 
Parks, Bet- 

ter Schools, 
Trees, Pure 
Water, Fresh Air, 
Sunshine and Work 
for Everybody— these 
things, to me, are 

^Gligion— Robert Collyer 

< tered at the poet-offlce ki Blast Aurora, New York, for transmission as seoond-claas matter. 
Copyright, 1909, by Klbert Hubbard, Editor and Publwh«-. 

^0 Z^t Jfaitfiful 

3N certain Universities there is what is known as the 
Sabbatical Year. That is to say, one year in seven is 
given to the teacher or professor as his own: this 
for the good of himself — and the school. 
€fMr. Hubbard has written one Little Journey a 
month for fifteen years, or in all One Hundred Eighty of 
these biographies in tabloid. 

Qlt is believed, judging from the continued sale, and the 
gradually growing demand from High Schools, Colleges 
and Libraries, that Little Journeys will have a permanent 
place in the world's literature. 

^Realizing the danger of the human mind to run in 
grooves, and the tendency of a writer to do mental goose- 
step, Mr. Hubbard proposes to take the year Nineteen 
Hundred Ten as a Sabbatical Year, for the good of him- 
self — and his readers. 

qMr. Hubbard feels that a leisurely tour of Europe, amid 
the sights and scenes of places made sacred by the presence 
of good men and great — eke women, withal — will obviate 
the risk of a decline of raw stock and recharge his cosmic 

QAnd this to the end that all those dear friends, whose 
love and loyalty Mr. Hubbard so prizes and ever hopes that 
he may merit, may not have to drowse over pages poppy- 
strewn with the trite, sprinkled with the commonplace, and 
punctured by the obvious. 

^Mr. Hubbard feels very sure that he is in sight of 
Untapped Reservoirs, and the refined product of these he 
expects to present to the Faithful in the years to come. 
^The Philistine and The Fra will be continued 
as heretofore. These being mostly comments on 
the Passing Show can be written anywhere, 
amid the rush and throng, the quiet of country 
by-roads, or those places where the spirit of art 
lingers. The intent is to make these Magazines 
more worthy of that select clientele which has 
made them possible, than ever before. flMay all 
the good that the Loving deserve be theirs ! 

One Dollar for All! 


for one Year, as issued 


To be read and given away as tracts to the unwashed 
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OUCCESS is rooted in reciprocity. He who does not benefit the 
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NE proof that H. H. Rogers was 
a personage and not a person lies 
in the fact that he was seldom 
mentioned in moderate language. 
Lawson passed him a few choice 
tributes; Ida Tarbell tarred him 
with her literary stick ; Upton Sin- 
clair declared he was this and that ; 
Prof. Herren averred that he bore 
no likeness to Leo Tolstoy, — and, 
he might have added, neither did 
he resemble Francis of Assisi or 
Simeon Stylites. Those who did not like him usually pictured 
him by recounting what he was not. 

My endeavor in this sketch will be simply to tell what he was. 
fl Henry Huddleston Rogers was a very human individual. 
He was born at the village of Fairhaven, Massachusetts, in 
the year Eighteen Hundred and Forty. He died in New York 
City in Nineteen Hundred and Nine— in his seventieth year. 
He was the typical American, and his career was the ideal 
one to which we are always pointing our growing youth. His 
fault, if fault it be, was that he succeeded too well. Success is 
a hard thing to forgive. Personality repels as well as attracts. 
^ The life of H. H. Rogers was the complete American 
romance. He lived the part — and he looked it. He did not 
require a make-up. The sub-cortex was not for him, and 
even the liars never dared to say he was a hypocrite. 
H. H. Rogers had personality. Men turned to gaze at him on 
the street ; women glanced, and then hastily looked, unneces- 



sarily hard, the other way ; children stared. ^ The man was 
tall, lithe, strong, graceful, commanding. His jaw was the 
jaw of courage ; his chin meant purpose ; his nose symboled 
intellect, poise and power; his brow spelled brain. 
He was a handsome man, and he was not wholly unaware of 
the fact. In him was the pride of the North American Indian, 
and a little of the reserve of the savage. His silence was 
always eloquent, and in it was neither stupidity nor vacuity. 
With friends he was witty, affable, generous, lovable. 
In business negotiation he was rapid, direct, incisive; or 
smooth, plausible and convincing — all depending upon the 
man with whom he was dealing. He often did to others what 
they were trying to do to him, and he did it first. He had the 
splendid ability to say **No** when he should, a thing many 
good men can not do. At such times his mouth would shut 
like a steel trap and his blue eyes would send the thermometer 
below zero. No one could play horse with H. H. Rogers. He, 
himself, was always in the saddle. 

The power of the man was more manifest with men than with 
women, yet he was always admired by women, but more on 
account of his austerity than his effort to please. He was not 
given to flattery; yet he was quick to commend. He had in 
him something of the dash that existed when knighthood 
was in flower. He dressed well, because everything he did, 
he did well. But he hated Beau Brummel. Dress to him was 
only an incident, not an end. He had taste, a sense of pro- 
portion, an appreciation of color, a just regard for form. To 
the great of the earth, H. H. Rogers never bowed the knee. 
He never shimned an encounter, save with weakness, greed 


and stupidity. He met every difficulty, every obstacle, unafraid 
and unabashed. Even death to him was only a passing event 
— death for him had no sting, nor the grave a victory. 
He prepared for his passing, looking after every detail, as 
he had planned trips to Europe. Jauntily, jokingly, bravely, 
tremendously busy, keenly alive to beauty and friendship, 
deciding great issues offhand, facing friend or foe, the 
moments of relaxation chinked in with religious emotion 
and a glowing love for humanity — so he lived, and so he died. 
qAn executive has been described as a man who decides 
quickly, and is sometimes right. 
H. H. Rogers was the ideal executive. 
He did not decide until the evidence was all in ; he listened, 
weighed, sifted, sorted and then decided. 
And when his decision was made the case was closed. 
To explain matters to the mediocre is to have your enthusiasm 
evaporate into space. To explain to your own familiar friend 
in order to get the problem crystallized in your own mind is 
quite another matter. H. H. Rogers did both. When he ex- 
plained his plans to another, it was always quite certain that 
the question was still incubating in his own brain. When 
once the matter was clear to himself, he went ahead, and 
got the thing done. Thus did he exemplify the working motto 
of the Rev. Dr. Jowett, Master of Baliol, "Get the thing done 
and let them howl." 

Big men, who are doing big things that have never been 
done before, act on this basis, otherwise they would be ironed 
out to the average, and their dreams would evaporate like 
the morning mist. H. H. Rogers made his dreams come true. 


H • 


IVE me neither poverty nor 
riches," said the philosopher. 
The parents of H. H. Rogers were 
neither rich nor poor. They had 
enough, but there was never a sur- 
feit. They were of straight New 
England stock. Of his four great- 
grandfathers, three had fought in 
the Revolutionary War. 
According to Thomas Carlyle, 
respectable people were those who 
kept a gig. In some towns the 
credential is that the family shall employ a ** hired girl." In 
Fairhaven the condition was that you should have a washer- 
woman one day in the week. The soapy wash-water was 
saved for scrubbing purposes — for this was in Massachusetts 
— and if the man of the house occasionally smoked a pipe he 
was requested to blow the smoke onto the plants in the 
South windows, so as to kill the vermin. Nothing was wasted. 
^ The child born into such a family where industry and 
economy are prized, unless he is a mental defective and a 
physical cripple, will be sure to thrive. 
The father had made one trip in a whaler. He was gone three 
years and got a one-hundred-and-forty-seventh part of the 
catch. The oil market was on a slump, and so the net result 
for the father of a millionaire-to-be, was ninety-five dollars 
and twenty cents. This happy father was a grocer, and later 
a clerk to a broker in whale-oil. Pater had the New England 
virtues to such a degree that they kept him poor. He was 


cautious, plus. ^ To make, you have to spend ; to grow a crop 
you have to plant the seed. Here *s where you plunge — it is a 
gamble, a bet on the seed versus the eternal cussedness of 
things. It *s you against the chances of a crop. 
If the drought comes, or the flood, or the chintz-bug, or the 
brown-tailed moth, you may find yourself floundering in the 

Aside from that one cruise to the whaling-grounds, Rogers 
Pere played the game of life near home and close to shore. 
^ The easy ways of the villagers are shown by a story Mr. 
Rogers used to tell about a good neighbor of his — a second 
mate on a whaler. The bark was weighing anchor and about 
to sail. The worthy mate tarried at a barroom over in New 
Bedford. ** Ain't you going home to kiss your wife good-by?" 
some one asked. flAnd the answer was: ** What's the use? 
— I 'm only going to be gone two years. " 
Half of Fairhaven was made up of fishermen, and the rest 
were widows and the usual village contingent. The widows 
were the washerwomen. 

Those who had the price hired a washerwoman one day in 
the week. This was not so much because the mother herself 
could not do the work, as it was to give work to the needy 
and prove the Jeffersonian idea of equality. The wash-lady 
was always seated with the family at table, and beside her 
wage was presented with a pie, a pumpkin, or some outgrown 
garment. Thus were the Christian virtues liberated. 
Where the gray mare is the better horse, her mate always 
lets up a bit on his whiflaetree and she draws most of the load. 
^ It was so here. 


The mother planned for the household. She was the econo- 
mist, bursar and disburse!. 

She was a member of the Congregational Church, with a 
liberal bias, which believed in ** endless consequences," but 
not in ** endless punishment." Later the family evolved into 
Unitarians by the easy process of natural selection. 
The father said grace, and the mother led in family prayers. 
She had ideas of her own and expressed them. The family 
took the Boston Weekly Congregationalist and the Bedford 
Weekly Standard. In the household there was a bookcase of 
nearly a hundred volumes. It was the most complete library 
in town, excepting that of the minister. 
The home where H. H. Rogers was born still stands. Its 
frame was made in Sixteen Hundred and Ninety — mortised, 
tenoned and pinned. In the garret the rafters show the 
loving marks of the broadaxe — to swing which musical 
instrument with grace and effectiveness is now a lost art. 
^ How short is the life of man ! Here a babe was born, who lived 
his infancy, youth, manhood ; who achieved as one in a mil- 
lion, who died, yet the house of his birth — old at the time — 
still stubbornly stands as if to make mock of our ambitions. 
A hundred years ago Fairhaven had a dozen men or more 
who with an auger, an adz, a broadaxe, and a draw-shave 
could build a boat or a house warranted to outlast the owner. 
^ I had tea in this house where H. H. Rogers was born and 
where his boyhood days were spent. I fetched an armful of 
wood for the housewife, and would have brought a bucket of 
water for her from the pump, only the pump is now out of 
commission, having been replaced by the new-fangled water- 

works presented to the town by a Standard Oil magnate ^ 
Here Henry Rogers brought chips in a wheelbarrow from the 
shipyard on baking-days ; here he hoed the garden and helped 
his mother fasten up the flaming, flaring hollyhocks against 
the house with strips of old sail-cloth and tacks. 
There were errands to look after, and usually a pig, and 
sometimes two, that accumulated adipose on purslane and 
lamb's-quarters, with surplus clams for dessert, also quo- 
hogs to preserve the poetic unities. Then there came a time 
when the family kept a cow that was pastured on the 
common, the herd being looked after by a man who had 
fought valiantly in the War of Eighteen Hundred and 
Twelve, and who used to tell the boys about it, fighting the 
battles over with crutch and cane. 

In the winter the ice sometimes froze solid clean across 
Buzzards Bay. The active and hustling boys had skates 
made by the village blacksmith. Henry Rogers had two pair, 
and used to loan one pair out for two cents an hour. Boys who 
had no skates and could not beg or borrow and who had but 
one cent could sometimes get one skate for a while and thus 
glide gracefully on one foot. There was good fishing through 
the ice, only it was awful cold work and not much pay, for 
fish could hardly be given away. 

In the summer there were clams to dig, blueberries to gather, 
and pond-lilies had a value — I guess so! Then in the early 
spring folks raked up their yards and made bonfires of the 
winter's debris. Henry Rogers did these odd jobs, and re- 
ligiously took his money home to his mother, who placed it 
in the upper right-hand corner of a bureau-drawer. 



The village school was kept by an Irishman who had attended 
Harvard. He believed in the classics and the efficacy of the 
ferule, and doted on Latin, which he also used as a punish- 
ment Jti J> 

Henry Rogers was alive and alert and was diplomatic enough 
to manage the Milesian pedagogue without his ever knowing 
it. The lessons were easy to him — he absorbed in the mass. 
Beside that, his mother helped nights by the light of a 
whale-oil lamp, for her boy was going to grow up to be a 
school-teacher — or possibly a minister, who knows! 
Out in Illinois, when the Wanderlust used to catch the 
evolving youth, who was neither a boy nor a man, he ran 
away and went Out West. In New England the same lad 
would have shipped before the mast, and let his parents guess 
where he was — their due punishment for lack of appreciation. 
fl To grow up on the coast and hear the tales of the seafaring 
men who have gone down to the sea in ships, is to catch it 
sooner or later. 

At fifteen Henry Rogers caught it, and was duly recorded to 
go^^on a whaler. Luckily his mother got word of it, and can- 
celed the deal. About then, good fortune arrived in the form 
of Opportunity. The young man who peddled the New Bedford 
Standard wanted to dispose of his route. 
Henry bought the route and advised with his mother after- 
ward, only to find that she had sent the seller to him. Honors 
were even. His business was to deliver the papers with 
precision. Later he took on the Boston papers, also. This is 
what gave rise to the story that Henry Rogers was a newsboy. 
fl He was a newsboy, but he was a newsboy extraordinary. 


He took orders for advertisements for the '* Standard," and 
was also the Fairhaven correspondent, supplying the news 
as to who was visiting who ; giving names of the good citizens 
who were shingling their chicken-houses, and mentioning 
those enjoying poor health. 

Whether the news did anybody any good or not matters little 
— the boy was learning to write. In after years he used to 
refer to this period of his life as his '* newspaper career." 
Superstitious persons have been agitated about that word 
"Standard," and how it should have ominously come into 
the life of H. H. Rogers at this early time. 
When the railroad came in, Henry got a job as assistant 
baggageman. The conductorship was in sight — twenty 
years away, but promised positively by a kind relative — 
when something else appeared on the horizon and a good job 
was exchanged for a better one. 

An enterprising Boston man had established a chain of 
groceries along the coast, and was monopolizing the business, 
or bidding fair to do so. 

By buying for many stores, he could buy cheaper than any other 
one man could. But the main point was that the plan was to 
go to the home, take the order and deliver the goods. Before 
that, if you wanted things you went to the store, selected 
them and carried them home. To have asked the storekeeper 
to deliver the goods to your house would have given that 
gentleman heart-failure. He did mighty well to carry in 
stock the things people needed. But here was a revolutionary 
method — a new deal. Henry Rogers' father said it was initia- 
tive gone mad, and would only last a few weeks. Henry 



Rogers* mother said otherwise, and Henry agreed with her. 
He had clerked in his father's grocery, and so knew some- 
thing of the business. Moreover, he knew the people — he 
knew every family in Fairhaven by name, and most of them 
for six miles around as well. ^ He started in at three dollars 
a week, taking orders and driving the delivery-wagon. 
In six months his pay was five dollars a week and a commis- 
sion. In a year he was making twenty dollars a week. He was 
only eighteen — slim, tall, bronzed and strong. He could 
carry a hundred pounds on his shoulder. The people along 
his route liked him — he was cheerful and accommodating. 
Not only did he deliver the things, but he put them away 
in cellar, barn, closet, garret or cupboard. He did not only 
what he was paid to do, but more. He anticipated Ali Baba 
who said, ''Folks who never do any more than they get paid 
for, never get paid for anything more than they do. " 
It was the year Eighteen Hundred and Fifty-nine, and Henry 
Rogers was making money. He owned his route, and the 
manager of the stores was talking about making him assist- 
ant superintendent. Had he stuck to his job he might have 
become a partner in the great firm of Cobb, Bates and Yerxa, 
and put Bates to the bad. It would have then been Cobb, 
Rogers and Yerxa — and later, H. H. Rogers, Dealer in Staple 
and Fancy Groceries. 

But something happened about this time that shook New 
Bedford to its center, and gave Fairhaven a thrill. 
Whale-oil was whale-oil then, and whale-oil and New Bed- 
ford were synonymous. Now, a man out in Pennsylvania had 
bored down into the ground and struck a reservoir. A sort of 


spouting sperm-whale! With this difference: whales spout 
sea-water, while this gusher spouted whale-oil, or something 
just as good. 

HE year Eighteen Hundred and 
Fifty-nine is an unforgettable date 
— a date that ushers in the Great 
American Renaissance, in which 
we now live. Three very important 
events occurred that year. One 
was the hanging of Old John 
Brown, who was fifty-nine years 
old, and thus not so very old. This 
event made a tremendous stir in 
Fairhaven, just as it did every- 
where, especially in rural districts. 
The second great event that happened in Eighteen Hundred 
and Fifty-nine was the publication of a book by a man born 
in Eighteen Hundred and Nine, the same year that Lincoln 
was bom. The man's name was Charles Darwin, and his 
book was **The Origin of Species." His volume was to do for 
the theological world what John Brown's raid did for 
American politics. QThe third great event that occurred in 
Eighteen Hundred and Fifty-nine was when a man by the 
name of Edwin L. Drake, Colonel by grace, bored a well 
and struck "rock-oil" at Titusville, Pennsylvania. 


At that time **rock-oil" or **coal-oil" was no new thing. It 
had been found floating on the water of streams in West 
Virginia, Kentucky, Ohio and Pennsylvania. 
There were rumors that some one in digging for salt had 
tapped a reservoir of oil that actually flowed a stream. There 
were oil-springs around Titusville and along Oil Creek. The 
oil ran down on the water and was skimmed off by men in 
boats. Several men were making modest fortunes by bottling 
the stuff and selling it as a medicine. In England it was sold 
as ** American Natural Oil," and used for a liniment. The 
Indians had used it, and the world has a way of looking to 
aborigines for medicine, even if not for health. Spiritualistic 
meditmis and doctors bank heavily on Indians. 
This natural oil was known to be combustible. Out-of-doors 
it helped the camp-fire. But if burned indoors it made a 
horrible smoke and a smell to conjure with. 
Up to that time whale-oil had been mostly used for illumina- 
ting and lubricating purposes. 

But whale-oil was getting too high for plain people. It looked 
as if there were a ** whale trust. " Some one sent a bottle of this 
'* natural oil" down to Prof. Silliman of Yale to have it 
analyzed J- ^ 

Prof. Silliman reported that the oil had great possibilities if 
refined, both as a luminant and as a lubricant. 
To refine it, a good man who ran a whisky-still tried his plan 
of the worm that never dies, with the oil. The vapor condensed 
and was caught in the form of an oil that was nearly white. 
This oil burned with a steady flame, if protected by a lamp- 
chimney ,^ Ji> 


Rock-oil in Eighteen Hundred and Fifty-eight was worth 
twenty dollars a barrel. Lumbermen out of a job turned 
skimmers, and often collected a barrel a day, becoming as it 
were members of the cult known as the Predatory Rich. 
This is what tempted Colonel Drake to bore his well, and see 
if possible if he might strike the vein that was making the 
skimmers turn octopi. ^ It took Drake nearly a year to drill 
his well. He met with various obstacles and difficulties, but 
on August Twenty-second, Eighteen Hundred and Fifty- 
nine, that neck of the woods was electrified by the news 
that Drake's Folly was gushing rock-oil. 
Soon there were various men busily boring all round the 
neighborhood, with the aid of spring-poles and other rude 
devices. Several struck it rich, but many had their labor for 
their pains. One man was getting sixty-five barrels a day and 
selling the oil for eighteen dollars a barrel. 
The trouble was to transport the oil — barrels were selling for 
five dollars each, and there were no tanks. This was a lumber 
country, with no railroads within a hundred miles. One 
enterprising man went down to Pittsburg and bought a raft- 
load of barrels, which he towed up the Allegheny River to the 
mouth of Oil Creek. Then he hired farmers for ten dollars a 
day with teams to take the barrels to Titusville and fill them 
and bring them back. The oil was floated down to Pittsburg 
and sold at a big profit. Stills were made to refine the oil, 
which was sold to the consumer at seventy-five cents a 
gallon. The heavy refuse oils were thrown away. 
In Eighteen Hundred and Sixty began the making of lamp- 
chimneys, a most profitable industry. The chimneys sold for 



fifty cents each, and with the aid of Sir Isaac Newton's 
invention did not long survive life's rude vicissitudes. 
Men were crowding into the oil country, lured by the tales of 
enormous fortunes and rich finds. ^ No one could say what 
you might discover by digging down into the ground. One 
man claimed to have struck a vein of oyster-soup. And any- 
way he sold oyster-soup over his counter at a dollar a 
dish. Gas-gushers were lighted and burned without com- 
punction as to waste. Gamblers were working overtime. 
The first railroad into the oil country came from Pittsburg, 
and was met by fight and defiance from the Amalgamated 
Brotherhood of Teamsters, who saw their business fading 
away. The farmers, too, opposed the railroad, as they meant 
an end to horse-flesh, excepting as an edible. 
But the opposition wore itself out, and the railroad replaced 
its ripped-up rails, and did business on its grass-grown right 
of way and streaks of rust. QThe second railroad came from 
Cleveland, which city was a natural distributing-point to the 
vast consuming territory lying along the Great Lakes. 
John D. Rockefeller, a clerk in a Cleveland commission- 
house, became interested in the oil business in Eighteen 
Hundred and Sixty-two. He was then twenty-three years old, 
and had five hundred dollars in the bank saved from his 
wages. He'^put this money into a refining-still at Titus ville, 
with several partners, all working men. John peddled the 
product and became expert on **pure white" and "straw 
color. " He also saw that a part of the so-called refuse could 
be re-treated and made into a product that was valuable for 
lubricating purposes. 

H . 

H . 


Other men about the same time made a like discovery. ^ It 
was soon found that refined oil could not be shipped with 
profit; the barrels often had to be left in the sunshine or 
exposed to the weather, and transportation facilities were very 
uncertain. The still was then torn out and removed to Cleve- 
land J> ^ 

The oil business was a most hazardous one. Crude oil had 
dropped from twenty dollars a barrel to fifty cents a barrel. No 
one knew the value of oil, for no one knew the extent of the 
supply. An empty barrel was worth two dollars, and the crude 
oil to fill it could be bought for half that. 

T twenty-one, two voices were 
calling to Henry Rogers: love of 
country and business ambition. 
The war was coming and New 
England patriotism burned deep 
in the Rogers heart. But this 
young man knew that he had a 
genius for trade. He was a sales- 
man — that is to say, he was a 
diplomat and an adept in the 
management of people. Where and 
how could he use his talent best? 
fi When Sumter was fired upon, it meant that no ship flying 
the Stars and Stripes was safe. The grim aspect of war came 



home to New Bedford with a reeling shock, when news 
arrived that a whaler, homeward bound, had been captured, 
towed into Charleston Harbor and the ship and cargo con- 
fiscated J> J* 

It was a blow of surprise to the captain and sailors on this 
ship, too, for they had been out three years and knew nothing 
of what was going on at home. Then certain Southern 
privateers got lists of the New England whale-ships that were 
out and lay in wait for them as whalers lie in wait for the 
leviathan. Q Prices of whale-oil soared like balloons. New 
England ships at home tied up close or else were pressed 
into government service. § The high price of oil fanned the 
flame of speculation in Pennsylvania. 
Henry H. Rogers was twenty. It was a pivotal point in 
his life. He was in love with the daughter of the captain of a 
whaler. They were neighbors and had been schoolmates 
together. Henry talked it over with Abbie Gilford — it was 
war or the oil-fields of Pennsylvania! 
And love had its way, just as it usually has. 
The ayes had it, and with nearly a thousand dollars of hard- 
earned savings he went to the oil-fields. 
At that time most of the crude oil was shipped to tidewater 
and there refined. In the refining process, only twenty-five 
per cent of the product was saved, seventy-five per cent 
being thrown away as worthless. It struck young Rogers 
that the refining should be done at the wells, and the freight 
on that seventy-five per cent saved. To that end he entered 
into a partnership with Charles Ellis, and erected a refinery 
between Titusville and Oil City. 


Rogers learned by doing. He was a practical refiner, and 
soon became a scientific one. 

The first year he and Ellis divided thirty thousand dollars 
between them. 

In the fall of Eighteen Hundred and Sixty-two, when he 
went back to Fairhaven to claim his bride, young Rogers 
was regarded as a rich man. His cruise to Pennsylvania had 
netted him as much as half a dozen whales. The bride and 
groom returned at once to Pennsylvania and the simple life. 
q Henry and Abbie lived in a one-roomed shack on the banks 
of Oil Creek. It was love in a cottage all right, with an absolute 
lack of everything that is supposed to make up civilization. It 
was n't exactly hardship, for nothing is really hardship to 
lovers in their twenties but separation. Stili they thought, 
talked and dreamed of the bluefish, the blueberries, the blue 
waters, the clams and the sea-breezes of Fairhaven. 
About this time, Charles Pratt, a dealer and refiner of oils, 
of Brooklyn, appears upon the horizon. Pratt had bought 
whale-oil of Ellis in Fairhaven. Pratt now contracted for 
the entire refined output of Rogers and Ellis at a fiixed price. 
^ All went well for a few months, when crude suddenly 
took a skjrward turn, owing to the manipulation of specu- 
lators. Rogers and Ellis had no wells and were at the 
mercy of the wolves. They struggled on trying to live up to 
their contract with Pratt, but soon their surplus was wiped 
out, and they found themselves in debt to Pratt to the tune 
of several thousand dollars. ^ Rogers went on to New York 
and saw Pratt, personally assuming the obligation of taking 
care of the deficit. Ellis disappeared in the mist. 



The manly ways of Rogers so impressed Pratt that he 
decided he needed just such a man in his business. A 
bargain was struck, and Rogers went to work for Pratt. 
The first task of young Rogers was to go to Pennsylvania 
and straighten out the affairs of the Pennsylvania Salt 
Company, of which Pratt was chief owner. 
The work was so well done that Pratt, waxing enthusiastic, 
made Rogers foreman of his Brooklyn refinery. 
It was twenty-five dollars a week, with a promise of a 
partnership if sales ran over fifty thousand dollars a year ,^ 
How Henry Rogers moved steadily from a foreman to 
manager, and then superintendent, of Pratt's Astral Oil 
Refinery, is one of the fairy-tales of America. 
Pratt was the first man to refine crude oil east of Pennsyl- 
vania. He had long dealt in lubricants and illuminants, and 
had a reputation for fair dealing. 

Henry Rogers became hands and feet and eyes and ears for 
Charles Pratt. 

The year's sales not only reached fifty thousand dollars, but 
over twice that. The second year doubled the first. Henry did 
not draw his commissions. In fact, Pratt could not pay them : 
the business was expanding, and every dollar of capital was 
needed that could be scraped together. Pratt gave Rogers an 
interest in the business, and Rogers got along on his twenty- 
five dollars a week, although the books showed he was 
making ten thousand dollars a year. He worked like a pack- 
mule. His wife brought his meals to the "works," and often 
he would sleep but three hours a night, as he could snatch 
the time, rolled up in a blanket by the side of a still. 

H . 


Then comes John D. Rockefeller from Cleveland, with his 
plans of co-operation and consolidation. 
Pratt talked it over with Rogers, and they decided that the 
combination would steady the commercial sails and give 
ballast to the ship. They named their own terms. The Rocke- 
fellers sneezed, and then coughed. Next day John D. Rocke- 
feller came back and quietly accepted the offer exactly as 
Rogers had formulated it. 

The terms were stiff, but Rockefeller, a few years later, got 
even with the slightly arrogant Rogers by passing him this — 
"I would have paid you and Pratt twice as much if you had 
demanded it. " 

"Which you are perfectly safe in saying now — and which 
signifies nothing anyway, since the past is a dry hole. " 
And they shook hands solemnly. 

Rockefeller ordered a glass of milk and Rogers took ginger 
ale d/^Ji' 

Rockefeller was only one year older than Rogers, but seemed 
twenty. Rockefeller was always old and always discreet ; he 
never lost his temper; he was warranted non-explosive 
from childhood. Rogers at times was spiritual benzine. 


H . 

H . 

N^Eighteen Hundred and Seventy- 
two there were twenty-six sepa- 
rate oil-refineries in Cleveland. 
Refined oil sold to the consumer 
for twenty cents a gallon; and 
much of it was of an unsafe and 
uncertain quality — it was what you 
might call erratic. 
Some of the refineries were poorly 
equipped, and fire was a factor 
that made the owners sit up nights 
when they should have been asleep. 
Insurance was out of the question. 

One of these concerns was The Acme Oil Company, of which 
John D. Archbold was President. Its capital was forty thou- 
sand dollars, some of which had been paid in, in cash. Wil- 
liam Rockefeller was at the head of still another company; 
and John D. Rockefeller, brother of William, and two yesirs 
older, had an interest in three more concerns. 
Outbidding each other for supplies, hiring each other*s 
men, with a production made up of a multiplicity of grades, 
made the business one of chaotic uncertainty. The rule was 
"dog eat dog." 

Then it was that John D. Rockefeller conceived the idea of 
combining all of the companies in Cleveland and as many 
elsewhere as possible, under the name of The Standard Oil 
Trust. The corporation was duly formed with a capital of 
one million dollars. The Pratt Oil Company, with principal 
works in Brooklyn, but a branch in Cleveland, was one of 


the twenty concerns that were absorbed. The stocks of the 
various concerns were taken up and paid for in Standard Oil 

And so it happened that Henry H. Rogers, aged thirty-two, 
found himself worth a hundred thousand dollars, not in cash 
but in shares that were supposed to be worth par, and should 
pay if rightly managed seven or eight per cent. 
He was one of the directors in the new company. 
It was an enviable position for any young man. Of course 
there were the wiseheimers then as now, and statements were 
made that The Pratt Oil Company had been pushed to the 
wall, and would shortly have its neck wrung by John D. 
Rockefeller and have to start all over. But these prophets 
knew neither Rockefeller nor Rogers, and much less the 
resources and wants of the world. 

In very truth, neither the brothers Rockefeller, Rogers, nor 
Archbold, nor any one of that score of men who formed The 
Standard Oil Company, ever anticipated, even in their wildest 
dreams, the possibilities in the business. The growth of 
America in men and money has been a thing unguessed and 
unprophesied. Thomas Jefferson seemed to have had more 
of a prophetic eye than any one else, but he never imagined 
the railroads, pipe-lines, sky-scrapers, iron steamships, tele- 
graphs, telephones, nor the use of electricity and concrete. 
^ He did, however, see our public-school system, and he said 
that **by the year Nineteen Hundred the United States will 
have a population of fifty million people." This is why he 
made that real-estate deal with Napoleon, which most Ameri- 
cans of the time thought a bad bargain. 


Rogers had great hope and an exuberant imagination, but 
the most he saw for himself was an income of five thousand 
a year, and a good house, unencumbered, with a library and 
guest-room. In addition, he expected to own a horse and 
buggy. He would take care of the horse himself, and wash 
the buggy, also grease the axles. 

In fact, his thoughts were on flowers, books, education, and 
cultivating his mental acreage. 

John D. Rockefeller was sorely beset by business burdens jt 
The Standard Oil Company had moved its headquarters to 
New York City, where its business was largely exporting. 
The brothers Rockefeller found themselves swamped under 
a mass of detail. ^ Power flows to the men who can shoulder 
it, and burdens go to those who can carry them. 
Here was a business without precedent, and all growing 
beyond human thought. To meet the issues as they arise 
the men at the head must -grow with the business. 
Rogers could make decisions, and he had strength like 
silken fiber. He could bend but never break. His health was 
perfect ; his mind was fluid ; he was alive and alert to all new 
methods and plans; he had great good-cheer, and was of a 
kind to meet men and mold them. He set a pace which only 
the very strong could follow, but which inspired all. John D. 
Rockefeller worked himself to a physical finish, twenty years 
ago; and his mantle fell by divine right on **H. H.," with 
John D. Archbold as understudy. 

Since John D. Rockefeller slipped out from under the burden 
of active management, about Eighteen Hundred and Eighty- 
eight, the business has more than quadrupled. 

H . 

John D. Rockefeller never got mad, and Rogers and Arch- 
bold made it a rule never to get mad at the same time. 
When the stress and strife began to cause Rockefeller to lose 
his hair and appetite, he once pulled down his long upper lip 
and placidly bewailed his inability to take a vacation. Like 
many another good man he thought his presence was a 
necessity to the business. 

"Go on with you, " said H. H. ; **am I not here? Then there is 
Archbold — he is always Johnny on the spot." 
Rockefeller smiled a sphinx-like smile, as near as he ever 
came to indulging in a laugh, and mosied out of the room. 
That night he went up to the Catskills. 
The next day a telegram came from Rockefeller addressed 
to **Johnny-on-the-Spot, Twenty-six Broadway." 
The message was carried directly to John D. Archbold, with- 
out question, and duly receipted for. 

Since then the phrase has become a classic; but few people 
there be who know that it was Rogers who launched it, or 
who are aware that the original charter member of the 
On-the-Spot Club was Johnny Archbold. 


H . 


H. ROGERS was a trail-maker, 
and as a matter of course was not 
understanded of the people who 
hug close to the friendly back- 
log, and talk of other days and 
the times that were. 
Rogers was an economist — per- 
haps the greatest economist of his 
time J' ^ 

And an economist deals with 
conditions, not theories; facts, 
not fancies. 

A few years ago, all retail grocers sold kerosene. The kero- 
sene-can with its spud on the spout was a household sign. 
Moreover, we not only had kerosene in the can, but we had 
it on the loaf of bread, and on almost everything that came 
from the grocer's. For, if the can did not leak, it sweat, and 
the oil of gladness was on the hands and clothes of the clerk. 
The grocers lifted no howl when the handling of kerosene 
was taken out of their hands. In truth, they were never so 
happy, as kerosene was hazardous to handle and entailed 
little profit — the stuff was that cheap ! ^ Beside that, a barrel 
of forty-two gallons measured out to the user about thirty- 
eight gallons. Loaded into cars, bumped out, lying in the sun, 
on station-platform, it always and forever hunted the crevices. 
Schemes were devised to line the inside of barrels with rosin, 
but always the stuff stole forth to freedom. 
Freight, cartage, leakage, cooperage and return of barrels 
meant loss of temper, trade and dolodocci. 


Realizing all these things, H. H. Rogers, aided by his able 
Major-general, John D. Archbold, revolutionized the trade. 
^ The man who now handles your kerosene does not handle 
your sugar. He is a specialist. 

In every town in America of over one thousand people is a 
Standard Oil agency. The oil is delivered from tank-cars into 
iron tanks. From there it is piped into tank-wagons. This 
wagon comes to your door, and the gentlemanly agent sees 
that your little household tank is kept filled. 
All you have to do is turn a faucet. 

Aye, in this pleasant village of East Aurora is a Standard Oil 
Agent who will fill your lamp and trim the wick, provided you 
buy your lamps, chimneys and wicks of him. 
His prices are reasonable, his service faultless. 
He has tank-wagons that visit the villages for six miles 
'round. He supplies the farmers with gasoline, kerosene or 
lubricating-oil. And yesterday I saw him greasing a farmer's 
wagon — all included in the modest consideration asked for 
his oil ^ ^ 

And this service is Standard Oil Service — it extends from 
Halifax to San Diego ; from New Orleans to Hudson Bay. 
In very truth, it covers the world. 

The Standard Oil Company takes the product from the well, 
and puts it into the tank of your benzine-buggy, oiling the 
wheels of the craft while your wife puts on her hat. 
This service, with prohibition in the South, has ruined the 
cooper's trade, the trade that introduced Mr. H. M. Flagler 
into The Standard Oil Company. 

The investment in cooperage used in the oil business has 




shrunk from a hundred millions to less than five millions, 
while the traffic in oil has doubled. 

And the germ of this service to the consumer came from the 
time when Henry Rogers worked a grocery-route for a 
Co-operative concern that cut out the middleman and focused 
on a faultless service to the consumer. 

HE name ** petroleum" is Latin. 
The word has been in use since 
the time of Pliny, who lived neigh- 
bor to Paul in Rome, when the 
Apostle abided in his own hired 
house, awaiting trial under an 
indictment for saying things about 
the Established Religion. 
Until within sixty years, the world 
thought that petroleum was one 
simple substance. Now we find it 
is a thousand — mixed and fused 
and blended in the crucible of Time. 

Science sifts, separates, dissolves, analyzes, classifies. The 
perfumes gathered by the tendrils of violet and rose, in their 
divine desire for expression, are found in petroleum J> 
Aye, the colors and all the delicate tints of petal, of stamen 
and of pistil are in this substance stored in the dark recesses 
of the^Earth. ^Petroleum has^yielded up over two thousand 


distinct substances, wooed by the loving, eager caress of the 
Chemist. All of the elements that go to make up the earth 
are there. Hundreds of articles used in commerce and in our 
daily lives are gotten from petroleum. 

To secure these in a form fit for daily use was the tire- 
less task of Henry H. Rogers. Not by his own hands, of course, 
for life is too short for that, but the Universities of the round 
world have been called upon for their men of brains. 
Rogers' business was to discover men. 
This is a phase of the history of The Standard Oil Company 
that has not yet been written, but which is of vastly greater 
importance than the motions of well-meaning but non- 
producing attorneys, whose mental processes are "dry holes." 
^"Science is classification," said Aristotle to his bad boy pupil, 
Alexander, three hundred and forty years before Christ. 
** Science is commonsense classified," said Herbert Spencer, 
fl" Science eliminates the worthless and the useless and then 
makes use of it in something else," said Thomas A. Edison. 
H. H. Rogers utilized the worthless; and the dividends 
of The Standard Oil Company are largely a result of cashing 
in by-products. 

Rogers not only rendered waste products valuable, but 
he utilized human energies, often to the great surprise of 
the owner. 

That gentle Tarbell slant to the effect that "Even the ele- 
vator-boys in the Standard Oil ofiices are hired with an idea 
of their development, " is a great compliment to a man who 
was not only a great business man, but a great teacher. 
And all influential men are teachers — whether they know it 



or not. ^Perhaps we are all teachers — of good or ill — I 
really do not know. 

But the pedagogic instinct was strong in Rogers. He barely 
escaped a professorship. He built schoolhouses, and if he 
had had time would have taught in them. He looked at any 
boy, not for what he was, but for what he might become. 
^ He analyzed every man, not for what he was, but for what 
he might have been, or what he would be. 
Humanity was Rogers' raw stock, not petroleum. 
And his success hinged on bringing humanity to bear on 
petroleum, or, if you please, by mixing brains with rock-oil, 
somewhat as Horace Greeley advised the farmer to mix 
brains with his compost. Qln judging a man we must in 
justice to ourselves ask, **What effect has this man's life, 
taken as a whole, had on the world!" 
To lift out samples here and there and hold them up does not 
give us the man, any more than a sample brick gives you 
a view of the house. 

And viewing the life of Rogers for years, from the time he 
saw the light of a whale-oil lamp in Fairhaven, to the man as 
we behold him now, we must acknowledge his initiative and 
his power. He gave profitable work to millions. 
He directly made homes and comforts possible for thousands 
upon thousands. He helped the young, without number, to 
find themselves in their work and at their work. 
In a material way he added vast millions to the wealth of the 
world by the utilization of products whch were considered 
worthless ^ ^ 

He gloried in the fresh air — in the blasts of winter, or the 


zephyrs of spring. The expanse of heaving, tossing ice was 

just as beautiful to him as the smooth flow of Heinrich 

Hudson's waters, as they hasten to the sea. 

The storied **Twenty-six Broadway" is no den of ogres, no 

gambling-resort of dark and devious ways. It is simply an 

office building, full of busy men and women — workers who 

waste neither time nor money. 

You will find there no figureheads, no gold lace, no pomps 

and ceremonies. If you have business there, you locate your 

man without challenge. All is free, open, simple and direct. 

qOn the top floor is a restaurant, where all lunch in a common 

fraternal way, jolly and jocund, as becomes men who carry 

big burdens. 

The place is democratic to a fault, for the controlling spirits 

of Twenty-six Broadway are men who have come by a rocky 

road, having conquered great difficulties, overcome great 

obstacles, and while often thirsting for human sympathy 

have nevertheless been able to do without it. 

Success is apt to sour, for it begets an opposition that is often 

cruel and unjust. 

Reorganization gives the demagogue his chance; and often 

his literary lyddite strikes close. 

But Rogers was great enough to know that the penalty of 

success must be paid J- He took his medicine, and smiled. 



IME was when a millionaire was a 
man worth a million dollars. But 
that day is passed. 
Next, a millionaire was a man who 
made a million dollars a year. 
That, too, is obsolete. 
The millionaire now is a man who 
spends a million dollars a year. In 
this new and select class, a class 
which does not exist outside of 
America, H. H. Rogers was a 
charter member. 
**He was a royal gentleman," said Booker T. Washington to 
me. '*When I was in need, I held H. H. Rogers in reserve 
until all others failed me, then I went to him and frankly told 
my needs. He always heard me through, and then told me to 
state the figure. He never failed me.' ' 
Rogers gave with a lavish hand, but few of his benefactions, 
comparatively, were known. The newspapers have made 
much of his throwing a hawser to Mark Twain and towing 
the Humorist off of a financial sand-bar. ^ Also, we have 
heard how he gave Helen Keller to the world ; for without 
the help of H. H. Rogers that wonderful woman would still 
be like unto the eyeless fish in the Mammoth Cave. As it 
is, her soul radiates an inward light and science stands un- 
covered. But there were very many other persons and 
institutions that received very tangible benefits from the 
hands of H. H. Rogers. 

One method he had of giving help to ambitious young men 


was to invest in stock in companies that were not quite 
strong enough financially to weather a gale. And very often 
these were very bad investments. Had Rogers stuck to Stand- 
ard Oil his fortune would have been double what it was. But 
for the money he did not much care — he played the game. 
^ Mr. Rogers was too wise to give to individuals. He knew that 
mortal tendency referred to by St. Andre de Ligereaux as 
**Hubbard*s Law," or the Law of Altruistic Injury. This law 
provides that whenever you do for a person a service which 
he is able and should do for himself, you work him a wrong 
instead of a benefit. 

H. H. Rogers sought to give opportunity, not things. When 
he invested a million dollars in a tack-factory in Fairhaven, 
it was with intent to supply employment to every man or 
woman, or boy or girl, in Fairhaven who desired work. 
He wanted to make poverty inexcusable. Yet he realized that 
there were cases where age and disease had sapped the 
person's powers, and to such he gave by stealth, or through 
friends whom he loved and trusted. Mrs. W. P. Winsor, of 
Fairhaven, for instance, worked days and months overtime 
on the bidding of Mr. Rogers caring for emergency cases, 
where girls and boys were struggling to get an education and 
care for aged parents and invalid brothers and sisters; or 
where fate had been unkind and God, seemingly, had forgot. 
^ Houses were painted, mortgages lifted, taxes paid, monu- 
ments erected, roadways laid out, books furnished, trees 
planted, ditches dug, bath-rooms installed, swamps drained, 
bridges built in hundreds of instances. 
This is not philanthropy of a high order, perhaps, but Rogers 



hated both the words **charitable" and ** philanthropic" as 
applied to himself. All he claimed to be was a business man 
who paid his debts and who tried to make others pay theirs. 
The people he helped were the people he knew, or had known, 
and they were folks who had helped him. He never forgot a 
benefit — nor a wrong. He was a very human individual. 
To give to a person where the account is not balanced by a 
mutual service is, probably, to add an enemy to your list. You 
have uncovered the weakness of your man — he is an in- 
competent — and he will never forgive you for making the 
discovery ^ ^ 

When H. H. Rogers paid off Mark Twain's indebtedness to 
the tune of ninety thousand dollars, he did not scratch a poet 
and find an ingrate. 

What he actually discovered was a philosopher and a prophet 
without a grouch. 

Somewhere I have said that there were only two men in 
America who could be safely endowed. One is Luther Bur- 
bank and the other Booker T. Washington. These men have 
both made the world their debtors. They are impersonal men 
— sort of human media through which Deity is creating. 
They ask for nothing — they give everything. 
Mark Twain belongs in this same select list. The difference 
between Mark Twain and Luther Burbank is this : Mark hoes 
his spiritual acreage in bed, while Luther Burbank works in 
the garden. Luther produces spineless cacti, while Mark gives 
spineless men a vertebra. Mark makes us laugh, in order that 
he may make us think. 

The last time I saw H. H. Rogers was in his oflSce at Twenty- 


six Broadway. Out through a half-doorway, leading into a 
private conference-room, I saw a man stretched out on a 
sofa asleep. A great shock of white hair spread out over the 
pillow that held his head ; and Huck Finn snores of peace, in 
rhythmic measures, filled the room. 

Mr. Rogers noticed my glance in the direction of the Morpheus 
music. He smiled and said, ** It *s only Mark — he 's taking 
a little well-earned rest — he was born tired, you know." 
^ If Mark Twain were not a rich man himself, rich in mines of 
truth, fields of uncut fun, and argosies sailing great spiritual 
seas, coming into port laden with commonsense, he would 
long since have turned on his benefactor and nailed his hide 
on the barn-door of obliquity. 

As it is, Mark takes his own, just as Socrates did from Mr. 
and Mrs. Pericles. Aye, or as did Bronson Alcott, who once 
ran his wheelbarrow into the well-kept garden of Ralph 
Waldo Emerson. The Orphic One was loading up with 
potatoes, peas, beans and one big yellow pumpkin, when he 
glanced around and saw the man who wrote ** Self -Reliance" 
gazing at him seriously and steadily over the garden-wall. 
The author of the author of "Little Women" winced, but 
bracing up, gave back stare for stare, and in a voice flavored 
with resentment and defiance said, **I need them!" 
And the owner of the garden grew abashed before that virtuous 
gaze, murmured apologies, and retreated in good order. 
^ And Mark Twain used to explain it thus : ** You see, it is like 
this : Rogers furnishes the plans and I foot the bills. " 
And that was all there was about it. Only a big man can take 
his own without abasement. 



Mark Twain has made two grins grow where there was only 
a growl before. I don*t care where he gets his vegetables — 
nor where he takes a well-earned nap — and neither does he. 

HE average millionaire believes in 
education, because he has heard 
the commodity highly recom- 
mended in the newspapers. Usu- 
ally, he is a man who has not had 
college advantages, and so he is 
filled with the fallacy that he has 
dropped something out of his life. 
We idealize the things that are not 
ours J- ^ 

H. H. Rogers was an exception — 
he was at home in any company. 
He took little on faith. He analyzed things for himself. And 
his opinion was that the old-line colleges tended to destroy 
individuality and smother initiative. He believed that the 
High School gave the key to the situation, and to carry the 
youth beyond this was to run the risk of working his ruin J> 
**The boy who leaves the High School at seventeen, and 
enters actual business, stands a much better chance of success 
than does the youth who comes out of college at twenty-one, 
with the world yet before him, " he said. ^ He himself was 
one of the first class that graduated from the old Fairhaven 
1 60 


Grammar School. He realized that his success in life came 
largely from the mental ammunition that he had gotten there, 
and from the fact that he made quick use of his knowledge. 
Yet he realized that the old Fairhaven High or Grammar 
School was not a model institution. **It has a maximum of 
discipline and a minimum of inspiration," he used to say. 
The changing order of education found a quick response in 
his heart. He never brooded over his early lack of advantages. 
On the other hand, he used often to refer to the fact that his 
childhood was ideal. But all around he saw children whose 
surroundings were not ideal, and these he longed to benefit 
and bless. 

And so in Eighteen Hundred and Eighty, when he was forty 
years of age, he built a Grammar Manual-Training School and 
presented it to the town. It was called the Rogers School. 
Such a gift to a town is enough to work the local immortality 
of the giver. But the end was not yet. In a few years, Rogers — 
or Mrs. Rogers, to be exact — presented to the village a Town 
Hall, beautiful and complete, at a cost of something over two 
hundred and fifty thousand dollars. 

Next came the Millicent Public Library, in memory of a 
beloved daughter. 

When his mother passed away, as a memorial to her, he 
built a church and presented it to the Unitarian denomi- 
nation. It is probably the most complete and artistic church 
in America. Its cost was a million dollars. 
The Fairhaven Water-works System was a present from Mr. 
Rogers jfc ^ 

And lastly was the Fairhaven High School, as fair and fine 



an edifice, and as completely equipped, as genius married to 
money could supply. The only rival this school has in America 
is the Stout High School in Menominee, Wisconsin, which is 
also the gift of an individual. 

No municipality in the world has ever erected and completed 
so good a school — the taxpayers would not allow it. Into our 
school-teaching goes the cheese-paring policies of the 
average villager. In truth, George Bernard Shaw avers that 
we are a nation of villagers. 

The big deeds of the world are always done by individuals. 
One-man power is the only thing that counts. The altruistic 
millionaire is a necessity of progress — he does magnificent 
things, which the many will not and can not do. 
So we find the model town of Fairhaven molded and fashioned 
by her First Citizen. Q Everywhere are the marks of his 
personality, and the tangible signs of his good taste. 
The only political office to which Henry H. Rogers ever 
aspired was that of Street Commissioner of Fairhaven. He 
filled the office to the satisfaction of his constituents, and 
drew his stipend of three dollars a day for several years. 
Good roads was his hobby. Next to this came tree-planting 
and flowers. His dream was to have the earth transformed 
into a vast flower-garden and park and given to the people. 
^ His last item of public work was an object-lesson as to what 
the engineering skill of man can do. He took a great bog 
or swamp that lay to the North of the village and was used 
as a village dumping-ground. He drained this tract, filled in 
with gravel, and then earth, and transformed it into a public 
park of marvelous beauty. 


Abbie Gilford Rogers was the mother of four children — one 
son and three daughters. These children all possess a deal of 
the commonsense of their parents. The career of their 
brilliant father has not dazzled them, neither has his money 
sent them dancing down the primrose path of dalliance. 
They are conservative, modest and sensible folk who do their 
work and abjure the spot-light. 

It is a big handicap to a young man to have a genius for a 
father. Great caution is here advised in selection. Always and 
forever he is compared by publican and proletariat, alike, 
with his great progenitor. If father and son could be compared 
at the same age it might not be so bad. But the boy of twenty 
has to live up to the record of the seasoned warrior of sixty. 
fl It is a satisfaction to see how well H. H. Rogers, Jr., endures 
the test. 

The young man puts forth no effort to rival the great man 
gone. He does not call himself his **successor." He knows 
that men of the type of his father are individuals — God never 
duplicates them — and this perhaps is well. 
The second wife of Mr. Rogers was Emelie Augusta Randel, 
who survives him. Napoleon succeeded through his marshals 
— and so did H. H. Rogers. Mrs. Rogers is a woman of grace 
and a woman of ability. In all of his benefactions this fine 
and able woman was a worthy coadjutor to her husband. 
^ She was his friend, his counselor, his servant, his secretary, 
his wife — loyal and loving, tender and true, honest and 
sincere — wanting little, giving much. 

The last great business effort of H. H. Rogers was the build- 
ing of the Virginian Railroad. 


H . 

H . 


The road connects the great coal-fields of West Virginia with 
tide-water. The route is four hundred and forty-three miles. 
**By this line a thousand million dollars worth of coal is 
made available to the world," said a great engineer to me. 
And then he added, **It will take twenty years, however, to 
prove fully the truth of H. H. Rogers' prophetic vision." 
This was the herculean task of a man in his thirties — not for 
one approaching his seventieth milestone. 
But Rogers built this road alone. He constructed and equipped 
it in a style so complete that it has set a pace in railroading. 
You who know the history of railroads realize that the first 
thing is to get the line through. Two streaks of rust, a tea- 
kettle, and a right of way make a railroad. This allows you 
to list your bonds. But H. H. Rogers neither had bonds nor 
stock for sale. What other man ever put forty millions of 
money, and his life-blood into a railroad? 
Was the work worth the price? 

It were vain to ask. The work is done — the man is dead — and 
that his death was hastened by the work no one can doubt, 
fl Rogers had the invincible heart of youth. He died as he had 
lived, always and forever in the thick of the fight. He had 
that American trinity of virtues, pluck, push and perse- 
verance. Courage, endurance, energy, initiative, ambition, 
industry, good-cheer, sympathy were his attributes. 



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To know Hubbard's Writings 


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you had best experiment with a Bound Volume of " Little 
Journeys." Q In these Brief Biographies you get the Kernel of 
the Hubbard Style and the- Hubbard Philosophy. QAnd as for 
the Books themselves, they are perhaps the Best Value ever 
offered by The Roycrofters. Q Bound Stalwartly in Brown Boards 
and Calfskin, with Gilt Title and silk marker. Printed on Italian 
hand-made paper. Q Each volume contains Six Little Journeys 
with Portrait of Subject. TWO DOLLARS for single volume. 

Volume I. To the Homes of Good Men and Great 

Volume II. To the Homes of American Authors 

Volume III. To the Homes of Famous Women 

Volume IV. To the Homes of American Statesmen 

Volume V. To the Homes of Eminent Painters 

Volume VI. To the Homes of English Authors 

Volume VII. To the Homes of English Authors 

Volume VIII. To the Homes of Great Musicians 

Volume IX. To the Homes of Great Musicians 

Volume X. To the Homes of Eminent Artists 

Volume XI. To the Homes of Eminent Artists 

Volume XII. To the Homes of Eminent Orators 

Volume XIII. To the Homes of Eminent Orators 

Volume XIV. To the Homes of Great Philosophers 

Volume XV. To the Homes of Great Philosophers 

Volume XVI. To the Homes of Great Scientists 

Volume XVII. To the Homes of Great Scientists 

Volume XVIII. To the Homes of Great Lovers 

Volume XIX. To the Homes of Great Lovers 

Volume XX. To the Homes of Great Reformers 

Volume XXI. To the Homes of Great Reformers 

Volume XXII. To the Homes of Great Teachers 

Volume XXIII. To the Homes of Great Teachers 

Volume XXIV. To the Homes of Great Business Men 

Volume XXV. To the Homes of Great Business Men 


H Satire in 7oup Seizures 


This is a silly play, eliminated for relief of 
the Author, and now published for the 
first time. In the cast are doctors with 
whiskers, doctors clean-shaven, wise old 
doctors, fresh and forward internes, smart 
young surgeons, puffy family physicians, 
and a specialist who has traveled far and 
acknowledges that he knows nothing. Of 
course there are nurses and pretty 
patients, also a preacher and an obese 
limb of the law^. Cupid enters, for you 
can't keep the rogue out of even a hospital, 
and all ends happily as a play should. 
^Painfully illustrated on butcher's paper. 
Bound in human hide, limp, lined with 
iodoform-gauze, sewed with catgut, and 
flavored with formaldehyde. Price, $2.00 

p. S.— Not being able to get enough human hide we are using 
suede sheep, instead. 

The Roycrofters, East Aurora, N. Y. 

To H\\ Roycitofteits 

THE TIME for making your Selection 
of Roycroftie Christmas Gifts IS NOW 

OEND today for one — or all three of the 
*^ following Catalogs: they describe inti- 
mately Roycroft Books, Crafts and Carpentry 
— and suggest many unique, exceptional and 
acceptable Presents, at Purse Proper Prices: 

The Book-Catalog 

The Puptiitupc-Cataloa 

The Leatbep-Book 

Holiday week for us, usually, carries an under- 
tone of bass growls and shrill falsettos from 
lost souls who failed to order their Roycroft 
goods for presents until the day before Christ- 
mas. And then expected us to get the Choice 
Things to them by Christmas Morning. And 
the moral is as given : ORDER EARLY. 

The Rovcitoftcits l^fli^^?i 




Ralph Waldo Emerson 


^u m 






H . H 


Vol. 25 


No. 5 




S[g N//HIVHn^^ 

FPi9J- Fw/ancm 


Vol. 25 


No. 6 





91 He 



HE railroads 

ave been 

the greatest 

civilizing influence 
which this old world 

has ever seen— Marshall Rdd 

Entered at tlie post-office in East Aurora, New York, for trtmsmission as second-class matter. 
SopyTight, 1009, by Elbert Hubbard, Bditor and Publisher. 

Co €:f)E Jf aitfiful 

3N certain Universities there is what is known as the 
Sabbatical Year. That is to say, one year in seven is 
given to the teacher or professor as his own: this 
for the good of himself — and the school. 
flMr. Hubbard has written one Little Journey a 
month for fifteen years, or in all One Hundred Eighty of 
these biographies in tabloid. 

flit is believed, judging from the continued sale, and the 
gradually growing demand from High Schools, Colleges 
and Libraries, that Little Journeys will have a permanent 
place in the world's literature. 

fl Realizing the danger of the human mind to run in 
grooves, and the tendency of a writer to do mental goose- 
step, Mr. Hubbard proposes to take the year Nineteen 
Hundred Ten as a Sabbatical Year, for the good of him- 
self — and his readers. 

flMr. Hubbard feels that a leisurely tour of Europe, amid 
the sights and scenes of places made sacred by the presence 
of good men and great — eke women, withal — will obviate 
the risk^f a decline of raw stock and recharge his cosmic 

flAnd this to the end that all those dear friends, whose 
love and loyalty Mr. Hubbard so prizes and ever hopes that 
he may merit, may not have to drowse over images poppy- 
strewn with the trite, sprinkled with the commonplace, and 
punctured by the obvious. 

flMr. Hubbard feels very sure that he is in sight of 
Untapped Reservoirs, and the refined product of these he 
expects to present to the Faithful in the years to come. 
flThe Philistine and The Fra will be continued 
as heretofore. These being mostly comments on 
the Passing Show can be written anywhere, 
amid the rush and throng, the quiet of country 
by-roads, or those places where the spirit of art 
lingers. The intent is to make these Magazines 
more worthy of that select clientele which has 
made them possible, than ever before. flMay all 
the good that the Loving deserve be theirs I 

Offer Number Ten 


1— THE FRA MAGAZINE for One Year 

This is Mr. Hubbard's Latest Book. Bound in boards 


Consisting of the following paper-bound booklets : 

A Message to Garcia The Cigarettist 

The Boy from Missouri Valley Pasteboard Proclivities 

How I Found My Brother The Roycroft Shop — A His- 
Helpful Hints for Business tory 

Helpers The Divine in Man 

Get Out or Get In Line Hubbard -Albertson Debate 

by Schneider on Japan Paper. Suitable for Framing 




East Aurora, New York 
FRIENDS:— I enclose TWO DOLLARS and accept your 
Offer Number Ten. So send me THE FRA Magazine and all 
the ei^oluments and perquisites as per your offer. 




Extra Postage : to Canada, Forty Cents ; to Europe, Sixty Cents 

One Dollar for All! 


for one Year, as issued 


To be read and given away as tracts to the unwashed 
and unregenerate 


on Japan Vellum, by Gaspard. Suitable for Framing 

All for One Dollar! 

THE PHILISTINE, East Aurora, N. Y. 

Enclosed find ONE DOLLAR, and I request you to send 
me THE PHILISTINE Magazine for One Year, and the 
twelve Back Numbers of THE PHILISTINE, also the Etching 
of Fra Elbertus, by Gaspard, at once, as your Special Offer. 


Remit a One-Dollar Bill by mail. The United States mails are safe 
Registered Letters, Post-Office Orders and Bank-Drafts are risky 

Extra Postage: to Canada, Twelve Cents; to Europe, Twenty-four Cents. 


Belt : Made of finest vere tanned leather, of won- 
drous bronze coloring. Hand-modeled from end to end. 
Lined with soft, green leather and clasped with an 
Invisible Clasp. Any desired length .... $4.50 

Music-Satchel: Durable leather, stained an ebony 
hue, and modeled with black-grape design. Capacious 
and roomy compartment, with double lock, allowing 
for various sizes of Music. Reinforced handle, 18x8. 
Price $15.00 

Hand-Bag : Handsome bag of Art Brown shade, lined 
with gold calfskin. Sequestered inner pocket, holding 
leather coin-purse of identical coloring and design. 
Conventionalized modeling. Gun-metal frame and 
clasp $20.00 

Card-Case: Made to match Hand-Bag (and Purse). 
The edges are turned, and the lining is of dressed 
Russian Calf. Four compartments .... $4.00 

Jewel-Box: Circular-shaped Box, five inches or so 
in diameter and two inches deep. Made of dark green 
leather, modeled in Oak-Leaf design — velvet-leather 
lining. Leather slides for stick-pins and brooches, $6.00 

Just^send^Her Roycroft Modeled Leather — and you '11 
make no Mistake. 

THE ROYCROFTERS, East Aurora, N. Y. 


rrn thf HOMFyrjFi 

UtiMh-V.I HII n 






Sg Sg Mh^^-vn xm Sig ig 

pmm^ M ■ V ■ KT ^TTT^ ^gia 

THE armed fleets of an enemy approaching our harbors would be 
no more alarming than the relentless advance of a day when 
we shall have neither sufficient food nor the means to purchase it 
for our population. The farmers of the nation must save it in the 
future, just as they built its greatness in the past. — James J. Hill. 



credential, at least, to greatness — 
he was born in a log house. But 
let the painful fact be stated at 
once, without apology, that he 
could never be President of the 
United States, because this historic 
log house was situated in Canada. 
^ The exact spot is about three 
miles from the village of Rock- 
wood, Wellington County, Ontario. 
^ Rockwood is seven miles East 
of Guelph, forty from Toronto, and a hundred from Buffalo. 
^ Mr. Hill well remembers his first visit to Toronto. He went 
with his father, with a load of farm produce. It took two 
days to go and two to return, and for their load they got 
the princely sum of seven dollars, with which they counted 
themselves rich. 

James Hill, the father of James Jerome Hill, was a North of 
Ireland man ; his wife was Anne Dunbar, good and Scotch. I 
saw a portrait of Anne Dunbar Hill in Mr. HilPs residence at 
St. Paul, and was also shown the daguerreotype from which 
it was painted. It shows a woman of decided personality, 
strong in feature, frank, fearless, honest, sane and poised. 
fl The dress reveals the columnar neck that goes only with 
superb bodily vigor — the nose is large, the chin firm, the 
mouth strong. She looks like a Spartan, save for the pensive 
eyes that gaze upon a world from which she has passed, 
hungry and wistful. The woman certainly had ambition 
and aspiration, which were unsatisfied. 
James J. Hill is the son of his mother. His form, features, 
mental characteristics and ambition are the endowment of 
mother to son. 



It was a tough old farm, then as now. As I tramped across 
its undulating acres, a week ago, and saw the stone fences 
and the piles of glacial drift, that Jim Hill's hands helped 
pick up, I thought of the poverty of the situation when 
no railroad passed that way, and wheat was twenty cents a 
bushel, and pork one cent a pound — all for lack of a market I 
qjim Hill as a boy fought the battle of life with ax, hoe, 
maul, adz, shovel, pick, mattock, drawshave, rake and pitch- 
fork. Wool was carded and spun and woven by hand. The grist 
was carried to the mill on horseback, or if the roads were 
bad, on the farmer's back. All of this pioneer experience came 
to James J. Hill as a necessary part of his education. 
Also, since his ninth year he has looked out upon the world 
of friends and foes with one eye, the sight of the right eye 
having been destroyed by a playmate shooting an arrow 
into it. The accident at the time must have been a terrible 
one, as it knocked the eyeball from its socket. 
But the eye was pushed back, and bandaged by a skilful 
country doctor, of the good old-fashioned kind — say, Dr. 
Maclure, told of by Ian MacLaren. 

" Will he be able to see — will he be able to see? " asked the 
anxious mother. 

" We will know in four weeks, " was the doctor's reply. 
The four weeks passed, and the boy in the meantime was 
quite the hero of the vicinity. Next to having a sore toe, a 
boy with a bandaged eye is distinguished. Jim Hill probably 
had both, for he never wore shoes, save in midwinter, until 
he was fifteen and clerked in a store and sold calico, combs 
and hairpins — then he just had to wear shoes. Stone-bruises 
were the rule, and a loose toe-nail, under which the clover 
caught, was no uncommon thing. 

And the days rolled around, as the days do. The four weeks 
arrived. The doctor came, removed the bandage, pushed open 


the lids — and the eye was sightless. ^ The optic nerve had 
been severed or severely shocked. 

The danger then was that through s)nnpathy the other 
eye would go, too. But the vigor of the lad saved him, and 
for over sixty years James J. Hill has seen more with one 
lamp than the vast majority of men see with two. 
When this accident occurred, the good country doctor prom- 
ised to take the lad into his office and teach him the 
mystery of medicine. That the boy should be a doctor was 
the fond ambition of his mother until the lad was fourteen, 
and even after. The old doctor tried to soften things by telling 
of a blind doctor he knew who could make a most wonderful 
diagnosis, all by the sense of touch. 

James himself liked the idea of being a doctor. He made a 
big stab at a borrowed Abemathy's "Anatomy " with his one 
good peeper, evenings, over the kitchen-table. Even yet, if 
you are not careful, he will refer to the tibia and fibula and 
tell you of the man's os coccyx or his alveolar processes. 
^ Stephen Girard's sightless eye was sunken and gone, but 
few, even among those who know Mr. Hill well, realize his 
physical disability. The eye appears all right, yet his habit of 
wheeling full around and facing the visitor makes you know 
the cause why — after you are told. 

I once heard him tell that story about Admiral Nelson 
when the flagship signaled the " Temeraire " to cease 
firing. An aide called the attention of the Admiral to 
the signal. He placed his field-glass to his blind eye and 
trained it in the direction indicated. 

" I don't see any signal, " he answered. " Keep firing until 
you sink all the enemy in range, or until I tell you to quit. " 
€[ I never knew Mr. Hill to speak of his blind eye to anybody. 
His habit is to talk about affirmative things. Like that other 
valiant Canadian, Dr. Richard Maurice Bucke (for whom 



Mr. Hill always had a great affection), who had both feet 
frozen off, and limped joyously through life, no word of 
complaint escapes his lips. He has found life good. 
But his love of beauty and color, and his taste for art, have, 
possibly, been augmented by the fact which he has realized 
that to him might come a day when, like Milton, he could 
only look out upon this fair old world through the eyes of 
another. For let it be stated that Mr. Hill began to collect 
pictures and gems when he was a poor man, comparatively, 
and at a time when the money spent for a ruby or a copy 
of a Rubens was a sacrifice. 

Once in Mr. Hill's presence I chanced to quote that saying 
of Victor Hugo, " To be blind and to be loved — what happier 
fate !" And the grizzled railroad king turned, in his quick and 
abrupt way, and said, "Eh! what *s that? I did n*t understand 
you ! Please say that again." 

And when I had repeated the remark, he gazed out of the 
car-winddw, and said nothing. 

Life in Canada West in the Forties was essentially the same 
as life in Western New York at the same period. The country 
was a forest, traversed with swamps and sink-holes, on 
which roads were built by laying down long logs and across 
these, small logs. This formed the classic corduroy road. 
When ten years of age James Hill contracted to build a 
mile of corduroy road, between his father's farm and the 
village. For this labor his father promised him a two-year- 
old colt. 

The boy built the road all right. It took him six months, but 
the grades were easy and the curves so-so. The Tom Sawyer 
plan came in handy, otherwise it is probable there would 
have been a default on the time-limit. QAnd Jim got the colt. 
^He rode the animal for half a year, back and forth all winter, 
from the farm to the village, where he attended the famous 


H I L 

Rockwood Academy. Then some one to whom the elder 
Hill was indebted, signified a desire for the colt, and the 
father turned the horse over to the creditor. When little Jim 
went out and found the stall empty he had a good cry, for 
you can cry just the same with one good eye as two. 
Three years after this, when his father died, he cried again, 
and that was the last time he ever wept over any of his own 
troubles jt J^ 

ROM his seventh to his fourteenth 
year young Jim Hill attended the 
Rockwood Academy. This " Acad- 
emy " had about thirty boarding- 
boys and a dozen day-scholars. 
Jim Hill was a " day-scholar, " 
and the pride of the master. The 
boy was studious, appreciative, 
grateful. He was n*t so awfully 
clever, but he was true. 
The master of the Academy was 
Professor William Wetherald, a 
Quaker, stem to view, but very gentle of heart. His wife was 
of the family of Balls. The Ball family moved from Virginia 
two generations before, to Western New York, and then when 
the Revolutionary War was on, slid over to Ontario for 
political reasons, best known to themselves. 
There was quite an emigration to Canada about then, 
including those worthy Mohawk Indians whose descendants, 
including Longboat the runner and the Princess Viroqua, are 
now to be found in the neighborhood of Brantford. 



And certainly the Indians were wise, for Canada has treated 
the red brother with a degree of fairness quite unknown 
on this side of the line. As for the Tories — but what 's the 
need of arguing! 

The Balls trace to the same family that produced Mary 
Ball, and Mary Ball was the mother of George Washington — 
so tangled is this web of pedigree ! And George Washington, 
be it known, got his genius from his mother, not from the 
tribe of Washington, fl William Wetherald died at an advanced 
age — near ninety, I believe — only a short time ago. It is cus- 
tomary for a teacher to prophesy — after the pupil has arrived, 
and declare, " What did I tell you! " 

Wetherald looked after young Hill at school with almost 
a father*s affection, and prophesied for him great things — 
only the " great things " were to be in the realm of science, 
oratory and literature. 

Along about Eighteen Hundred Eighty-eight, when James 
J. Hill was getting his feet well planted on the earth, 
he sent for his old teacher to come to St. Paul. Wetherald 
spent several weeks there, riding over the Hill roads in a 
private car, and discussing old times with the owner of the 
car and the railroad. ^ Mr. Hill insisted that Wetherald should 
remain and teach the Hill children, but Fate said otherwise. 
fl There is no doubt that Hill*s love of books, art, natural 
history, and his habit of independent thought were largely 
fixed in his nature through the influence of this fine Friend, 
teacher of children. 

The Quaker listens for the "Voice," and then acts without 
hunting up precedents. In other words, he does the things 
he wants to do. ^ Mr. Hill's long hair and full beard form a 
sort of unconscious tribute to Wetherald. 
In fact, let James J. Hill wear a dusty miller's suit and a 
wide-brimmed hat and you get the true type of "Hicksite.** 



^ James J. Hill is a score of men in one, as every great 
man is. But when the kindly, philosophic, paternal and 
altruistic "Yim Hill " is in the saddle, you will see the 
significance of this story: Just after Mr. Hill had gotten 
possession of the Burlington, he made a trip over the road. 
A rear-end flagman at Galesburg was boasting to some of 
his mates about how he had gone over the division with 
the new "boss of the ranch." 

Here a listener puts in a question, thus : " What kind of a 
lookin' fellow is th* oV man? " 

And he of the red lantern and torpedoes scratches his head, 
and explains, " Well, you see, it *s like this : He looks like 
Jesus Christ, only he is heavier set! " 

HE father of James J. Hill was 
a worthy man, with a good hold 
on the simple virtues, a weak 
chin, and a cosmos of slaty gray. 
^ His only claim to immortality 
lies^in the fact that he was the 
father of his son. Pneumonia 
took him, as it often does the 
physically strong, and he passed 
out before he had reached his 
prime. " Death is the most joy- 
fullest thing in life, " said Thomas 

Carlyle to Milbum, the blind preacher, " when it transfers 

responsibility to those big enough to shoulder it, for that 's 

the only way you can make a man. " 

I once saw a boy of fourteen on the prairies of Kansas 



transformed into a man, between the rising of the sun and 
its setting. His father was crushed beneath a wagon that 
sluiced and toppled in crossing a gully. The hub caught the 
poor man square on the chest, and after we got him out he 
never spoke. 

Six children and the mother were left, the oldest boy being 
fourteen ^ ^ 

A grave was dug there on the prairie the next day, and this 
boy of fourteen patted down the earth over his father's 
grave, with the back of a spade. He then hitched up the 
horses, rounded up the cattle, and headed the cavalcade for 
the West. ^He was a man, and in after-life he proved himself 
one. ^ On the death of his father, Jim Hill's school-days were 
done. His aptitude in mathematics, his ability to keep 
accounts, and his general disposition to make himself 
useful secured him a place in the village store, which was 
also the Post-office. His pay was one dollar a week. 
This training in the country store proved of great value, 
just as it did in the case of H. H. Rogers, George Peabody 
and so many other men of mark. 
It is one thing to get a job, and another to hold it. 
Jim Hill held his job, and his salary was raised before 
the end of the first year to three dollars a week. 
On the strength of this prosperity, the struggle on the 
old farm with its stumps, boulders and mortgage was given 
up and the widow moved her little brood to town. The log 
house, on the rambling main street of the village, is now 
pointed out to visitors. Here the mother sewed for neighbors, 
took in washing, made garden, and with the help of her 
boy Jim, grew happy, and fairly prosperous — more pros- 
perous than the family had ever been. 
Thus matters went on until Jim was in his eighteenth year, 
when the wanderlust got hold of the young man. His mother 



saw it coming and being wise did not apply the brake. QMan 
is a migrating animal. To sit still and stay in one place 
is to vegetate. 

Jim with twenty dollars in his pocket started for Toronto 
on foot with a bundle on a stick, followed by the prayers of 
his mother, the gaping wonder of the children, and the 
blessing of Professor Wetherald. 

Toronto was interesting, but too near home to think of as 
a permanent stopping-place. A leaky little steamer ran over 
to Fort Niagara every other day. Jim took passage, reached 
the foreign shore, walked up to Niagara Falls, and the 
next day tramped on to Buffalo. 

This was in the wonderful year of Eighteen Hundred 
Fifty-six, the year the Republican Party was born at Bloom- 
ington, Illinois. It was a time of unrest, of a healthy discon- 
tent and goodly prosperity, for things were in motion. 
The docks at Buffalo were all a-bustle with emigrants 
going West — forever West. 

Jim Hill, aged eighteen, strong, healthy — ^farmer boy, 
lumberman, clerk — shipped as roustabout on a schooner 
bound for Chicago. His pay for the round trip was to be 
ten dollars, and board, the money payable when the boat 
got back to Buffalo. If he left the ship at Chicago, he was to 
get no cash. 

The boat reached Chicago in ten days. It was a great trip — 
full of mild adventure and lots of things that would have 
surprised the folks at Rockwood. Jim got a job on the docks 
as checker-off, or understudy to a freight-clerk. The pay 
was a dollar a day. He now sent his original twenty dollars 
back to his mother to prove to her that he was prosperous 
and money was but a bagatelle and a burden. 
A month, and he had joined the ever-moving westward tide. 
He was headed for California, the land of shining nuggets 



J . 


and rainbow hopes. flHe reached Rock Island, and saw a sign 
out at a sawmill, "Men Wanted." He knew the business and 
was given work on sight. In a week his mathematics came in 
handy and he was handed a lumber-rule and blank-book. 
flMr. Hill recalls yet his first sight of a Mississippi River 
steamboat coming into Davenport. The tall smoke-stacks 
belching fire, the graceful, swanlike motion, the marvelous 
beauty of the superstructure, the wonderful letter "D" in gold, 
or something that looked like gold, swung between the stacks ! 
Qlt was just dusk, and as the boat glided in toward the shore, 
a big torch was set ablaze, the gangplank was run out to 
the weird song of the colored deck-hands, and miracle and 
fairy-land arrived. ^ For a month whenever a steamboat 
blew its siren whistle, Jim was on the wharf, open-mouthed, 
gaping, wondering, admiring. QOne day he could stand it no 
longer. He threw up his job and took passage on the sailing 
palace, " Molly Devine," for Dubuque. 
Here he changed boats, and boarded a smaller boat, a stern- 
wheeler, deck passage for St. Paul, a point which seemed to 
the young man somewhere near the North Pole. 
He was going to get his fill of steamboat riding for once. It 
was his intention to remain at St. Paul a couple of days, see 
St. Anthony's Falls and Minnehaha, and then take the same 
boat back down the River. 
But something induced him to change his plans. 



J . 


HE two days on the steamboat 
had wearied Jim. The prenatal 
Scotch idea of industry was upon 
him, and conscience had begun 
to squirm. He applied for work as 
soon as he walked out on the 
levee. The place was the office of 
the steamboat company. He stated 
in an offhand way that he had had 
experience on the water-front in 
Chicago, Rock Island and Daven- 
port .^ ,^ 

He was hired on the spot as shipping-clerk with the gratuitous 
remark, " If you have n*t sense enough to figure, you are 
surely strong enough to hustle. " 

The agents of the steamboat line were J. W. Bass & Company. 
Hill got along all right. He was day-clerk or night-clerk, 
just as the boats came in. And it is wonderful how steamboats 
on the Mississippi usually arrive at about two o' clock in 
the morning. 

Jim slept on a cot in the office, so as to be on hand when a 
boat arrived and to help unload. Now, it was the duty of the 
shipping-clerk to check off the freight as it was brought 
ashore. Also, it was the law of steamboating that clerks 
took their meals on board the boat, if they were helping to 
unload her. Now as Jim had food and a place to sleep when 
a Dubuque and St. Paul steamboat was tied at the levee, all 
the meals he had to buy were those when no steamboat 
was in sight. 

Being essentially Scotch, Jim managed to time his meals so 
as to last over. And sometimes if a boat was stuck on a 
sand-bar he did the MacFadden act for a whole day. It be- 
came a sort of joke in the office, and we hear of Mr. Bass, 



the agent) shouting up to the pilot-house of a steamboat, 
" Avast there, sir, for five minutes until Jim Hill stows his 
hold. " ^ ^ 

A part of Jim*s work was to get wood for fuel for the boats. 
This was quite a business in itself. He once got a big lot of 
fuel and proudly piled it on the levee, mountain-high, in 
anticipation of several steamboats. 

A freshet came one night, the river rose, and carried off 
every stick, so that when the " Mary Ann " arrived there 
was no fuel. 

" Wait until Jim Hill eats his breakfast and perhaps he *11 
get an armful of wood for us, " shouted down the captain 
in derision. 

After that, Jim managed to load up a flatboat or two, and 
always had a little wood in reserve. ^ The young man was 
now fairly launched in business. The mystery of manifest- 
ing, billing, collecting; the matter of "shorts," "overs," 
and figuring damages were to him familiar. 
The Territory of Minnesota was organized in Eighteen 
Hundred Forty-nine, and did not become a State until 
Eighteen Hundred Fifty-eight. In Eighteen Hundred Fifty- 
seven there was not a single mile of railway in the Terri- 
tory. But in that year. Congress authorized the Territory 
to give alternate sections of public lands to any company 
that would build a railway through them. 
Through this stimulus, in the latter part of Eighteen Hundred 
Fifty-seven, there was organized a company with the 
ambitious title of " The Minnesota and Pacific Railroad 
Company. " Its line extended from the steamboat-wharf in 
St. Paul to the Falls of St. Anthony. There were ten miles 
of track, including sidings, one engine, two box cars, and 
a dozen flat cars for logs. 

The railroad didn't seem to thrive. There was no paying 


passenger traffic to speak of. Passengers got aboard all right, 
but on being pressed for fares they felt insulted and jumped 
off, just as you would now if you got a ride with a farmer 
and he asked you to pay. Possibly, a rudimentary disincli- 
nation to pay fare still remains in most of us, like the 
hereditary indisposition of the Irish to pay rent. ^ No one 
then ever thought it possible that a railroad could compete 
with a steamboat, and it was a long time after this before 
Commodore Vanderbilt had the temerity to build a railroad 
along the banks of the Hudson, and was called a lunatic. 
flSo there being no passenger traffic, the farmers carrying 
their grists to mill, and the logs being jfloated down the river 
to the mills, the railroad was in a bad way. 
Something had to be done, so the Minnesota and Pacific 
was reorganized and a new road, the St. Paul and Pacific, 
bought it out, with all of its land grants. The intent of the 
new road was to strike right up into the woods for ten or 
twenty miles above Minneapolis and bring down logs that 
otherwise would have to be hauled to the river. 
For a time this road paid, with the sale of the odd-numbered 
sections of land that went with it. 

In Eighteen Hundred Sixty-seven, James J. Hill became 
the St. Paul agent of this railroad. He had quit his job with 
J. W. Bass, to become agent for the Northwestern Packet 
Line, and as the railroad ran right to his door he found it 
easy to serve both the steamboat company and the railroad. 
^ You will often hear people tell about how James J. Hill 
began his railroad career as a station-agent, but it must be 
remembered that he was a station-agent, plus. The agents of 
steamboat-lines in those days were usually merchants or 
men who were financially responsible. ^ And James J. Hill 
became the St. Paul agent of the St. Paul and Pacific because 
he was a man of resource, with ability to get business for 




the railroad. ^ As the extraordinary part of Mr. Hill's career 
did not begin until he was forty years of age, our romantic 
friends who write of him often picture him as a failure up 
to that time. ^ The fact is, he was making head and gath- 
ering gear right along. These twenty-two years, up to the time 
he became a railroad owner, were years of intense activity. 

HILE yet a clerk for J. W. Bass 
& Company, Mr. Hill made the ac- 
quaintance of Norman Kittson, as 
picturesque a figure as ever wore 
a coonskin cap, and evolved from 
this to all the refinements of Pic- 
cadilly, only to discard these and 
return to the Simple Life. 
Kittson had been connected with 
the Hudson Bay Company. When 
Hill met him, he was running a 
fast express to Fort Garry, now 
Winnipeg, going over the route with ox-carts. In summer 
it took one month to go, and the same to return. In winter 
dog-sleds were used and the trip was made more quickly, 
q Kittson was the inventor and patentee of the Red River 
Ox-cart. It was a vehicle made of wood, save for the linch- 
pins. The wheels were enormous, some being ten feet in 
diameter. It was Kittson's theory that if you could make 
your wheel high enough it would eliminate friction and run 
of its own momentum. The wheels were made by boring 
and pinning plank on plank, criss-cross, and then chalking 
off with a string from the center. Then you sawed out your 


wheel, and there you were. flThe creaking of a train of 
these ox-carts could be heard five miles. Kittson had the 
government contract for carrying the mails, and managed, 
with the help of trading in furs and loading up with mer- 
chandise on his own account, to make considerable money. 
qWhen Hill was in his twenties he went over the route with 
Kittson, and made several trips, also, for his friend alone 
with dog-sleds, when there was a rush of freight. 
On one such occasion he had one companion, a half-breed, 
of uncertain character, but who was taken along as a guide, 
he being familiar with the route. It was midwinter, the snow 
was heavy and deep, there were no roads, and much of the 
way led over frozen lakes and along streams. To face the 
blizzards of that country, alone, at that time required the 
courage of the seasoned pioneer. 

Hill did n*t much like the looks of his companion. And after 
a week out, when the fellow suggested their heading for 
Lake Superior, and dividing their cargo. Hill became alarmed. 
The man was persistent and inclined to be quarrelsome. 
Each man had a knife and a rifle. 

Hill waited until they reached a high ridge. The snow lay 
dazzling white as far as the eye could reach. The nearest 
habitation was fifty miles away. 

Under pretense of fixing the harness on his dogs Jim got 
about forty feet from his man, quickly cocked his rifle and 
got a bead on the half-breed before the fellow knew what 
was up. At the word of command the rogue dropped his 
rifle and held up his hands. ^ The next order was to right 
— about — face — march! The order was obeyed. 
On account of his blind right eye, Jim used a rifle left-handed, 
but he was a sure shot and a quick one. ^ The half-breed 
knew all this. 

A double-quick was ordered, and the half-breed lit out, 




quickening his pace as he got out of range. Q Hill then 
picked up the other rifle, put whip to his dogs, and by night 
had gone so far that he could not be overtaken. flWhen Jim 
came back that way a few weeks later, he kept his one critical 
eye peeled for danger, but he never saw his friend again. 
^ When I heard Mr. Hill relate this story he told it as simply 
as he might relate how he went out to milk the cows. 
One of the men present asked, " Did n*t you feel sorry for 
the fellow, to turn him adrift on that frozen plain, without 
food or fuel? " ^ Mr. Hill hesitated, and slowly answered, 
" I thought of that, but preferred to send him adrift rather 
than to kill him, or let him kill me. And anjrway he had only 
fifty miles to travel in order to strike an Indian village. And 
when he was there we were just one hundred and fifty miles 
apart. You see I am a mathematician. It is a great joy to 
figure out what a long distance you are from some folks." 

N his business of supplying cord- 
wood to steamboats, Mr. Hill had 
a partner, grizzled and gray, by 
the name of Griggs. Griggs was a 
typical pioneer — always moving 
on. He bought a little stem-wheel 
steamboat, and shipped its boiler 
and engine across to Breckinridge, 
where he had the joy of running 
the first steamboat, " The North- 
west, " on the Red River. 
Mr. Hill built the second steamboat 
on the Red River, " The Swallow, " on the order of Kittson, 


who bought the boat as soon as she had shown her ability 
to run. All the metal used in its making, which of course 
included engine and boiler, was sent across from St. Paul. 
^ And if the outfit was gotten out of a wrecked Mississippi 
stem-wheeler, what boots it I 

Then it was that Kittson, having also bought the Griggs 
steamboat, was given the title of Commodore, a distinction 
which he carried through life. 

By this time several things had happened. One was that 
Hill had brought up to St. Paul a steamboat-load of coal. 
q This coal was mined near Peoria, on the Illinois River, 
floated down to the Mississippi, then carried up to St. Paul. 
To bring coal to this Newcastle of wood was regarded as 
deliberate folly. 

By this time the St. Paul and Pacific had gotten a track laid 
clear through to Breckinridge, so as to connect with Com- 
modore Kittson's steamboats. When Hill first reached St. 
Paul there was no agriculture North of that point. The 
wheat-belt still lingered around Northern Illinois and 
Southern Wisconsin. The fact that seeds can be acclimated, 
like men and animals, was still in the ether. 
The Red River Valley is a wonderfully rich district. Louis 
Agassiz first mapped it, and wrote a most interesting essay 
on it. Here was a wonderful prehistoric lake, draining to 
the South through the Minnesota and Mississippi Rivers, 
and thence to the Gulf of Mexico. By a volcanic rise of the 
land on the Southern end, centuries ago, the current was 
turned and ran North, making what we call the Red River, 
emptying into Lake Winnipeg, which in turn has an outlet 
into Hudson Bay. 

Agassiz came up the Mississippi River on a trip in Eighteen 
Hundred Sixty-five. The boat he traveled on was one 
for which James J. Hill was agent. Naturally, it devolved 



I L L 

on Hill to show the visitors the sights thereabouts. And 
among these sights happened to be our friend Kittson, who 
full of enthusiasm offered to pilot the party across to the 
Red River. They accepted and ascended to Fort Garry. 
Agassiz, full of scientific enthusiasm, wrote out his theory 
about the prehistoric lake. And science, now, the world over, 
calls the Red River Valley, "Lake Agassiz." With Louis 
Agassiz was his son Alexander, a fine young man with 
pedagogic bent, headed for his father's place as Curator of 
the Museum at Harvard. ^ From Winnipeg the party was 
supplied an Indian guide, who took them across to Lake 
Superior. Then it was that Alexander Agassiz saw the 
wonders of Lake Superior copper and Lake Superior iron. 
And Harvard lost a professor, but the world gained a multi- 
millionaire. Louis Agassiz had no time to make money, 
but his son Alexander was not thus handicapped. 
The report of Agassiz on the mineral wealth of Lake Superior 
corroborated Mr. Hill's own opinions of this country, which 
he had traversed with dog-sleds. Money was scarce, but he, 
even then, made a small investment in Lake Superior 
mineral lands, and has been increasing it ever since. A 
recent present to the stockholders of the Great Northern of 
an iron tract worth many millions, had its germ in that 
memorable day when he met the Agassiz party on the levee in 
St. Paul, and unconsciously changed their route as planned. 



J • 


HERE are two ways for a traveling 
man to make money: One is to 
sell the goods, and the other [is 
to work the expense account. 
There are two ways to make 
money by managing a railroad : 
One is through service to the 
people along the line of the road; 
the other is through working the 
bondholders J^ jt 
It was the eventful year of 
Eighteen Hundred Seventy-six, 
really got up steam. He was then 

before James J. Hill 
thirty-eight years old. 

He was agent of the St. Paul and Pacific, and in this capacity 
he had seen that the road was being run with the idea of 
making money by milking the bondholders. 
The line had been pushed just as long as the bondholders of 
Holland would put up money. To keep things going, interest 
had been paid to the worthy Dutch out of the money they 
had supplied. Gradually, the phlegmatic ones grew wise, and 
the purse-strings of the Netherlanders closed. For hundreds 
of years Holland had sought a quick Northwest passage to 
India. Little did she know she was now warm on the trail. 
^ Little, also, did Jim Hill know. 

The equipment — engines and cars — was borrowed, so when 
the receiver was appointed he found only the classic streak 
of rust and right of way. No doubt both of these would have 
been hypothecated if it were possible. ^ Mr. Hill knew the 
Northwest as no other man did, excepting, possibly, Norman 
Kittson. He had traversed the country from St. Paul to 
Winnipeg on foot, by ox-carts, on horseback, by dog-sledges. 
He had seen it in all seasons and under all conditions. He 



knew the Red River Valley would raise wheat, and he 
knew that the prosperity of old Lake Agassiz meant the 
prosperity of the railroad that ran between that rich valley 
and St. Anthony's Falls, where the great flouring-mills were 
situated, the center of the flour zone having been shifted 
from Rochester, New York, to Minneapolis, Minnesota jt 
To gain possession of the railroad and run it so as to build up 
the country, and thus prosper as the farmers prospered, 
was his ambition. He was a farmer by prenatal tendency and 
by education, a commission man by chance, and a master 
of transportation by instinct. Every farmer should be 
interested in good roads, for his problem is quite as much to 
get his products to market as to raise them. Jim Hill focussed 
on getting farm products to market. While he was a Cana- 
dian by birth, he had now become a citizen of the United 
States. His old friend, Commodore Kittson, was a Canadian 
by birth, and never got beyond taking out his first papers. 
The Winnipeg agent of the Hudson Bay Company was 
Donald Alexander Smith, a hardy Scotch burr of a man, 
with many strong and sturdy oatmeal virtues. He had gone 
with the Hudson Bay Company as a laborer, became a 
guide, a trader, and then an agent. Hill and Kittson laid 
before Smith a plan, very plain, very simple. Buy up the 
bonds of the St. Paul and Pacific from the Dutch bondholders, 
foreclose, and own the railroad! 

Now, Donald A. Smith's connection with the Hudson Bay 
Company gave him a standing in Montreal banking circles, 
and to be trusted by Montreal is to have the ear of London. 
^ Donald A. Smith went down to Montreal and laid the plan 
before George Stephen, manager of the Bank of Montreal. 
If the Bank of Montreal endorsed a financial scheme it was 
a go. Only one thing seemed to lie in the way — the willing- 
ness of the bondholders to sell out at a figure which our four 


Canadians could pay. Mr. Hill was for going to Holland, and 
interviewing the bondholders, personally. ^ Stephen, more 
astute in big finance, said, bring them over here. Hill could 
not fetch them, Kittson could n*t and Donald A. Smith 
could n't, because there was no dog-sled line to Amsterdam. 
qihe Bank of Montreal did the trick, and a committee of 
Dutchmen arrived to look over their Minnesota holdings 
with a view of selling out. Mr. Hill took them over the line — 
a dreary waste of slashings, then a wide expanse of prairie, 
broken now and again by scrub-oak and hazel-groves; 
deep gulleys here and there — swamps, sloughs, and ponds, 
with assets of brant, wild geese, ducks and sand-hill cranes. 
^ The road was in bad shape — the equipment worse. An 
inventory of the actual property was taken with the help of 
the Dutch Committee. ^The visiting Hollanders made a 
report to the bondholders, advising sale of the bonds at 
an average of about forty per cent of their face value, 
which is what the inventory showed. 
Our Canadian friends secured an option which gave them 
time to turn. Farley, the Receiver, was willing. The road 
was reorganized as the St. Paul, Minneapolis and Manitoba 
Railroad. George Stephen was President, Norman Kittson 
First Vice-President, Donald A. Smith Second Vice-President, 
and James J. Hill General Manager. ^ And on Mr. Hill fell 
the burden of turning a losing property into a prosperous 
and paying one. From the very day that he became manager 
he breathed into the business the breath of life. 
He advertised the railroad lands at a price and on terms 
that were attractive to settlers. There are two ways of making 
railroad rates — one is based on the cost of transportation, 
including overhead and terminal charges; and the other is 
simply based on the idea of moving the tonnage. Hill made 
rates that caught the home-seekers. He figured that if the 



J . 


country could be populated with prosperous people, the 
rest was easy. 

He sent over to England and bought hundreds of young 
Hereford bulls, and distributed them along the line of the 
road among the farmers. " Jim Hill's bulls " are pointed 
out now, over three thousand miles of range, and jokes on 
how Hill bulled the market are always in order. Clydesdale 
horses were sent out on low prices and long-time payments. 
^ Farm-seeds, implements and lumber were put within the 
reach of any man who really wanted to get on ^ And lo ! the 
land prospered Jt> The waste places were made green, and the 
desert blossomed like the rose ^ Illinois, Iowa and Wiscon- 
sin had quit wheat and turned to corn-growing. Minnesota 
was coming into her own — the tide of immigration was 
pushing over the North and West. It was the psychologic 
moment — time and tide had joined hands with James J. 
Hill in order that he might build an empire. 

HE financial blizzard of Eighteen 
Hundred Seventy-three was, with- 
out doubt, an important factor in 
letting down the bars, so that 
James J. Hill could come to the 
front ^ t^ 

The River Valley at that time was 
not shipping a bushel of wheat. 
^ The settlers were just taking 
care of their own wants, and 
were feeding the Lady of the 
Snows up North around Winnipeg. 



We now know that the snows of the Lady of the Snows 
are mostly mythical. She is supplying her own food, and we 
are looking toward her with envious eyes. 
In the year Nineteen Hundred Nine, just passed, the two 
Dakotas and Minnesota produced over two hundred million 
bushels of wheat — worth, say, a dollar a bushel. And when 
wheat is a dollar a bushel the farmers are buying pianolas. 
qXhe " Jim Hill Country" East of the Rockies is producing, 
easily, over five hundred million dollars a year in food 
products that are sent to the East for market. 
The first time I saw Mr. Hill was in Eighteen Hundred 
Eighty. He was surely a d3mamo of nervous energy. His 
full beard was tinged with gray, his hair was worn long, 
and he looked like a successful ranchman, with an Omar 
Khayyam bias. That he has n*t painted pictures, like Sir 
William Van Home, and thus put that worthy to shame, is 
to me a marvel. 

Working under the direction of Mr. Hill, as Railroad Super- 
intendent, at this time was Allan Manvel, who was hands 
and feet and eyes for Hill. Allan was Scotch, of course. He 
could take orders and give them. I remember of Mr. Hill 
once passing him out some Billy Muldoon vocabulary, and 
Allan handing it back with compound interest, but going 
right along and doing the thing just as he was told. Allan 
graduated — " One of us had to go, " said Jim. 
Manvel became President of the Santa Fe, and a kind of 
foster-father to that very able man, Paul Morton, who was 
a Vice-President of the Santa Fe before President Roosevelt 
invited him into his Cabinet. 

Hill has been an educator of men. He even supplied Donald 
A. Smith a few business thrills. ^ " Tomorrow night I intend 
to entertain the Governor," once said Smith to Hill. 
" Tomorrow night you will be on the way to Europe to 



borrow money for me," said Hill. And it was so. fl First and 
foremost, James J. Hill is a farmer. He thinks of himself 
as following a plow, milking cows, salting steers, shoveling 
out ear-corn for the pigs. He can lift his voice and call the 
cattle from a mile away — and does at times. 
He bought a section of Red River railroad land from himself 
and put it in his wife's name. The land was swampy, covered 
with swale, and the settlers had all passed it up as worthless. 
^ Mr. Hill cut the swale, tiled the land, and grew a crop that 
put the farmers to shame. 

He then started a tile-factory in the vicinity, and sold it to 
the managers — two young fellows from the East — as soon 
as they proved that they had the mental phosphorus and 
the commercial jamake. 

The agricultural schools have always interested Mr. Hill. 
^ That which brings a practical return and makes men 
self-supporting and self-reliant is his eternal hobby. Four 
years in college is to him too much — "You can get what 
you want in a year, or not at all, " he says. He has sent 
hundreds of farmers' boys to the agricultural colleges for 
short teims. Imagine what this means to boys who have 
been born on a farm and have never been off it — to get 
the stimulus of travel, lectures, books, and new sights and 
scenes! In this work, often the boys did not know who 
their benefactor was. The money was supplied by some 
man in the near-by town — that was all. These boys, 
inoculated at Mr. Hill's expense with the education 
microbe, have often been a civilizing leaven, in new 
communities in the Dakotas, Montana and Washington. 
§In Eighteen Hundred Eighty-eight the St. Paul, Min- 
neapolis and Manitoba became a part of the Great Northern. 
^ Hill had reached out beyond the wheat country into the 
arid zone, which was found to be not nearly so arid as we 

J A M E 


thought. The Black Angus and the White-faced Herefords 
followed, and where once were only scattering droves of 
skinny pintos, now were to be seen shaggy-legged Shire 
horses, and dappled Percherons. 

The bicycle had come and also the trolley-car, and Calamity 
Jake prophesied that horses would soon be valuable, 
only, for feeding Frenchmen. But Jacob was wrong. Good 
horses steadily increased in value. And today, in spite of 
automobiles and aeroplanes, the prices of horses have 
aviated. Jim HilPs railroads, this last year, hauled over 
three hundred thousand horses out of Montana to the 
Eastern States. 

AILROADING reduced to its lowest 
terms means cost of moving one 
ton of freight one mile — this is 
the unit of measurement. 
Mr. HilPs ambition is to get this 
cost down to the lowest point that 
will allow returns, namely: First, 
payment of wages and for material 
to keep up the road. Second, interest 
on bonded indebtedness. Third, 
dividends (reasonable) on the cap- 
ital stock of the road. 
Railroad men for years strove to get moving cost down to one 
cent per ton per mile — that was their goal. Four years ago 
Mr. Hill got it down to 791-1000 cent, and a year later 
reduced it to 749-1000 cent — less than three-fourths of a cent 
for hauling two thousand pounds one mile. This is his triumph. 



^The development of this prairie country never could have 
been made so quickly without cheap lumber. The forests of 
Michigan were about exhausted by Eighteen Hundred Eighty- 
five ; Wisconsin in the Nineties ; and Minnesota soon followed. 
The demand for lumber in North Dakota could not be supplied 
from the East. The South was out of the question — you can 
not get freight to move easily along parallels of longitude ; 
it always seeks latitude, the same as man in his migrations. 
^ On the completion of the Great Northern Railroad to the 
Pacific tidewater — say in February, Eighteen Hundred 
Ninety-two — Mr. Hill announced a rate of forty cents per 
one hundred pounds on lumber from Washington mills to 
St. Paul - Minneapolis — say two thousand miles or less — 
at a cost of eight dollars a ton. This means two-fifths of one 
cent per ton per mile. It had to be hauled over two mountain- 
ranges, and across semi-arid plains, and miles of alkali-lands 
that furnished no coal for steam, nor water fit for boiler use. 
^ This was a tremendous cut, and it made the Northern 
Pacific squirm. How could he do it? The secret was railroad 
passes in the mountains at lower elevation than any compet- 
itor, easy grades all along the line, thousands, yes hundreds 
of thousands, of dollars spent in changing grades from, say, 
eight-tenths to six-tenths per cent. 

The highest point on the Great Northern Railroad in the 
Rockies is five thousand two hundred six feet — less than 
one mile above sea-level J^ No other transcontinental line 
has an elevation so low Jk Crow's Nest Pass in the Cana- 
dian Rockies is less, but is as yet used only by the Canadian 
Pacific Railroad into Spokane. Mr. Hill has a track through 
the same pass, and also easier grades beyond toward Van- 
couver, British Columbia, and will soon have a freight line 
of least grades between Puget Sound and the Great Lakes. 
^ A one-per-cent grade means a rise of one foot in a track 


one hundred feet long. Two per cent is called a mountain 
grade. All transcontinental lines have grades in mountains 
running two per cent and over, save the Great Northern 
Railway. This is his secret: easy grades, without too much 
cost in added distance. He threw away eighty miles of moun- 
tain line in Montana once just because later surveys proved 
a much easier grade possible in another direction. The 
difference between eight-tenths-per-cent grade and six- 
tenths per cent does not seem much, but a locomotive will 
pull one-half as many more cars on the latter as on the 
former. That is to say, the cost of hauling on a road contain- 
ing eight-tenths-per-cent grades is fifty per cent greater 
than operating on a road of siz-tenths-per-cent grades.When 
other roads go into a receiver's hands, Jim Hill continues to 
make seven-per-cent dividends for his stockholders. 
A steadily falling cost of hauling freight, with greater 
expedition of same, has marked Mr. Hill's progress in the 
railroad world. In the spring of Eighteen Hundred 
Eighty-seven, the St. Paul, Minneapolis and Manitoba 
Railroad started westward from Minot, North Dakota, 
toward Great Falls, Montana, a distance of five hundred 
fifty miles. The Montana Central Railroad, now part of the 
Great Northern Railway System, carried it on one hundred 
miles further to Helena. The steel was all laid in one summer, 
at times as much as five miles a day. Mr. Hill kept close 
supervision of the progress of this work, driving over the 
grade almost monthly from end of track to Great Falls. With 
relays of ranchers' horses one hundred miles per day could 
be inspected, flj. M. Egan, General Superintendent, under 
Allan Manvel, General Manager, had complete charge, assisted 
by C.C. Shields. Five years later, in Eighteen Hundred Ninety- 
two, the then Great Northern Railroad pushed westward 
from Havre to Seattle. Shields had charge of this, and for 



his assistant chose " Fighting Farrell." Farrell afterwards 
became Assistant to President Hill. His headquarters were 
at Seattle. Hill furnished him opportunity for greatness; 
he improved the opportunity, but Harriman eventually 
captured him and he led the enemy into Seattle. 
John F. Stevens was under E. H. Bechler, who had charge, 
and retired on completion of the road, his assistant becom- 
ing Chief Engineer of the Great Northern Railway System. 
^ And so they built a transcontinental line without a dollar 
of Government aid. 

HE St. P., M. & M. Ry., when 
Mr. Hill was General Manager, 
had a capital of fifteen millions. 
Today the capital stock of the 
Great Northern is two hundred 
millions. Northern Pacific about 
two hundred and twenty millions, 
and Burlington stock two hundred 

Up to about his fortieth year, 
James J. Hill was preparing for 
his life-work. His mind was fallow 
waiting for the thirty-year harvest to follow. 
No man can become great save as he selects others to help 
him. Mr. Hill chose his helpers. Donald A. Smith, Norman 
Kittson, George Stephens, John S. Kennedy, R. B. Angus 
were among the first. Later, H. D. Minot, a wealthy Boston- 
ian, and a Harvard graduate, was induced to come West and 
put some of his millions into the line which connected the 


Twin Cities with the head of the Great Lakes at Duluth, 
including all the valuable terminals thereat, with branches 
to the iron-ore fields lying North and Northwest. Minot was 
made President of this branch, which is now a part of the 
Great Northern System. Minot, after whom the town of 
Minot, North Dakota, was named, was a literary man. He 
wrote fairish poetry, and he got up a code for the use of the 
Great Northern Railway officials. 

A clerk by the name of Frank E. Ward worked for him, and 
at a near-by desk sat Charlie Sercombe. Work being slack, 
young Sercombe said to Minot privately one day, " You are 
paying us sixty dollars each month — let Frank go and 
I will do all the work for seventy-five dollars." 
The result was that Sercombe, who had made the suggestion, 
was fired, and young Ward got the seventy-five dollars and 
did the work. Ward was office-boy in the Grand Trunk 
Railway offices at Montreal, first. Upon Minot's death (he 
was killed in a railway wreck in Pennsylvania), Mr. Hill 
took Ward and rapidly advanced him to be Assistant to the 
President. He was then given charge of the Montana 
Central Railway (now in the Great Northern Railway 
System), perhaps the most difficult position of any on the 
road. He was General Superintendent of the Great Northern 
Railroad in Nineteen Hundred Two, and made General 
Manager soon after, taking the place of John F. Stevens. 
He is now General Manager of the Chicago, Burlington and 

Stevens was chosen by the President at Washington as 
being the ablest engineer to push the construction of the 
Panama Canal. 

Stevens was too good a man to brook interference on the 
part of President Roosevelt or envious army engineers, so 
he gave up the Panama job in disgust and is again working 



H I L 

for Mr. Hill. QR. I. Farrington, Comptroller and Second 
Vice-President of the Great Northern Railway, was a clerk 
in the auditor's office of the Northern Pacific Railway at 
seventy dollars a month in Eighteen Hundred Eighty-five, 
and afterward was paymaster for the Rock Island. 
When Charles H. Warren became Comptroller of the Great 
Northern Railway in Eighteen Hundred Eighty-eight, he 
made young Farrington auditor of disbursements at two 
hundred a month. 

Farrington was a perfect wizard at figures. When Warren 
was made General Manager, Farrington took his place as 
Comptroller; later he became Vice-President and Director 
and had J. G. Drew as Assistant Comptroller. 
Edward Sawyer, of Quaker parentage, now seventy years 
and upwards, Treasurer of the Great Northern Railway, 
was appointed first Treasurer of the St. P., M. & M. Ry. He 
is an able man who asks for no bouquets. For over thirty 
years he has worked for Mr. Hill. He is a Director in the 
Great Northern. He was brought West from a New England 
bank and has had charge of more millions in working for 
Mr. Hill than an average banker sees in a lifetime. 



H I L 

HE clothes that a man wears, the 
house that he builds for his family 
and the furnishings that he places 
therein are all an index of his 
character. Mr. Hill's mansion on 
Summit Avenue, St. Paul, was built 
to last a thousand years. The bronze 
girder that supports the grand stair- 
case is strong enough to hold up a 

The house is nearly two hundred 
feet long, but looks proportionate, 
from the Art-Gallery with its fine pictures and pipe-organ 
at one end, to its rich leather-finished dining-room at the 
other. It is of brownstone — the real Fifth Avenue stuff. 
Fond du Lac stone is cheaper and perhaps just as good, but 
it has the objectionable light-colored spots. 
^ Nothing but the best will do for Hill. The tallest flagpole 
that can pass the curves of the mountains between Puget 
Sound and St. Paul graces the yard. The kitchen is lined with 
glazed brick, so that a hose could be turned on the walls ; 
the laundry-room has immense drawers for indoor drying 
of clothes ; no need to open a single window for ventilation, 
as air from above is forced inside over ice-chambers in simi- 
mer and over hot-water pipes in winter. ^ Mr. Hill is a rare 
judge of art, and has the best collection of " Barbizons " in 
America. Any one can get from his private secretary, Mr. J. J. 
Toomey, a card of admission. As early as Eighteen Hundred 
Eighty -one, Mr. Hill had in his modest home on Ninth 
Street, St. Paul, several " Corots. " Mr. Hill is fond of good 
horses, and has a hundred or so of them on his farm of three 
thousand acres, ten miles North of St. Paul. 
Some years ago, while President of the Great Northern 



Railway, he drove night and morning in summer-time to and 
from his farm to his office. He very often walks to his house 
on Summit Avenue or takes a street-car. He is thoroughly 
democratic, and may be seen most any day walking from 
the Great Northern Railway office engaged in conversation 
with one or more, and no matter how deeply engrossed or 
how important the subject in hand, he never fails to greet 
by a nod or a smile an acquaintance. 
He knows everybody, and sees everything. 
Mr. Hill knows more about farming than any man I ever 
met. He raises hogs and cattle, has taken prizes for fat cattle 
at the Chicago show, and knows more than anybody else 
today as to the food supply of the world — yes, and of the 
coal and timber supply, too. He has formed public opinion on 
these matters, and others, by his able contributions to 
various magazines. 

Seattle erected this summer a monument to James J. Hill, 
and St. Paul and Minneapolis will, I know, ere long be only 
too glad to do something in the same line, only greater. 
Just how any man will act under excitement is an unknown 
quantity.When the Omaha Railway General Offices in St. 
Paul took fire, at the first alarm E. W. Winter, then General 
Manager, ran for the stairway, emerging on the street. Then 
he bawled up to his clerk on the second floor excitedly, 
" Charlie, bring down my hat. " But his clerk, young 
Fuller, with more presence of mind, was then at the telephone 
sending in word to the fire-department. Everybody got out 
safely, even to the top floor, but the building was destroyed. 
^ One night about ten o'clock, the St. P., M. & M. Ry. offices 
at St. Paul caught fire. 

The smoke penetrated the room where Mr. Hill with his 
Secretary, Will Stephens, was doing some work after all 
others had departed. They had paid no attention to the alarm 


of fire, but the smell of smoke started them into action. 
§Young Stephens hurriedly carried valued books and papers 
to the vault, while Mr. Hill with the strength of a giant 
grasped a heavy roll-top desk used by A. H. Bode, Comp- 
troller, pushed it to the wall, and threw it bodily out of the 
second-story window. 

The desk was shattered to fragments and the hoodlums 
grabbed on to the contents. No harm was done to the railway 
ofiice, save discoloring the edges of some documents. 
The next morning when Bode, all unconscious of fire or 
accident, came to work, Edward Sawyer, the Treasurer, said 
jokingly, " Bode, you may consider yourself discharged, 
for your desk is in the street. " 

When Conductor McMillan sold his farm in the valley for 
ten thousand dollars, he asked Mr. Hill what he should do 
with the money. " Buy Northern Securities, " was the 
answer. He did so and saw them jump one-third. 
Frank Mofifatt was Mr. HilPs Secretary for some years. Frank 
now has charge of the Peavey Estate. C. D. Bentley, now a 
prominent insurance man of St. Paul, a friend of Frank's, 
used to visit him in Mr. Hill's private oflSce. Mr. Hill caught 
him there once and said, " Young man, if I catch you here 
again I *11 throw you out of the window. " 
Bentley thought he meant it, so kept away in the future. 
He told the story once in my presence, when Mr. Hill was 
also present. Mr. Hill bought red lemonade for the bunch. 
^ A porter on his private car was foolish enough to ask him 
at Chicago once at what hour the train returned. That 
porter had all day to look for another job, and Mr. HilPs 
secretary provided another porter at once. Mr. Hill can not 
overlook incompetency or neglect. 

Colonel Clough engineered Northern Securities; M. D. 
Grover, attorney for the Great Northern Railway, said it 




would not work. Grover was the brightest attorney the road 
ever had. When the scheme failed Grover never once said, 
" I told you so, " and Mr. Hill sent him a check for a thou- 
sand dollars, over and above his salary. 
Colonel Clough was employed at a salary of fifteen thousand 
dollars, some years before his real work began. He came from 
the Northern Pacific. Mr. Hill, when asked by a leading 
official of that road, what he thought of the Colonel, replied, 
" Huh I he *s a good man to file contracts. " 
Mr. Hill said of Allan Manvel, then General Manager of 
his road, " He may make a man some day. " Mr. Hill grew 
faster than any man about him. He distanced them all. S. S. 
Breed was Treasurer of the old St. Paul and Pacific Railroad. 
His signature in a bold, fine hand adorned all the bonds of 
that road, held mostly by the Dutch. He was made auditor 
when the St. P., M. & M. Ry. was formed. 
Breed had reached his point of greatest efficiency, but that 
did not suffice Mr. Hill, who said to him more than once, for 
Breed was an old-timer and well liked, " If you can't do the 
work I '11 have to get some one who can. " Mr. Hill neither 
fired the old man, nor reduced his pay. Breed got work up 
to his death in the Great Northern Railway office, but at 
the last served as a guide for strangers. 
Breed was supplanted by Bode as Comptroller, followed by 
C. H. Warren and then by Farrington — three Big Boys. 




BOUT Eighteen Hundred Eighty- 
nine, Mr. Hill gave an address at 
a banquet in the Merchants' Hotel, 
St. Paul. With a large map of 
the United States and Canada on 
the wall, he took a huge pair of 
dividers or compasses and putting 
one leg of the dividers on the map 
at St. Paul, he swung the other 
leg out Southeast fifteen hundred 
miles as the crow flies, into the 
ocean off the Carolina Coast. 
Then with St. Paul still as a center he swung the compass 
around to the Northwest fifteen hundred miles. " All of this 
country, " he said, " is within the wheat-belt. " The leg of 
the compass went beyond Edmonton in Alberta. Last year 
this new Canadian country produced more than one hundred 
million bushels of wheat, and this is only the beginning. 
Mr. Hill has always maintained that to call cotton king is 
a misnomer. Cotton never was king. Wheat is king, for food 
is more important than raiment. 

Wheat is the natural food of man. The civilization of ancient 
Greece was built upon Nile Valley Wheat. It is the one 
complete, perfect, vegetable food. It contains all of the 
elements necessary to the making of the human body. The 
supply of wheat is the arterial blood that makes this world 
of ours do something. Without wheat we would languish — 
go quickly to seed, as China has. 

St. Paul and Minneapolis lie at the head of navigation on the 
Mississippi River — a little less than two thousand miles by 
water from the Gulf and about the same distance from 
Puget Sound tide-water by rail. 

These cities are in the middle of the wheat-belt. To this point 



came Mr. Hill, a green country youth. ^Transportation 
was his theme, and transportation of wheat has been the 
foundation of his success. 

Wheat is of more importance to us than anything else — than 
gold or cotton or coal or timber or iron. 
Mr. Hill carries over his railroads all of these. The Great 
Northern Railway, the Northern Pacific, and the Chicago, 
Burlington and Quincy — over twenty thousand miles of 
track — are in the hollow of his hand. 
He directs, controls, even to minute details, this great 
transportation system. 

His seventieth birthday was celebrated a year ago last 
September. Still he fails not. He has given up the Presidency 
of the Great Northern Railway, retaining, however, the title, 
" Chairman of the Board." But we all know that his hand 
is felt just the same in every part of the working of these 
miles of track. 

It has been said of him that he knew every spike on the 
Great Northern Railway. General Managers are changed 
or removed as simply as an office-boy is asked to skidoo. 
MacGuiggan MacGuire was brought from the East to be 
General Manager and Vice-President at a fabulous salary. 
^ He had charge of operation of the Great Northern. A few 
short months showed his unfitness, and the boys were told 
that he had gone to Europe for a change. They never saw 
him after. 

Charles H. Warren was a bright assistant as stenographer 
and clerk to General Manager Manvel. Mr. Hill made him 
General Passenger Agent, afterward Comptroller, then 
General Manager. But Warren, after marrying a stockholder's 
daughter, got chesty and aspired to be President of the 
Great Northern Railway. He would n't resign and so was 
fired. He found his office-desk one morning in the hall. Then 


H I L 

he took a little holiday before taking a responsible position 
on the Central Railroad of New Jersey, and marching on to 
fame and fortune. QA. L. Mohler, a big man on the Union 
Pacific, was Assistant Freight Agent on the St. P., M. & M. 
Ry., afterwards General Freight Agent, then Land Com- 
missioner, then General Manager. His day of greatest use- 
fulness for Mr. Hill was passed, and he gravitated to the 
0. R. R. & N. of Oregon, thence to the Oregon Short Line and 
afterwards to the high position he now occupies on the 
Harriman System. Migration is a fine thing, and many a 
good man has to move on before he finds his place. ^ The 
Great Northern Railway is a training-school for railroad men. 
And when it is time for a man to go, on he goes. 

R. HILL has three sons, all able 
and growing men. But whether 
they possess divine caloric or not, 
it is too early to say. But certainly 
it is true that they are bigger 
men now than he was at their 
age. Louis W. is President of the 
Great Northern System. James N. 
is Vice-President of the Northern 
Pacific. Walter, the youngest boy, 
looks after vast iron-ore properties 
in the Lake Superior country. 
There are also two daughters, happily married, with growing 
broods of chubby youngsters who often gather at the big 
home on Summit Avenue and make their Gran'pa play he 
is an elephant for their benefit. 


The Roycroft Motto-Book 

This is a catalog and a list of about 
Three Hundred Mottoes or Epi- 
grams by Fra Elbertus 3^ In this 
book we giwe the Motto and the 
price, size of paper, etc., upon 
which the Motto is printed 3^ 
These Mottoes are mostly printed 
on . Italian Hand-made paper, or 
Japan Vellum, size 1 2x1 6 inches, 
hand-illumined, suitable for fra- 
ming. "We also have some in the 
original designs. 

They form rare and unique deco- 
rations for office, library, hall or 
guest-rooms 3< Our Motto-Book 
tells all about them. 
This Book of Three Hundred 
Mottoes, Printed in Four Colors, 
will be mailed to you on receipt 

The Roy crofters. East Aurora, N. Y. 


The person who "has everything" is the tilkychoo of kindly 
intentioned folks, at Christmas-Time. Yet there is a way out. You 
never fail to invite a finer understanding by contributing a Levant 
Classic to your Friend's Library. No one person ever had too 
many Roycroft Books. ^The following Books are Bound in Full 
Levant with Hand-tooled, Original Designs and Inlaid Gold on 
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Vellum and some few of them are beautifully Illumined by Hand. 

Holly-Tree Inn ------- Dickens 

Dog of Flanders ------- Ouida 

Song of Myself ------ Whitman 

A Lodging for the Night - - - - Stevenson 

Respectability ------ Hubbard 

Poems - - - - - - - - - Poe 

Man of Sorrows ------ Hubbard 

FRIENDSHIP, Henry D. Thoreau - - - $250.00 

CONTEMPLATIONS, ElbeH Hubbard - - 200.00 

ESSAYS OF ELIA, Charles Lamb - - - 100.00 

VIRGINIBUS PUERISQUE, Stevenson - - 50.00 


Respectability Thomas Jefferson Broncho Book 

Garcia and Thirteen Self-Reliance Crimes Against 

Old John Burroughs Dog of Flanders Criminals 

Rip Van Winkle Law of Love Christmas Carol 

Thoreau's Friendship Justinian & Theodora tt n t" 

Love. Life and Work Battle of Waterloo ^olly- 1 ree Inn 

William Morris Rubaiyat A Lodging for the 

Man of Sorrows White Hyacinths Night 

Heine's Songs Consecrated Lives Woman's Work 

Nature Reading Gaol Song of Myself 

To know Hubbard's Writings 


To know Roycroft Bindings 

you had best experiment with a Bound Volume of "Little 
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Volume I. To the Homes of Good Men and Great 

Volume II. To the Homes of American Authors 

Volume III. To the Homes of Famous Women 

Volume IV. To the Homes of American Statesmen 

Volume V. To the Homes of Eminent Painters 

Volume VI. To the Homes of English Authors 

Volume VII. To the Homes of English Authors 

Volume VIII. To the Homes of Great Musicians 

Volume IX. To the Homes of Great Musicians 

Volume X. To the Homes of Eminent Artists 

Volume XI. To the Homes of Eminent Artists 

Volume XII. To the Homes of Eminent Orators 

Volume XIII. To the Homes of Eminent Orators 

Volume XIV. To the Homes of Great Philosophers 

Volume XV. To the Homes of Great Philosophers 

Volume XVI. To the Homes of Great Scientists 

Volume XVn. To the Homes of Great Scientists 

Volume XVIII. To the Homes of Great Lovers 

Volume XIX. To the Homes of Great Lovers 

Volume XX. To the Homes of Great Reformers 

Volume XXI. To the Homes of Great Reformers 

Volume XXII. To the Homes of Great Teachers 

Volume XXni. To the Homes of Great Teachers 

Volume XXIV. To the Homes of Great Business Men 

Volume XXV. To the Homes of Great Business Men 



NOTHING.— Fra Elberha 

AND without 
population is 
a wilderness, 

and population with- 
out land is a mob«