The Project Gutenberg eBook of John Jacob Astor, by Elbert Hubbard

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LITTLE JOURNEYS TO THE HOMES OF GREAT BUSINESS MEN

BY

ELBERT HUBBARD

JOHN J. ASTOR

The word games for 13 year oldsman who makes it the habit of his life to go to bed at nineo'clock, usually gets rich and is always reliable. Of course, going tobed does not make him rich—I merely mean that such a man will in allprobability be up early in the morning and do a big day's work, so hisweary 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 inAmerica make any man rich. Wealth is a result of habit.

—JOHN JACOB ASTOR

LITTLE JOURNEYS

Victor Hugo says, "When you open a school, you close a prison."

This seems to require a little explanation. Victor Hugo did not havein mind a theological school, nor yet a young ladies' seminary, nor anEnglish boarding-school, nor a military academy, and least of all aparochial institute. What he was thinking of was a school wherepeople—young and old—were taught to be self-respecting, self-reliantand efficient—to care for themselves, to help bear the burdens of theworld, to assist themselves by adding to the happiness of others.

Victor Hugo fully realized that the only education that serves is theone that increases human efficiency, not the one that retards it. Aneducation for honors, ease, medals, degrees, titles,position—immunity—may tend to exalt the individual ego, but itweakens the race and its gain on the whole is nil.

Men are rich only as they give. He who gives great service, gets greatreturns. Action and reaction are equal, and the radiatory power of theplanets balances their attraction. The love you keep is the love yougive away.

A bumptious colored person wearing a derby tipped over one eye, and acigar in his mouth pointing to the northwest, walked into a hardwarestore and remarked, "Lemme see your razors."

The clerk smiled pleasantly and asked, "Do you want a razor to shavewith?"

"Naw," said the colored person, "—for social purposes."

An education for social purposes is n't of any more use than a razorpurchased for a like use. An education which merely fits a person toprey on society, and occasionally slash it up, is a predatorypreparation for a life of uselessness, and closes no prison. Rather itopens a prison and takes captive at least one man. The only educationthat makes free is the one that tends to human efficiency. Teachchildren to work, play, laugh, fletcherize, study, think, and yetagain—work, and we will raze every prison.

There is only one prison, and its name is Inefficiency. Amid thebastions 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 theirefficiency," says Lecky the historian.

He then adds that he himself is a Celt.

The two statements taken together reveal Lecky to be a man withoutprejudice. When the Irish tell the truth about the Dutch themillennium approaches.

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

The Germans are great simply because they have the homely andindispensable virtues of prudence, patience and industry.

There is no copyright on these qualities. God can do many things, butso far, He has never been able to make a strong race of people andleave these ingredients out of the formula.

As a nation, Holland first developed them so that they became thecharacteristic of the whole people.

It was the slow, steady stream of Hollanders pushing southward thatcivilized Germany.

Music as a science was born in Holland. The grandfather of Beethovenwas a Dutchman.

Gutenberg's forebears were from Holland.

And when the Hollanders had gone clear through Germany, and thentraversed Italy, and came back home by way of Venice, they struck therock of spiritual resources and the waters gushed forth.

Since Rembrandt carried portraiture to the point of perfection, twohundred and fifty years ago, Holland has been a land of artists—and itis so even unto this day.

John Jacob Astor was born of a Dutch family that had migrated down toHeidelberg from Antwerp. Through some strange freak of atavism thefather of the boy bred back, and was more or less of a stone-agecave-dweller. He was a butcher by trade, in the little town ofWaldorf, a few miles from Heidelberg. A butcher's business then was totravel around and kill the pet pig, or sheep, or cow that thetender-hearted owners dare not harm. The butcher was a pariah, a sortof unofficial, industrial hangman.

At the same time he was more or less of a genius, for he climbedsteeples, dug wells, and did all kinds of disagreeable jobs that neededto be done, and from which sober and cautious men shrank like unwashedwool.

One such man—a German, too—lives in East Aurora. I joined him,accidentally, in walking along a country road the other day. Hecarried a big basket on his arm, and was peacefully smoking a big Dutchpipe. We talked of music and he was regretting the decline of a tastefor 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 derhill, already, to blow me oud some stumps oud." And I suddenlybethought me of an engagement I had at the village.

John Jacob Astor was the youngest of four sons, and as many daughters.The brothers ran away early in life, and went to sea or joined thearmy. One of these boys came to America, and followed his father'strade of butcher.

Jacob Astor, the happy father of John Jacob, used to take the boy withhim on his pig-killing expeditions. This for two reasons—one, so thelad would learn a trade, and the other to make sure that the boy didnot run away.

Parents who hold their children by force have a very slender claim uponthem. 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 inhis garden and run errands.

The intelligence and alertness of the lad made him look like goodtimber for a minister.

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 andbody—his estate was to come later. When he was seventeen, his fathercame and made a formal demand for his services. The young man musttake up his father's work of butchering.

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

To have youth, high hope, right intent, health and a big redhandkerchief 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 alaborer. The next day he was promoted to checker-off. The captain ofa ship asked him to go to London and figure up the manifests on theway. He went.

The captain of the ship recommended him to the company in London, andthe boy was soon piling up wealth at the rate of a guinea a month.

In September, Seventeen Hundred and Eighty-three, came the news toLondon that George Washington had surrendered. In any event, peace hadbeen declared—Cornwallis had forced the issue, so the Americans hadstopped fighting.

A little later it was given out that England had given up her American
Colonies, and they were free.

Intuitively John Jacob Astor felt that the "New World" was the placefor him. He bought passage on a sailing ship bound for Baltimore, at acost of five pounds. He then fastened five pounds in a belt around hiswaist, and with the rest of his money—after sending two pounds home tohis father, with a letter of love—bought a dozen German flutes.

He had learned to play on this instrument with proficiency, and inAmerica he thought there would be an opening for musicians and musicalinstruments.

John Jacob was then nearly twenty years of age.

The ship sailed in November, but did not reach Baltimore until themiddle of March, having to put back to sea on account of storms whenwithin sight of the Chesapeake. Then a month was spent later huntingfor the Chesapeake. There was plenty of time for flute-playing andmaking of plans.

On board ship he met a German, twenty years older than himself, who wasa fur trader and had been home on a visit.

John Jacob played the flute and the German friend told stories of furtrading among the Indians.

Young Astor's curiosity was excited. The Waldorf-Astoria plan offlute-playing was forgotten. He fed on fur trading.

The habits of the animals, the value of their pelts, the curing of thefurs, their final market, was all gone over again and again. The twoextra months at sea gave him an insight into a great business and hehad the time to fletcherize his ideas. He thought about it—wroteabout it in his diary, for he was at the journal-age. Wolves, bearsbadgers, minks, and muskrats, filled his dreams.

Arriving in Baltimore he was disappointed to learn that there were nofur traders there. He started for New York.

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

Young Astor set himself to learn the business—every part of it. Hewas always sitting on the curb at the door before the owner got aroundin the morning, carrying a big key to open the warehouse. He was thelast 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 youget him to lay aside his weapons, be he friend or enemy.

Any dullard can be waited on and served, but to serve requiresjudgment, skill, tact, patience and industry.

The qualities that make a youth a good servant are the basic ones formastership. Astor's alertness, willingness, loyalty, and ability toobey, delivered his employer over into his hands.

Robert Bowne, the good old Quaker, insisted that Jacob should call himRobert; and from boarding the young man with a near-by war widow whotook cheap boarders, Bowne took young Astor to his own house, andraised 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 himselfbecause he did not know of any one he could trust to carry the messageto Garcia. Those who knew furs and had judgment were not honest, andthose who were honest did not know furs. Honest fools are really nobetter than rogues, as far as practical purposes are concerned. Bowneonce found a man who was honest and also knew furs, but alas! he had apassion for drink, and no prophet could foretell his "periodic," untilafter it occurred.

Young Astor had been with Bowne only a year. He spoke imperfectEnglish, but he did not drink nor gamble, and he knew furs and washonest.

Bowne started him off for Canada with a belt full of gold; his onlyweapon was a German flute that he carried in his hand. Bowne being aQuaker 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 hadtheir quills out on his approach. But young Astor was seeminglyindifferent. 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 aremen who always have credit.

Young Astor found Indian nature to be simply human nature.

The savage was a man, and courtesy, gentleness and fairly goodflute-playing soothed his savage breast. Astor had beads and blankets,a flute and a smile. The Indians carried his goods by relays and thenpassed him on with guttural certificates as to character, to other redmen, and at last he reached New York without the loss of a pelt or thedampening of his ardor.

Bowne was delighted. To young Astor it was nothing. He had in hisblood the success corpuscle. He might have remained with Bowne andbecome a partner in the business, but Bowne had business limitationsand Astor had n't.

So after a three years' apprenticeship, Astor knew all that Bowne didand all he himself could imagine besides. So he resigned.

In Seventeen Hundred and Eighty-six, John Jacob Astor began business onhis own account in a little store on Water Street, New York. There wasone room and a basement. He had saved a few hundred dollars; hisbrother, the butcher, had loaned him a few hundred more, and RobertBowne had contributed a bale of skins to be paid for "at thy own priceand 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 bitboastful 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 beaverpelts, with a bearskin thrown in for good measure. It was a musicalachievement as well as a commercial one.

Having collected several thousand dollars' worth of furs he shippedthem to London and embarked as a passenger in the steerage. The tripshowed him that ability to sell was quite as necessary as the abilityto buy—a point which with all of his shrewdness Bowne had neverguessed.

In London furs were becoming a fad. Astor sorted and sifted hisbuyers, as he had his skins. He himself dressed in a suit of fur andthus proved his ability as an advertiser. He picked his men andcharged all the traffic would bear. He took orders, on sample, fromthe nobility and sundry of the gentry, and thereby cut the middleman.All of the money he received for his skins, he invested in "IndianGoods"—colored cloth, beads, blankets, knives, axes, and musicalinstruments.

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 thewilderness to buy furs of the Indians, or better still, to interestthem 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 LakeOntario, across to Lake Champlain and then down the Hudson. He foresawthe great city of Buffalo, and Rochester as well, only he said thatRochester would probably be situated directly on the Lake. But thewater-power of the Genesee Falls proved a stronger drawing power thanthe Lake Front. He prophesied that along the banks of the NiagaraFalls would be built the greatest manufacturing city in the world.There were flour-mills and sawmills there then. The lumber first usedin building the city of Buffalo was brought from the sawmills at "TheFalls."

Electric power, of course, was then a thing unguessed, but Astorprophesied the Erie Canal, and made good guesses as to where prosperouscities would appear along its line.

In Seventeen Hundred and Ninety, John Jacob Astor married Sarah Todd.Her mother was a Brevoort, and it was brought about by her coming toAstor to buy furs with which to make herself a coat. Her ability tojudge furs and make them up won the heart of the dealer. The marriagebrought young Astor into "the best Dutch New York society," acombination that was quite as exclusive then as now.

This marriage was a business partnership as well as marital and proveda success in every way. Sarah was a worker, with all the good oldDutch qualities of patience, persistence, industry and economy. Whenher husband went on trips she kept store. She was the only partner inwhich he ever had implicit faith. And faith is the first requisite insuccess.

Captain Cook had skirted the Pacific Coast from Cape Horn to Alaska,and had brought to the attention of the fur-dealing and fur-wearingworld the sea-otter of the Northern Pacific.

He also gave a psychological prophetic glimpse of the insidioussealskin sacque.

In Seventeen Hundred and Ninety, a ship from the Pacific brought ahundred otterskins to New York. The skins were quickly sold to Londonbuyers at exorbitant prices.

The nobility wanted sea-otter, or "Royal American Ermine," as theycalled it. The scarcity boomed the price. Ships were quickly fittedout 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 inthem, as he considered them "extra hazardous." He was not a speculator.

Until the year Eighteen Hundred, Astor lived over his store in WaterStreet, but he then moved to the plain and modest house at Two Hundredand Twenty-three Broadway, on the site of the old Astor House. Here helived for twenty-five years.

The fur business was simple and very profitable. Astor now wasconfining himself mostly to beaver-skins. He fixed the price at onedollar, to be paid to the Indians or trappers. It cost fifty cents toprepare and transport the skin to London. There it was sold at fromfive to ten dollars. All of the money received for skins was theninvested in English merchandise, which was sold in New York at aprofit. In Eighteen Hundred, Astor owned three ships which he hadbought so as to absolutely control his trade. Ascertaining that Londondealers were reshipping furs to China, early in the century hedispatched one of his ships directly to the Orient, loaded with furs,with explicit written instructions to the captain as to what the cargoshould 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. Wecan imagine the interest of Mr. and Mrs. Astor as they locked theirstore and ran to the Battery. Sure enough, it was their ship, ridinggently on the tide, snug, strong and safe as when she had left.

The profit on this one voyage was seventy thousand dollars. ByEighteen Hundred and Ten, John Jacob Astor was worth two milliondollars. He began to invest all his surplus money in New York realestate. He bought acreage property in the vicinity of Canal Street.Next he bought Richmond Hill, the estate of Aaron Burr. It consistedof one hundred and sixty acres just above Twenty-third Street. He paidfor 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 atthe rate of five thousand dollars an acre. Fortunately for his estatehe did not sell much of the land at this price, for it is thisparticular dirt that makes up that vast property known as "The AstorEstate."

During the Revolutionary War, Roger Morris, of Putnam County, New York,made the mistake of siding with the Tories.

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 theinsurrection.

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 havingbeen proposed to by George Washington. It is George himself, tells ofthis in his Journal, and George you remember could not tell a lie.

George was twenty-five, he was on his way to Boston, and wasentertained at the Philipse house, the Plaza not having then been built.

Mary was twenty, pink and lissome. She played the harpsichord.Immediately after supper George, finding himself alone in the parlorwith the girl, proposed.

He was an opportunist.

The lady pleaded for time, which the Father of his Country declined togive. He was a soldier and demanded immediate surrender. A smallquarrel followed, and George saddled his horse and rode on his way tofame and fortune.

Mary thought he would come back, but George never proposed to the samelady twice. Yet he thought kindly of Mary and excused her conduct byrecording, "I think ye ladye was not in ye moode."

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

It was Washington who formally confiscated the property, and turned itover to the State of New York as contraband of war.

The Morris estate of about fifty thousand acres was parceled out andsold by the State of New York to settlers.

It seems, however, that Roger Morris had only a life interest in theestate and this was a legal point so fine that it was entirelyoverlooked in the joy of confiscation. Washington was a great soldier,but an indifferent lawyer.

John Jacob Astor accidentally ascertained the facts. He was convincedthat the heirs could not be robbed of their rights through the acts ofa leaseholder, which, legally was the status of Roger Morris. Astorwas a good real estate lawyer himself, but he referred the point to thebest counsel he could find. They agreed with him. He next hunted upthe heirs and bought their quitclaims for one hundred thousand dollars.

He then notified the parties who had purchased the land, and they inturn made claim upon the State for protection.

After much legal parleying the case was tried according to stipulationwith the State of New York, directly, as defendant and Astor and theoccupants as plaintiffs. Daniel Webster and Martin Van Buren appearedfor the State, and an array of lesser legal lights for Astor.

The case was narrowed down to the plain and simple point that RogerMorris was not the legal owner of the estate, and that the rightfulheirs could not be made to suffer for the "treason, contumacy andcontravention" of another. Astor won, and as a compromise the Stateissued him twenty-year bonds bearing six per cent interest, for theneat sum of five hundred thousand dollars—not that Astor needed themoney but finance was to him a game, and he had won.

In front of the first A. T. Stewart store there used to be an old womanwho sold apples. Regardless of weather, there she sat and mumbled herwares at the passer-by. She was a combination beggar and merchant,with a blundering wit, a ready tongue and a vocabulary unfit forpublication.

Her commercial genius is shown in the fact that she secured one goodpaying customer—Alexander T. Stewart. Stewart grew to believe in heras his spirit of good luck. Once when bargains had been offered at theStewart store and the old woman was not at her place on the curb, themerchant-prince sent his carriage for her in hot haste "lest offense begiven." And the day was saved.

When the original store was abandoned for the Stewart "Palace" the oldapple woman with her box, basket and umbrella were tenderly takenalong, too.

John Jacob Astor had no such belief in luck omens, portents, or mascotsas had A. T. Stewart. With him success was a sequence—a result—itwas all cause and effect. A. T. Stewart did not trust entirely toluck, for he too, carefully devised and planned. But the differencebetween the Celtic and Teutonic mind is shown in that Stewart hoped tosucceed, while Astor knew that he would. One was a bit anxious; theother 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 lengthabout the Northwest. Legend says that he gave the hardy discoverer athousand dollars, which was a big amount for him to give away.

Once a committee called on him with a subscription list for some worthycharity. Astor subscribed fifty dollars. One of the disappointedcommittee remarked, "Oh, Mr. Astor, your son William gave us a hundreddollars."

"Yes," said the old man, "But you must remember that William has a richfather."

Washington Irving has told the story of Astoria at length. It was theone financial plunge taken by John Jacob Astor.

And in spite of the fact that it failed, the whole affair does creditto the prophetic brain of Astor.

"This country will see a chain of growing and prosperous citiesstraight from New York to Astoria, Oregon," said this man in reply to adoubting questioner.

He laid his plans before Congress, urging a line of army posts, fortymiles apart, from the western extremity of Lake Superior to thePacific. "These forts or army posts will evolve into cities," saidAstor, when he called on Thomas Jefferson, who was then President ofthe United States. Jefferson was interested, but non-committal. Astorexhibited maps of the Great Lakes, and the country beyond. He arguedwith a prescience then not possessed by any living man that at thewestern extremity of Lake Superior would grow up a great city. Yet inEighteen Hundred and Seventy-six, Duluth was ridiculed by the caustictongue of Proctor Knott, who asked, "What will become of Duluth whenthe lumber crop is cut?" Astor proceeded to say that another great citywould grow up at the southern extremity of Lake Michigan. GeneralDearborn. Secretary of War under Jefferson had just established FortDearborn on the present site of Chicago. Astor commended this, andsaid: "From a fort you get a trading post, and from a trading post youwill 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 iswater-power, there will grow up mills for grinding grain and sawmills,as well. This place of power will have to be protected, and so youwill 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 andMinneapolis were dreams undreamed.

Jefferson took time to think about it and then wrote Astor thus, "Yourbeginning of a city on the Western Coast is a great acquisition, and Ilook forward to a time when our population will spread itself up anddown along the whole Pacific frontage, unconnected with us, exceptingby ties of blood and common interest, and enjoying like us, the rightsof self-government."

The Pilgrim Fathers thought land that lay inward from the sea asvalueless. The forest was an impassible barrier. Later, up to thetime of George Washington, the Alleghanies were regarded as a naturalbarrier. Patrick Henry likened the Alleghany Mountains to the Alpsthat separated Italy from Germany and said, "The mountain ranges arelines that God has set to separate one people from another."

Later, statesmen have spoken of the ocean in the same way, as proofthat a union of all countries under an international capital couldnever exist.

Great as was Jefferson, he regarded the achievement of Lewis and Clarkeas a feat and not an example. He looked upon the Rocky Mountains as anatural separation of peoples "bound by ties of blood and mutualinterest" but otherwise unconnected. To pierce these mighty mountainswith tunnels, and whisper across them with the human voice, weremiracles unguessed. But Astor closed his eyes and saw pack-trains,mules laden with skins, winding across these mountains, and down totide-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.

A 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 perilousundertaking, with accidents by flood and field and in the imminentdeadly breech.

But the route by the water was feasible.

The town was founded and soon became a centre of commercial activity.Had Astor been on the ground to take personal charge, a city likeSeattle would have bloomed and blossomed on the Pacific, fifty yearsago. But power at Astoria was subdivided among several little men, whowore themselves out in a struggle for honors, and to see who would begreatest in the kingdom of heaven. John Jacob Astor was too far awayto send a current of electricity through the vacuum of their minds,light up the recesses with reason, and shock them into sanity. Likethose first settlers at Jamestown, the pioneers at Astoria saw onlyfailure ahead, and that which we fear, we bring to pass. To settle acontinent with men is almost as difficult as Nature's attempt to form asoil on a rocky surface.

There came a grand grab at Astoria and it was each for himself and thedevil take the hindermost—it was a stampede.

System and order went by the board. The strongest stole the most, asusual, but all got a little. And England's gain in citizens was ourloss.

Astor lost a million dollars by the venture. He smiled calmly andsaid, "The plan was right, but my men were weak, that is all. Thegateway 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, wascleared of its plain two story houses, preparatory to building theAstor 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 thecue to hotel men all over the world. The hotel that runs full is agold mine. Hungry men feed, and the beautiful part about the hotelbusiness is that the customers are hungry the next day—also thirsty.Astor was worth ten million, but he took a personal delight in sittingin the lobby of the Astor House and watching the dollars roll into thispalace that his brain had planned. To have an idea—to watch itgrow—to then work it out, and see it made manifest in concretesubstance, this was his joy. The Astor House was a bigger hostelry inits day than the Waldorf-Astoria is now.

Astor was tall, thin, and commanding in appearance. He had only onehallucination, and that was that he spoke the English language. Theaccent he possessed at thirty was with him in all its pristineeffulgence at eighty-five. "Nopody vould know I vas a Cherman—aind'tit?" he used to say. He spoke French, a dash of Spanish and couldparley in Choctaw, Ottawa, Mohawk and Huron. But they who speakseveral languages must not be expected to speak any one language well.

Yet when John Jacob wrote it was English without a flaw. In all of hisdealings he was uniquely honorable and upright. He paid and he madeothers pay. His word was his bond. He was not charitable in the senseof indiscriminate giving. "To give something for nothing is to weakenthe giver," was one of his favorite sayings. That this attitudeprotected a miserly spirit, it is easy to say, but it is not whollytrue. In his later years he carried with him a book containing arecord of his possessions. This was his breviary. In it he took avery 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 twentyyears before. To realize that his prophetic vision had been correctwas to him a great source of satisfaction.

His habits were of the best. He went to bed at nine o'clock, and wasup before six. At seven he was at his office. He knew enough to eatsparingly 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 begin to wither at theheart. The care of a fortune is a penalty. I advise the gentle readerto think twice before accumulating ten millions.

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

Astor died, aged eighty-six. It was a natural death, a thing that veryseldom occurs. The machinery all ran down at once.

Realizing his lack of book advantages, he left by his will four hundredthousand dollars to found the Astor Library, in order that others mightprofit where he had lacked.

He also left fifty thousand dollars to his native town of Waldorf, apart of which money was used to found an Astor Library there God issurely good, for if millionaires were immortal, their money would causethem great misery and the swollen fortunes would crowd mankind, notonly 'gainst the wall, but into the sea. Death is the deliverer, forTime checks power and equalizes all things, and gives the newgeneration a chance.

Astor hated gamblers. He never confused gambling, as a mode of moneygetting, with actual production. He knew that gambling producesnothing—it merely transfers wealth, changes ownership. And since itinvolves loss of time and energy it is a positive waste.

Yet to buy land and hold it, thus betting on its rise in value, is notproduction, either. Nevertheless, this was to Astor, legitimate andright.

Henry George threw no shadow before, and no economist had ever writtenthat to secure land and hold it unused, awaiting a rise in value, was adog-in-the-manger, unethical and selfish policy. Morality is a matterof longitude and time.

Astor was a member of the Dutch Reformed Church, and yet he lived outhis days with a beautiful and perfect disbelief in revealed religion.

He knew enough of biology to know that religions are not"revealed"—they are evolved. Yet he recognized the value of theChurch as a social factor. To him it was a good police system, and sowhen rightly importuned he gave, with becoming moderation, to allfaiths and creeds.

A couple of generations back in his ancestry there was a renegade Jewwho loved a Christian girl, and thereby moulted his religion. WhenCupid crosses swords with a priest, religion gets a death stroke. Thisstream of free blood was the inheritance of John Jacob Astor.

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

John Jacob Astor, besides having the first store for the sale ofmusical instruments in America, organized the first orchestra of overtwelve players. He brought over a leader from Germany, and did much tofoster 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 byunkind fate. John Jacob Astor once told Washington Irving that it wasonly business responsibility that prevented his being a novelist; andat other times he declared his intent to take up music as a professionas soon as he had gotten all of his securities properly tied up. Andwhether he worked out his dreams or not, there is no doubt but thatthey added to his peace, happiness and length of days. Happy is theman who escapes the critics by leaving his literary masterpiece in theink.

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