m THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK An Autohiojmpky St j£ As CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY GIFT OF J.f. Kinney,, , •;,^,, CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 3 1924 100 553 969 Date Due The original of tliis bool< is in tlie Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924100553969 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK From a /■h,-lnip;i/-h H- Chandler, Phiiadelphi ^.^^....^— TlT TlrrJ^C^.^ THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DUTCH BOY FIFTY YEARS AFTER WITH ILLUSTRATIONS NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1924 CoFnUGHT, 1920, 1S22, BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS Printed in the United States of America First Edition, September, 1920 Second Edition, November, 1920 Third Edition, December, 1920 Fourth Edition, December, 1920 Fifth Edition, March, 1921 Sixth Edition, March, 1921 Seventh Edition, June, 1921 Eighth Edition, August, 1921 Ninth Edition, August, 1921 Tenth Edition, September, 1921 Eleventh Edition, October, 1921 Twelfth Edition, November, 1921 Thirteenth Edition, December, 1921 Fourteenth Edition, December, 1921 Fifteenth Edition, December, 1921 Sixteenth Edition, January, 1922 Seventeenth Edition, March, 1922 Eghteenth Edition, April, 1922 Nineteenth Edition, July, 1922 Twentieth Edition, October, 1922 Twenty-first Edition, October, 1922 Twenty-second Edition, October, 1922 Twenty-third Edition, March, 1923 Twenty-fourth Edition, (Library Edition) Twenty-ath Edition, (Popular Edition] Twenty-sixth Edition, (Popular Edition) Twenty-seventh Edition, August, 1923 August, 1923 August, 1923 Sept., 1923 Nov., 1923 (Popular Edition) Twenty-eighth Edition, (Popular Edition) Twenty-ninth Edition, January, 1924 (Popular Edition) Thirtieth Edition, February, 1924 (I.ibraxy Edition) Thirty-first Edition, February, 1924 (Popular Edition) Tliirty-second Edition, February, 1924 (Popular Edition) Thirty-third Edition, March, 1924 (Popular Edition) Thirty-fourth Edition, March, 1924 (Popular Edition) x TO THE AMERICAN WOMAN I OWE MUCH BUT TO TWO WOMEN I OWE MORE MY MOTHER AND MY WIFE AND TO THEM I DEDICATE THIS ACCOUNT OF THE BOY TO WHOM ONE GAVE BIRTH AND BROUGHT TO MANHOOD AND THE OTHER BLESSED WITH ALL THAT A HOME AND FAMILY MAY MEAN AN EXPLANATION This book was to have been written in 1914, when I foresaw some leisure to write it, for I then intended to retire from active editorship. But the war came, an entirely new set of duties commanded, and the project was laid aside. Its title and the form, however, were then chosen. By the form I refer particularly to the use of the third person. I had always felt the most effective method of writing an autobiography, for the sake of a better per- spective, was mentally to separate the writer from his subject by this device. Moreover, this method came to me very naturally in dealing with the Edward Bok, editor and publicist whom I have tried to describe in this book, because, in many respects, he has had and has been a personality apart from my private seK. I have again and again f oimd myself watching with intense amusement and interest the Edward Bok of this book at work. I have, in turn, applauded him and criticised him, as I do in this book. Not that I ever considered myself bigger or broader than this Edward Bok: simply that he was different. His tastes, his outlook, his manner of looking at things were totally at variance with my own. In fact, my chief dif- ficulty during Edward Bok's directorship of The Ladies' Home Journal was to abstain from breaking through the editor and revealing my real self. Several times I did viu AN EXPLANATION so, and each time I saw how different was the effect from that when the editorial Edward Bok had been allowed sway. Little by Uttle I learned to subordinate myself and to let him have full rein. But no relief of my life was so great to me personally as his decision to retire from his editorship. My family and friends were surprised and amused by my intense and obvious reUef when he did so. Only to those closest to me could I explain the reason for the sense of absolute freedom and gratitude that I felt. Since that time my feelings have been an interesting study to myself. There are no longer two personalities. The Edward Bok of whom I have written has passed out of my being as completely as if he had never been there, save for the records and files on my library shelves. It is easy, therefore, for me to write of him as a personality apart: in fact, I could not depict him from any other point of view. To write of him in the first person, as if he were myself, is impossible, for he is not. The title suggests my principal reason for writing the book. Every life has some interest and significance; mine, perhaps, a special one. Here was a little Dutch boy unceremoniously set down in America unable to make himself understood or even to know what persons were sasdng; his education was extremely hmited, prac- tically negligible; and yet, by some curious decree of fate, he was destined to write, for a period of years, to the largest body of readers ever addressed by an Amer- ican editor — the circulation of the magazine he edited running into figiures previously unheard of in periodical literature. He made no pretense to style or even to com- AN EXPLANATION ix position: his grammar was faiolty, as it was natural it should be, in a language not his own. His roots never went deep, for the intellectual soil had not been favorable to their growth; — ^yet, it must be confessed, he achieved. But how all this came about, how such a boy, with every disadvantage to overcome, was able, apparently, to "make good" — this possesses an interest and for some, perhaps, a value which, after all, is the only reason for any book. Edward W. Bok Merion Pennsylvania 1920 CONTENTS PAGE An Explanation vii An Introduction of Two Persons xvii ) CHAPTER I. The First Days in America i II. The First Job: Fifty Cents a Week ... 8 III. The Hunger for Self-Ebucation 17 IV. A Presidential Friend and a Boston Pilgrim- age 29 V. Going to the Theatre with Longfellow . . 41 VI. Phillips Brooks's Books and Emerson's Men- tal Mist 48 VII. A Plunge into Wall Street 61 VIII. Starting a Newspaper Syndicate 78 IX. Association with Henry Ward Beecher ... 89 X. The First "Woman's Page," "Literary Leaves," AND Entering Scribner's 104 XI. The Chances for Success 119 XII. B^APTisM Under Fire 126 XIII. Publishing Incidents and Anecdotes .... 136 XIV. Last Years in New York 144 xii CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE XV. Successful Editorship i6o XVI. FmsT Years as a Woman's Editor . . . i66 XVII. Eugene Field's Practical Jokes . . . i8i XVIII. Building Up a Magazine 190 XIX. Personality Letters 204 XX. Meeting a Reverse or Two 219 XXI. A Signal Piece of Constructive Work . 238 XXII. An Adventure in Civic and Private Art . 251 XXin. Theodore Roosevelt's Influence ... 266 XXIV. Theodore Roosevelt's Anonymous Edi- torial Work . 273 XXV. The President and the Boy 284 XXVI. The Literary Back-Stairs 291 XXVn. Women's Clubs and Woman Suffrage . . 297 XXVIII. Going Home with Ejpling, and as a Lec- turer 309 XXIX. An Excursion into the Feminine Nature 327 XXX. Cleaning Up the Patent-Medicine and Other Evils 340 XXXI. Adventures in Civics 352 XXXII. A Bewildered Bok 365 XXXIII. How Millions of People Are Reached . 374 XXXIV. A War Magazine and War Activities . . 387 CONTENTS xiii » t- CHAPTBR PAG£ XXXV. At the Battle-Fronts in the Great War 404 XXXVI. The End of Thirty Years' Editorship . 417 XXXVII. The Third Period 424 XXXVIII. Where America Fell Short with Me . . 434 XXXIX. What I Owe to America 448 ■ Edward William Bok: Biographical Data 453 The Expression of a Personal Pleasure 456 Index 457 ILLUSTRATIONS Edward W. Bok Frontispiece lACIHG PAGE Edward Bok at the age of six, upon his arrival in the United States 4 Edward Bok as editor of "The Ladies' Home Journal," in his Philadelphia office 258 A specimen of Theodore Roosevelt's manuscript, which Edward Bok copied for his anonymous department " Men " . . 278 AN INTRODUCTION OF TWO PERSONS m WHOSE LIVES ARE FOUND THE SOURCE AND MAINSPRING OF SOME OF THE EFFORTS OF THE AUTHOR OF THIS BOOK IN HIS LATER YEARS " Along an island in the North Sea, five miles from the Dutch Coast, stretches a dangerous ledge of rocks that has proved the graveyard of many a vessel sailing that turbulent sea. On this island once lived a group of men who, ai each vessel was wrecked, looted the vessel and murdered those of the crew who reached shore. The government of the Netherlands decided to exterminate the island pirates, and for the job King William selected a young lawyer at The Hague. "I want you to clean up that island," was the royal order. It was a formidable job- for a young man of twenty- odd years. By royal proclamation he was made mayor of the island, and within a year, a court of law being estab- lished, the young attorney was appointed judge; and in that dual capacity he "cleaned up" the island. The young man now decided to settle on the island, and began to look around for a home. It was a grim place, barren of tree or living green of any kind; it was as if a man had been exiled to Siberia. Still, argued the young mayor, an ugly place is ugly only because it is not beau- tiful. And beautiful he determined this island should be. xviii AN INTRODUCTION OF TWO PERSONS One day the young mayor-judge called together his coun- cil. "We must have trees," he said; "we can make this island a spot of beauty if we will!" But the practical sea- faring men demurred; the little money they had was needed for matters far more urgent than trees. / "Very well" was the mayor's decision — and little they guessed what the words were destined to mean — "/ wUl do it myself." And that year he planted one hundred trees, the first the island had ever seen. "Too cold," said the islanders; "the severe north winds and storms will kill them all." "Then I will plant more," said the un,perturbed mayor. And for the fifty years that he lived on the island he did so. He planted trees each year; and, moreover, he had deeded to the island government land which he turned into piMic squares and parks, and where each spring he set out shrubs and plants. Moistened by the salt mist the trees did not wither, but grew prodigiously. In all that expanse of turbulent sea — and only those who have seen the North Sea in a storm know how turbulent it can be — there was not a foot of ground on which the birds, storm-driven across the water-waste, could rest in their flight. Hundreds of dead birds often covered the surface of the sea. Then one day the trees had grown tall enough to look over the sea, and, spent and driven, the first birds came and rested in their leafy shelter. And others came and found protection, and gave their gratitude AN INTRODUCTION OF TWO PERSONS xix vent in song. Within a few years so many birds had dis- covered the trees in this new island home that they attracted the attention not only of the native islanders but also of the people on the shore five miles distant, and the island be- came famous as the home of the rarest and most beautiful birds. So grateful were the birds for their resting-place that they chose one end of the island as a special spot for the laying of their eggs and the raising of their young, and they fairly peopled it. It was not long before ornithologists from various parts of the world came to " Eggland" as the farthermost point of the island came to be known, to see the marvellous sight, not of thousands but of hundreds of thousands of bird-eggs. A pair of storm-driven nightingales had now found the island and mated there; their wonderful notes thrilled even the souls of the natives; and as dusk fell upon the seabound strip of land the women and children would come to "the square" and listen to the evening notes of the birds of golden song. The two nightingales soon grew into a colony, and within a few years so rich was the island in its nightingales that over to the Dutch coast and throughout the land and into other countries spread the fame of " The Island of Night- ingales." Meantime, the young mayor-judge, grown to manhood, had kept on planting trees each year, setting out his shrub- bery and plants, until their verdure now beautifully shaded the quaint, narrow lanes, and transformed into cool wooded XX AN INTRODUCTION OF TWO PERSONS roads what once had been only barren sun-baked wastes. Artists began to hear of the place and brought their can- vases, and on the walls of hundreds of homes throughout the world hang to-day bits of the beautiful lanes and wooded spots of "The Island of Nightingales." The American artist William M. Chase took his pupils there almost annually. "In all the world to-day" he declared to his students, as they exclaimed at the natural cool restfulness of the island, "there is no more beautiful place." The trees are now majestic in their height of forty or more feet, for it is nearly a hundred years since the young attorney went to the island and planted the first tree; to- day the churchyard where he lies is a bower of cool green, with the trees that he planted dropping their moisture on the lichen-covered stone on his grave. ' This much did one man do. But he did more. After he had been on the barren island two years he went to the mainland one day, and brought back with him a bride. It was a bleak place for a bridal home, but the young wife had the qualities of the husband. "While you raise your trees," she said, "I will raise our children." And within a score of years the young bride sent thirteen happy-faced, well-brought-up children over that island, and there was reared a home such as is given to few. Said a man who subsequently married a daughter of that home: "It was such a home that once you had been in it you fdt you must be of it, and thai if you couldn't marry one of the AN INTRODUCTION OF TWO PERSONS xxi daughters you would have been glad to have married the cook" One day when the children had grown to man's and wo- man's estate the mother called them all together and said to them, "/ want to tell you the story of your father and of this island" and she told them the simple story that is written here. "And now," she said, "as you go out into the world I want each of you to take with you the spirit of your father's work,, and each in your own way and place, to do as he has done: make you the world a hit more beautiful and better because you have been in it. That is your mother's message to you." The first son to leave the island home went with a band of hardy men to South Africa, where they settled and became known as "the Boers." Tirelessly they worked at the colony until towns and cities sprang up and a new nation came into being: The Transvaal Republic. The son be- came secretary of state of the new country, and to-day the United States of South Africa bears tribute, in part, to the mother's message to "make the world a bit more beauti- ful and better." The second son left home for the Dutch mainland, where he took charge of a small parish; and when he had finished his work he was mourned by king and peasant as one of the leading clergymen of his time and people. A third son, scorning his own safety, plunged into the xxii AN INTRODUCTION OF TWO PERSONS boiling surf on one of those nights of terror so common to thai coast, rescued a half-dead sailor, carried him to his father's house, and brought him back to a life of usefulness that gave the world a record of imperishable value. For the half-drowned sailor was Eeinrich Schliemann, the famous explorer of the dead cities of Troy. The first daughter now left the island nest; to her in- spiration her husband owed, at his life's close, a shdf of works in philosophy which to-day are among the standard books of their class. The second daughter worked beside her husband until she brought him to be regarded as one of the ablest preachers of his land, speaking for more than forty years the message of man's betterment. To another son it was given to sit wisely in the councils of his land; another followed the footsteps of his father. Another daughter, refusing marriage for duty, ministered unto and made a home for one whose eyes could see not. So they went out into the world, the girls and boys of that island home, each carrying the story of their father's simple but beautiful work and the remembrance of their mother's message. Not one from that home but did well his or her work in the world; some greater, some smaller, but each left behind the traces of a life well spent. And, as all good work is immortal, so to-day all over the world goes on the influence of this one man and one woman, whose life on that little Dutch island changed its barren AN INTRODUCTION OF TWO PERSONS xxiii rocks to a bower of verdure, a home for the birds and the song of the nightingale. The grandchildren have gone to the four corners of the globe, and are now the generation of workers — some in the far East Indies; others in Africa; still others in our own land of America. But each has tried, according to the talents given, to carry out the message of that day, to fell the story of the grandfather's work; just as it is told here by the author of this book, who, in the efforts of his later years, has tried to carry out, so far as opportunity has come to him, the message of his grand- mother: "Make you the world a bit more beautiful and better because you have been in it." ' THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK CHAPTER I THE FIRST DAYS IN AMERICA The leviathan of the Atlantic Ocean, in 1870, was The Queen, and when she was warped into her dock on September 20 of that year, she discharged, among her passengers, a family of four from the Netherlands who were to make an experiment of Americanization. The father, a man bearing one of the most respected names in the Netherlands, had acquired wealth and position for himself; unwise investments, however, had swept away his fortune, and in preference to a* new start in his own land, he had decided to make the new be- ginning in the United States, where a favorite brother- in-law had gone several years before. But that, never a simple matter for a man who has reached forty-two, is particularly diflicult for a foreigner in a strange land. This fact he and his wife were to find out. The wife, also carefuUy reared, had been accustomed to a scale of living which she had now to abandon. Her American- ization experiment was to compel her, for the first time in her life, to become a housekeeper without domestic help. There were two boys: the elder, WiUiam, was eight and a half years of age; the younger, in nineteen days from his landing-date, was to celebrate his seventh birthday. This younger boy was Edward William Bok. He had, according to the Dutch custom, two other names, but 2 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK he had decided to leave those in the Netherlands, And the American public was, in later years, to omit for him the "WilHam." Edward's first six days in the United States were spent in New York, and then he was taken to Brooklyn, where he was destined to hve for nearly twenty years. Thanks to the linguistic sense inherent in the Dutch, and to an educational system that compels the study of languages, English was already familiar to the father and mother. But to the two sons, who had barely learned the beginnings of their native tongue, the Eng- lish language was as a closed book. It seemed a cruel decision of the father to put his two boys into a public school in Brooklyn, but he argued that if they were to become Americans, the sooner they became part of the life of the country and learned its language for them- selves, the better. And so, without the ability to make known the slightest want or to understand a single word, the morning after their removal to Brooklyn, the two boys were taken by their father to a public school. The American pubUc-school teacher was perhaps even less well equipped in those days than sh^s to-day to meet the needs of two Dutch boys who could not imder- stand a word she said, and who could only wonder what it was aU about. The brothers did not even have the comfort of each other's company, for, graded by age, they were placed in separate classes. Nor was the American boy of 1870 a whit less cruel than is the American boy of 1920; and he was none the less loath to show that cruelty. This trait was evident at the first recess of the first day at school. At the dis- THE FIRST DAYS IN AMERICA 3 missal, the brothers naturally sought each other, only to find themselves surroimded by a group of tormentors who were delighted to have such promising objects for their fun. And of this opportvmity they made the most. There was no form of petty cruelty boys' minds could devise that was not inflicted upon the two helpless strangers. Edward seemed to look particularly invit- ing, and nicknaming him "Dutchy " they devoted them- selves at each noon recess and after school to inflicting their cruelties upon him. Louis XIV may have been right when he said that "every new language requires a new soul," but Edward Bok knew that while spoken languages might differ, there is one language understood by boys the world over. And with this language Edward decided to do some ex- perimenting. After a few days at school, he cast his eyes over the group of his tormentors, picked out one who seemed to him the ringleader, and before the boy was aware of what had happened, Edward Bok was in the full swing of his first real experiment with American- ization, Of course the American boy retaUated. But the boy from the Netherlands had not been bom and brought up in the muscle-building air of the Dutch dikes for nothing, and after a few moments he found himself looking down on his tormentor and into the eyes of a crowd of very respectful boys and giggUng girls who readily made a passageway for his brother and himself when they indicated a desire to leave the schoolyard and go home. Edward now felt that his Americanization had be- gun; but, always believing that a thing begun must be 4 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK carried to a finish, he took, or gave — ^it depends upon the point of view — two or three more lessons in this particular phase of Americanization before he convinced these American schoolboys that it might be best for them to call a halt upon further excursions in tor- ment. At the best, they were difficult days at school for a boy of six without the language. But the national hnguistic gift inherent in the Dutch race came to the boy's rescue, and as the roots of the Anglo-Saxon lie in the Frisian tongue, and thus in the language of his native country, Edward soon fotmd that with a change of vowel here and there the English language was not so difficult of conquest. At all events, he set out to master it. But his fatal gift of editing, although its possession was unknown to him, began to assert itself when, just as he seemed to be getting along fairly weU, he balked at following the Spencerian style of writing in his copy- books. Instinctively he rebelled at the flourishes which «nibellished that form of handwriting. He seemed to divine somehow that such penmanship could not be useful or practicable for after hfe, and so, with that Dutch stolidity that, once fixed, knows no altering, he refused to copy his writing lessons. Of course trouble immediately ensued between Edward and his teacher. Finding herself against a hteral blank wall — for Edward simply refused, but had not the gift of English with which to explain his refusal — the teacher decided to take the matter to the male principal of the school. She explained that she had kept Edward after school for EDWARD BOK AT THE AGE OF SLX Upon his arrivLil in the UnitcrJ States THE FIRST DAYS IN AMERICA 5 as long as two hours to compel him to copy his Spert- cerian lesson, but that the boy simply sat quiet. He was perfectly well-behaved, she explained, but as to his lesson, he would attempt absolutely nothing. It was the prevaiUng custom in the pubUc schools of 1870 to punish boys by making them hold out the palms of their hands, upon which the principal would inflict blows with a rattan. The first time Edward was pim- ished in this way, his hand became so swollen he wondered at a system of punishment which rendered him incapable of writing, particularly as the discerning principal had chosen the boy's right hand upon which to rain the blows. Edward was told to sit down at the principal's own desk and copy the lesson. He sat, but he did not write. He would not for one thing, and he could not if he would. After half an hour of pur- poseless sitting, the principal ordered Edward again to stand up and hold out his hand; and once more the rattan fell in repeated blows. Of course it did no good, and as it was then five o'clock, and the principal had inflicted aU the punishment that the law allowed, and as he probably wanted to go home as much as Edward did, he dismissed the sore-handed but more-than-ever- determined Dutch boy. Edward went home to his father, exhibited his swol- len hand, explained the reason, and showed the pen- manship lesson which he had refused to copy. It is a singular fact that even at that age he already under- stood Americanization enough to reaUze that to cope successfully with any American institution, one must be constructive as well as destructive. He went to his 6 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK room, brought out a specimen of Italian handwriting which he had seen in a newspaper, and e^lained to his father that this simpler penmanship seemed to him better for practical purposes than the curlicue fancifully SPENCERIAN STYLE IN VOGUE AT THIS PEBUOD embroidered Spencerian style; that if he had to learn penmanship, why not learn the system that was of more possible use in after life ? Now, your Dutchman is nothing if not practical. He is very simple and direct in his nature, and is very likely to be equally so in his mental view. Edward's father was distinctly interested — ^very much amused, as he confessed to the boy in later years — in his son's discem- ment of the futility of the Spencerian style of penman- ship. He agreed with the boy, and, next morning, ac- companied him to school and to the principal. The two .men were closeted together, and when they came out jEdward was sent to his classroom. For some weeks he was given no penmanship lessons, and then a new copy-book was given him with a much simpler style. He pounced upon it, and within a short time stood at the head of his class in writing. The same instinct that was so often to lead Edward aright in his future hfe, at its very beginning served him THE FIRST DAYS IN AMERICA 7 in a singularly valuable way in directing his attention to the study of penmanship; for it was through his legible handwriting that later, in the absence of the typewriter, he was able to secure and satisfactorily fill three positions which were to lead to his final success. Years afterward Edward had the satisfaction of seeing SPENCERIAN STYLE NOW IN VOGUE public-school pupils given a choice of penmanship lessons: one along the flourish fines and the other of a less ornate order. Of course, the boy never associated the incident of his refusal with the change until later when his mother explained to him that the principal of the school, of whom the father had made a warm friend, was so impressed by the boy's simple but correct view, that he took up the matter with the board of education, and a choice of systems was considered and later de- cided upon. From this it wiU be seen that, unconsciously, Edward Bok had started upon his career of editing ! CHAPTER II THE FIRST JOB: FIFTY CENTS A WEEK The elder Bok did not find his "lines cast in pleasant places" in the United States. He foxind himself, pro- fessionally, unable to adjust the methods of his own land and of a lifetime to those of a new countr^. As a result the fortxmes of the transplanted fanuly did not flourish, and Edward soon saw his mother physically failing under burdens to which her nature was not accustomed nor her hands traiaed. Then he and his brother decided to relieve their mother in the house- work by rising early in the morning, building the fire, preparing breakfast, and washing the dishes before they went to school. After school they gave up their play hours, and swept and scrubbed, and helped their mother to prepare the evening meal and wash the dishes after- ward. It was a curious coincidence that it should fall upon Edward thus to get a first-hand knowledge of woman's housework which was to stand him in such practical stead in later years. It was not easy for the parents to see their boys thus forced to do work which only a short while before had been done by a retinue of servants. And the capstone of humiliation seemed to be when Edward and his brother, after having for several mornings found no kindling wood or coal to build the fire, decided to go out of evenings with a basket and pick up what wood they THE FIRST JOB: FIFTY GENTS A WEEK 9 coxild find in neighboring lots, and the bits of coal spiUed from the coal-bin of the grocery-store, or left on the curbs before houses where coal had been de- livered. The mother remonstrated with the boys, al- though in her heart she knew that the necessity was upon them. But Edward had been started upon his Ameri- canization career, and answered: "This is America, where one can do anything if it is honest. So long as we don't steal the wood or coal, why shouldn't we get it?" And, turning away, the saddened mother said nothing. But whUe the doing of these homely chores was very effective in relieving the untrained and tired mother, it added little to the family income. Edward looked about and decided that the time had come for him, young as he was, to begin some sort of wage-earning. But how and where? The answer he found one afternoon when standing before the shop-window of a baker in the neighborhood. The owner of the bakery, who had just placed in the window a series of trays filled with bims, tarts, and pies, came outside to look at the display. He found the hungry boy wistfully regarding the tempting- looking wares. "Look pretty good, don't they?" asked the baker. "They would," answered the Dutch boy with his national passion for cleanliness, "if your window were clean." "That's so, too," mused the baker. "Perhaps you'll clean it." "I will," was the laconic reply. And Edward Bok, there and then, got his first job. He went in, found a lo THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK step-ladder, and put so much Dutch energy into the cleaning of the large show-window that the baker immediately arranged with him to clean it every Tues- day and Friday afternoon after school. The salary was to be fifty cents per week ! But one day, after he had finished cleaning the win- dow, and the baker was busy in the rear of the store, a customer came in, and Edward ventured to wait on her. Dexterously he wrapped up for another the fra- grant currant-bxms for which his young soul — and stomach — so himgered ! The baker watched him, saw how quickly and smilingly he served the customer, and offered Edward an extra doUar per week if he would come in afternoons and sell behind the counter. He immediately entered into the bargain with the un- derstanding that, in addition to his salary of a dollar and a half per week, he shotdd each afternoon carry home from the good things unsold a moderate some- thing as a present to his mother. The baker agreed, and Edward promised to come each afternoon except Saturday. "Want to play ball, hey?" said the baker. "Yes, I want to play ball," replied the boy, but he was not reserving his Saturday afternoons for games, al- though, boy-like, that might be his preference. Edward now took on for each Saturday morning — when, of course, there was no school — the delivery route of a weekly paper called the South Brooklyn Advocate. He had offered to deliver the entire neighborhood edition of the paper for one doUar, thus increasing his earning capacity to two dollars and a half per week. THE FIRST JOB: FIFTY CENTS A WEEK ii Transportation, in those days in Brooklyn, was by horse-cars, and the car-line on Smith Street nearest Edward's home ran to Coney Island. Just around the comer where Edward lived the cars stopped to water the horses on their long haul. The boy noticed that the men jxmiped from the open cars in summer, ran into the cigar-store before which the watering-trough was placed, and got a drink of water from the ice-cooler placed near the door. But that was not so easily possible for the women, and they, especially the children, were forced to take the long ride without a drink. It was this that he had in mind when he reserved his Saturday afternoon to "play baU." Here was an opening, and Edward decided to fill it. He bought a shining new pail, screwed three hooks on the edge from which he hung three clean shimmering glasses, and one Saturday afternoon when a car stopped the boy leaped on, tactfuUy asked the conductor if he did not want a drink, and then proceeded to sell his water, cooled with ice, at a cent a glass to the passen- gers. A little experience showed that he exhausted a pail with every two cars, and each paU netted him thirty cents. Of course Simday was a most profitable day; and after going to Sunday-school in the morning, he did a further Sabbath service for the rest of the day by re- freshing tired mothers and thirsty children on the Coney Island cars — ^at a penny a glass ! But the profit of six dollars which Edward was now reaping in his newly foimd "bonanza" on Saturday and Sunday afternoons became apparent to other boys, and one Saturday the young ice-water boy foimd that 12 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK he had a competitor; then two and soon three. Ed- ward immediately met the challenge; he squeezed half a dozen lemons into each pail of water, added some sugar, tripled his charge, and continued his monopoly by selling "Lemonade, three cents a glass." Soon more passengers were asking for lemonade than for plain drinking-water ! One evening Edward went to a party of young peo- ple, and his latent journalistic sense whispered to him that his young hostess might like to see her social affair in print. He went home, wrote up the party, being careful to include the name of every boy and girl present, and next morning took the account to the dty editor of the Brooklyn Eagle, with the sage observation that every name mentioned in that paragraph represented a buyer of the paper, who would like to see his or her name in print, and that if the editor had enough of these re- ports he might very advantageously strengthen the cir- culation of The Eagle. The editor was not slow to see the point, and offered Edward three dollars a column for such reports. On his way home, Edward calculated how many parties he would have to attend a week to furnish a colxman, and decided that he would organize a corps of private reporters himself. Forthwith, he saw every girl and boy he knew, got each to promise to write for him an account of each party he or she attended or gave, and laid great stress on a fuU recital of names. Within a few weeks, Edward was turning in to The Eagle from two to three columns a week; his pay was raised to four dollars a column; the editor was pleased id having started a department that no other paper car- THE FIRST JOB: FIFTY CENTS A WEEK 13 ried, and the "among those present" at the parties all bought the paper and were immensely gratified to see their names. So everybody was happy, and Edward Bok, as a full- fledged reporter, had begun his journalistic career. It is curious how deeply embedded in his nature, even in his earUest years, was the incUnation toward the pubHshing business. The word "curious" is used here because Edward is the first journalist in the Bok family in all the cerituries through which it extends in Dutch history. On his father's side, there was a succession of jurists. On the mother's side, not a journalist is visible. Edward attended the Sunday-school of the Carroll Park Methodist Episcopal Church, in Brooklyn, of which a Mr. Elkins was superintendent. One day he learned that Mr. Elkins was associated with the pub- lishing house of Harper and Brothers. Edward had heard his father speak of Earper^s Weekly and of the great part it had played in the Civil War; his father also brought home an occasional copy of Harper's Weekly and of Harper's Magazine. He had seen Har- per's Young People; the name of Harper and Brothers was on some of his school-books; and he pictured in his mind how wonderful it must be for a man to be associ- ated with publishers of periodicals that other people read, and books that other folks studied. The Sunday- school superintendent henceforth became a figure of importance in Edward's eyes; many a morning the boy hastened from home long before the hour for school, and seated himself on the steps of the Elkins house imder the pretext of waiting for Mr. EUdns's son to go 14 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK to sdiool, but really for the secret purpose of seeing Mr. Elkins set forth to engage in the momentous business of making books and periodicals. Edward would look after the superintendent's form until it was lost to view; then, with a sigh, he would go to school, forgetting all about the Elkins boy whom he had told the father he had come to call for ! One day Edward was mtroduced to a girl whose father, he learned, was editor of the New York Weekly. Edward could not quite place this periodical; he had never seen it, he had never heard of it. So he bought a copy, and while its contents seemed strange, and its air unfamiliar in comparison with the magazines he found in his home, stiU an editor was an editor. He was certainly weU worth knowing. So he sought his newly made young lady friend, asked permission to caU upon her, and to Edward's joy was introduced to her father. It was enough for Edward to look furtively at the editor upon his first call, and being encouraged to come again, he promptly did so the next evening. The daughter has long since passed away, and so it cannot hurt her feelings now to acknowledge that for years Edward paid court to her only that he might know her father, and have those talks with him about editorial methods that fiUed him with ever-increasing ambition to tread the path that leads to editorial tribulations. But what with helping his mother, tending the baker's shop in after-school hours, serving his paper route, plying his street-car trade, and acting as social reporter, it soon became evident to Edward that he had not much time to prepare his school lessons. By a supreme effort, THE FIRST JOB: FIFTY CENTS A WEEK 15 he managed to hold his own in his class, but no more. Instinctively, he felt that he was not getting aU that he might from his educational opportunities, yet the need for him to add to the family income was, if anything, becoming greater. The idea of leaving school was broached to his mother, but she rebelled. She told the boy that he was earning something now and helping much. Perhaps the tide with the father would turn and he would find the place to which his unquestioned talents entitled him. Finally the father did. He as- sociated himself with the Western Union Telegraph Company as translator, a position for which his easy command of languages admirably fitted him. Thus, for a time, the strain upon the family exchequer was lessened. But the American spirit of initiative had entered deep into the soul of Edward Bok. The brother had left school a year before, and found a place as messenger in a lawyer's office; and when one evening Edward heard his father say that the office boy in his department had left, he asked that he be allowed to leave school, apply for the open position, and get the rest of his education in the great world itself. It was not easy for the parents to see the younger son leave school at so early an age, but the earnestness of the boy prevailed. And so, at the age of thirteen, Edward Bok left school, and on Monday, August 7, 1876, he became office boy in the electricians' department of the Western Union Telegraph Company at six dollars and twenty-five cents per wedc. And, as such things will fall out in this curiously 1 6 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK strange world, it happened that as Edward drew up his chair for the first time to his desk to begin his work on that Monday morning, there had been bom in Boston, exactly twelve hours before, a girl-baby who was des- tined to become his wife. Thus at the earliest possible moment after her birth, Edward Bok started to work for her! CHAPTER III THE HUNGER FOR SELF-EDUCATION With school-days ended, the question of self-educa- tion became an absorbing thought with Edward Bok. He had mastered a schoolboy's EngHsh, but seven years of pubhc-school education was hardly a basis on which to biuld the work of a lifetime. He saw each day in his duties as ofl&ce boy some of the foremost men of the time. It was the period of William H. Vander- bilt's ascendancy in Western Union control; and the rail- road miUionnaire and his companions, Hamilton McK. Twombly, James H. Banker, Samuel F. Barger, Alonzo B. Cornell, Augustus ScheU, William Orton, were ob- jects of great interest to the young ofl&ce boy. Alexander Graham BeU and Thomas A. Edison were also constant .visitors to the department. He knew that some of these men, too, had been deprived of the advantage of coUegiate training, and yet they had risen to the top. But how? The boy decided to read about these men and others, and find out. He could not, however, af- ford the separate biographies, so he went to the Hbra- ries to find a compendium that would authoritatively tell him of aU successful men. He found it in Appleten's Encyclopedia, and, determining to have only the best, he saved his luncheon money, walked instead of riding the five miles to his Brooklyn home, and, after a period J7 i8 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK of saving, had his reward in the first purchase from his own earnings: a set of the Encyclopcedia. He now read about all the successful men, and was encouraged to find that in many cases their beginnings had been as modest as his own, and their opportimities of education as limited. One day it occurred to him to test the accuracy of the biographies he was reading. James A. Garfield was then spoken of for the presidency; Edward wondered whether it was true that the man who was likely to be President of the United States had once been a boy on the tow-p>ath, and with a simple directness characteristic of his Dutch training, wrote to General Garfield, asking whether the boyhood episode was true, and explaining why he asked. Of course any public man, no matter how large his correspondence, is pleased to receive an earnest letter from an information-seeking boy. Gen- eral Garfield answered warmly and fully. Edward showed the letter to his father, who told the boy that it was valuable and he should keep it. This was a new idea. He followed it further: if one such letter was valuable, how much more valuable would be a hundred ! If General Garfield answered him, would not other famous men? Why not begin a collection of autograph letters? Everybody collected something. Edward had collected postage-stamps, and the hobby had, incidentally, helped him wonderfully in his study of geography. Why should not autograph letters from famous persons be of equal service in his struggle for self-education? Not simple autographs — they were meaningless; but actual letters which might teU him THE HUNGER FOR SELF-EDUCATION 19 something useful. It never occurred to the boy that these men might not answer him. So he took his EncyclopcBdia — ^its trastworthiness now established in his mind by General Garfield's letter— and began to study the lives of successful men and women. Then, with bo3dsh frankness, he wrote on some mooted question in one famous person's life; he asked about the date of some important event in an- other's, not given in the Encydopadia; or he asked one nian why he did this or why some other man did that. Most interesting were, of course, the replies. Thus General Grant sketched on an improvised map the exact spot where General Lee surrendered to him; Longfellow told him how he came to write "Excelsior"; Whittier told the story of "The Barefoot Boy"; Tennyson wrote out a stanza or two of "The Brook," upon condition that Edward would not again use the word "awful," which the poet said "is slang for 'very,'" and "I hate slang." One day the boy received a letter from the Con- federate general Jubal A. Early, giving the real reason why he burned Chambersburg. A friend visiting Ed- ward's father, happening to see the letter, recognized in it a hitherto-missing bit of history, and suggested that it be published in the New York Tribune. The letter attracted wide attention and provoked national dis- cussion. This suggested to the editor of The Tribune that Edward might have other equally interesting letters; so he despatched a reporter to the boy's home. This reporter was Ripley Hitchcock, who afterward became 20 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK Kterary adviser for the Appletons and Harpers. Of course Hitchcock at once saw a "story" in the boy's letters, and within a few days The Tribune appeared with a long article on its principal news page giving an account of the Brooklyn boy's remarkable letters and how he had secured them. The Brooklyn Eagle quickly followed with a request for an interview; the Boston Globe followed suit; the Philadelphia Public Ledger sent its New York correspondent; and before Edward was aware of it, newspapers in different parts of the country were writing about "the weU-known Brooklyn autograph collector." Edward Bok was quick to see the value of the pub- licity which had so suddenly come to him. He received letters from other autograph collectors aU over the coun- try who sought to "exchange" with him. References began to creep into letters from famous persons to whom he had written, saying they had read about his won- derful collection and were proud to be iacluded in it. George W. ChUds, of Philadelphia, himself the possessor of probably one of the finest collections of autograph letters in the country, asked Edward to come to Phila- delphia and bring his collection with him — which he did, on the following Sunday, and brought it back greatly enriched. Several of the writers felt an interest in a boy who frankly told them that he wanted to educate himself, and asked Edward to come and see them. Accordingly, when they lived in New York or Brooklyn, or came to these cities on a visit, he was quick to avail himself of their invitations. He began to note each day in the THE HUNGER FOR SELF-EDUCATION 21 newspapers the "distinguished arrivals" at the New York hotels; and when any one with whom he had corresponded arrived, Edward would, after business hours, go up-town, pay his respects, and thank him in person for his letters. No person was too high for Edward's boyish approach; President Garfield, General Grant, General Sherman, President Hayes — ^all were called upon, and aU received the boy graciously and were interested in the problem of his self-education. It was a veritable case of making friends on every hand; friends who were to be of the greatest help and value to the boy in his after-years, although he had no conception of it at the time. The Fifth Avenue Hotel, in those days the stopping- place of the majority of the famous men and women visiting New York, represented to the young boy who came to see these celebrities the very pinnacle of opu- lence. Often while waiting to be received by some dignitary, he wondered how one could acquire enough means to Hve at a place of such luxury. The main dining-room, to the boy's mind, was an object of special interest. He would purposely sneak up-stairs and sit on one of the soft sofas in the foyer simply to see the well-dressed diners go in and come out. Edward would speculate on whether the time would ever come when he could dine in that wonderful room just once ! One evening he called, after the close of business, upon General and Mrs. Grant, whom he had met be- fore, and who had expressed a desire to see his collec- tion. It can readily be imagined what a red-letter day it made in the boy's life to have General Grant say: "It 22 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK might be better for us all to go down to dinner first and see the collection afterward." Edward had pur- posely killed time between five and seven o'clock, thinking that the general's dinner-hour, like his own, was at six. He had allowed an hour for the general to eat his dinner, only to find that he was still to begin it. The boy could hardly believe his ears, and imable to find his voice, he failed to apologize for his modest suit or his general after-business appearance. As in a dream he went down in the elevator with his host and hostess, and when the party of three faced toward the dining-room entrance, so familiar to the boy, he felt as if his legs must give way under him. There have since been other red-letter days in Edward Bok's life, but the moment that stUl stands out pre- eminent is that when two colored head waiters at the dining-room entrance, whom he had so often watched, bowed low and escorted the party to their table. At last, he was in that sumptuous dining-haU. The entire room took on the picture of one great eye, and that eye centred on the party of three — ^as, in fact, 'it naturally would. But Edward felt that the eye was on him, wondering why he should be there. What he ate and what he said he does not recall. General Grant, not a voluble talker himself, gently drew the boy out, and Mrs. Grant seconded him, until toward the close of the dinner he heard himself talking. He remembers that he heard his voice, but what that voice said is all dim to him. One act stamped itself on his mind. The dinner ended with a wonderful dish of nuts and raisins, and just before the party rose from THE HUNGER FOR SELF-EDUCATION 23 the table Mrs. Grant asked the waiter to bring her a paper bag. Into this she emptied the entire dish, and at the close of the evening she gave it to Edward "to eat on the way home." It was a wonderful eve- ning, afterward up-stairs. General Grant smoking the in- evitable cigar, and telling stories as he read the letters of different celebrities. Over those of Confederate gen- erals he grew reminiscent; and when he came to a letter from General Sherman, Edward remembers that he chuckled audibly, reread it, and then turning to Mrs. Grant, said: "Julia, hsten to this from Sherman. Not bad." The letter he read was this: Dear Mr. Bok: — I prefer not to make scraps of sentimental writing. When I write anything I want it to be real and connected ia form, as, for instance, in your quotation from Lord Lytton's play of "Richelieu," "The pen is mightier than the sword." Lord Lytton would never have put his signature to so naked a sentiment. Surely I will not. In the text there was a prefix or qualification: Beneath the rule of men entirely great The pen is mightier than the sword. Now, this world does not often present the condition of facts herein described. Men entirely great are very rare indeed, and even Washington, who approadied greatness as near as any mortal, found good use for the sword and the pen, each in its proper sphere. You and I have seen the day when a great and good man ruled this country (Lincoln) who wielded a powerful and pro- lific pen, and yet had to call to bis assistance a> million of flaming swords. 24 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK No, I cannot subscribe to your sentiment, "The pen is mightier than the sword," which you ask me to write, because it is not true. Rather, in the providence of God, there is a time for all things; a time when the sword may cut the Gordian knot, and set free the principles of right and justice, bound up in the meshes of hatred, revenge, and tyranny, that the pens of mighty men like Clay, Webster, Crittenden, and Lincoln were unable to disentangle. Widiing you all success, I am, with respect, your friend, ^ ^ Shekman. Mrs. Grant had asked Edward to send her a photo- graph, of himself, and after one had been taken, the boy took it to the Fifth Avenue Hotel, intending to a^ the clerk to send it to her room. Instead, he met General and Mrs. Grant just coming from the elevator, going out to dinner. The boy told them his errand, and said he would have the photograph sent up-stairs. "I am so sorry we are just going out to dinner," said Mrs. Grant, "for the general had some excellent photo- graphs just taken of himself, and he signed one for you, and put it aside, intending to send it to you when yours came." Then, turning to the general, she said: "Ulys- ses, send up for it. We have a few moments." "I'U go and get it. I know just where it is," returned the general. "Let me have yours," he said, turning to Edward. "I am glad to exchange photographs with you, boy." To Edward's surprise, when the general returned he brought with him, not a dupUcate of the small carte- de-visite size which he had given the general — all that he could afford — ^but a large, full cabinet size. THE HUNGER FOR SELF-EDUCATION 25 "They make 'em too big," said the general, as he handed it to Edward. But the boy didn't think so ! That evening was one that the boy was long to re- member. It suddenly came to him that he had read a few days before of Mrs. Abraham Lincoln's arrival in New York at Doctor Holbrook's sanitarium. Thither Edward went; and within half an hour from the time ./s.'^hy. he had been talking with General Grant he was sitting at the bedside of Mrs. Lincoln, showing her the wonder- ful photograph just presented to him. Edward saw that the widow of the great Lincoln did not mentally respond to his pleasure in his possession. It was apparent even to the boy that mental and physical illness had done their work with the frail frame. But he had the memory, at least, of having got that close to the great President. The eventful evening, however, was not yet over. Edward had boarded a Broadway stage to take him to his Brooklyn home when, glancing at the newspaper of a man sitting next to him, he saw the headline: "Jef- ferson Davis arrives in New York." He read enough to see that the Confederate President was stopping at the MetropoUtan Hotel, in lower Broadway, and as he looked out of the stage-window the sign "Metropolitan 26 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK Hotel" stared him in the face. In a moment he was out of the stage; he wrote a little note, asked the clerk to send it to Mr. Davis, and within five minutes was talking to the Confederate President and telling of his remarkable evening. Mr. Davis was keenly interested in the coincidence and in the boy before him. He asked about the famous collection, and promised to secure for Edward a letter written by each member of the Confederate Cabinet. This he subsequently did. Edward remained with Mr. Davis until ten o'clock, and that evening brought about an interchange of letters between the Brooklyn boy and Mr. Davis at Beauvoir, Mississippi, that lasted until the latter passed away. Edward was fast absorbing a tremendous quantity of biographical information about the most famous men and women of his time, and he was compiling a collection of autograph letters that the newspapers had made famous throughout the country. He was ruminating over his possessions one day, and wondering to what practical use he could put his collection; for while it was proving educative to a wonderful degree, it was, after all, a hobby, and a hobby means expense. His autograph quest cost him stationery, postage, car-fare — all outgo. But it had brought him no income, save a rich mental revenue. And the boy and his family needed money. He did not know, then, the value of a background. He was thinking along this line in a restaurant when a man sitting next to him opened a box of cigarettes, and taking a picture out of it threw it on the floor. Edward picked it up, thinking it might be a "prospect" for his THE HUNGER FOR SELF-EDUCATION 27 collection of autograph letters. It was the picture of a well-known actress. He then recalled an adver- tisement announcing that this particular brand of cigarettes contained, in each package, a Uthographed portrait of some famous actor or actress, and that if the purchaser would collect these he would, in the end, have a valuable album of the greatest actors and actresses of the day. Edward turned the picture over, only to find a blank reverse side. "All very well," he thought, "but what does a purchaser have, after all, in the end, but a lot of pictures ? Why don't they use the back of each picture, and tell what each did: a little biography? Then it would be worth keeping." With his passion for self-education, the idea appealed very strongly to him; and believing firmly that there were others pos- sessed of the same thirst, he set out the next day, in his luncheon hour, to find out who made the picture. At the oflice of the cigarette company he learned that the making of the pictures was in the hands of the Knapp Lithographic Company. The following luncheon hour, Edward sought the ofl&ces of the company, and ex- plained his idea to Mn Joseph P. Knapp, now the president of the American Lithograph Company. "I'll give you ten dollars apiece if you will write me a one-hundred-word biography of one hundred famous Americans," was Mr. Knapp's instant reply. "Send me a Ust, and group them, as, for instance: presidents and vice-presidents, famous soldiers, actors, authors, etc." "And thus," says Mr. Knapp, as he tells the tale to- day, "I gave Edward Bok his first literary commission, and "Started him off on his hterary career." 28 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK And it is true. But Edward soon found the Lithograph Com- pany calling for "copy," and, write as he might, he could not supply the biographies fast enough. He, at last, completed the first hundred, and so instantaneous was their success that Mr. Knapp called for a second himdred, and then for a third. Finding that one hand was not equal to the task, Edward offered his brother five dollars for each biography; he made the same offer to one or two joumaUsts whom he knew and whose accuracy he could trust; and he was speedily convinced that merely to edit biographies written by others, at one-half the price paid to him, was more profitable than to write himself. So with five journahsts working at top speed to supply the hungry hthograph presses, Mr. Knapp was likewise responsible for Edward Bok's first adventure as an editor. It was commercial, if you will, but it was a commercial editing that had a distinct educational value to a large pubhc. The important point is that Edward Bok was being led more and more to writing and to editorship. CHAPTER IV A PRESIDENTIAL FRIEND AND A BOSTON PILGRIMAGE Edward Bok had not been office boy long before he realized that if he learned shorthand he would stand a better chance for advancement. So he joined the Young Men's Christian Association in Brooklyn, and entered the class in stenography. But as this class met only twice a week, Edward, impatient to learn the art of "pothooks" as quickly as possible, supplemented this instruction by a course given on two other evenings at moderate cost by a Brooklyn business college. As the system taught in both classes was the same, more rapid progress was possible, and the two teachers were con- stantly surprised that he acquired the art so much more quickly than the other students. Before many weeks Edward could "stenograph" fairly well, and as the typewriter had not then come into its own, he was ready to put his knowledge to practical use. An opportunity offered itself when the city editor of the Brooklyn Eagle asked him to report two speeches at a New England Society dinner. The speakers were to be the President of the United States, General Grant, General Sherman, Mr. Evarts, and General Sheridan. Edward was to report what General Grant and the 29 30 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK President said, and was instructed to give the Presi- dent's speech verbatim. At the close of the dinner, the reporters came in and Edward was seated directly in front of the President. In those days when a public dinner included several kinds of wine, it was the custom to serve tte reporters with wine, and as the glasses were placed before Edward's plate he realized that he had to make a decision then and there. He had, of course, constantly seen wine on his father's table, as is the European custom, but the boy had never tasted it. He decided he' would not be- gin then, when he needed a clear head. So, in order to get more room for his note-book, he asked the waiter to remove the glasses. It was the first time he had ever attempted to report a public address. General Grant's remarks were few, as usual, and as he spoke slowly, he gave the young re- porter no trouble. But alas for his stenographic knowl- edge, when President Hayes began to speak ! Edward worked hard, but the President was too rapid for him; he did not get the speech, and he noticed that the re- porters for the other papers fared no better. Nothing daunted, however, after the speechmaking, Edward reso- lutely sought the President, and as the latter turned to him, he told him his plight, explained it was his first im- portant "assignment," and asked if he could possibly be given a copy of the speech so that he could "beat" the other papers. The President looked at him curiously for a moment, and then said: "Can you wait a few minutes?" Edward assured him that he could. A PRESIDENTIAL FRIEND 31 After fifteen minutes or so the President came up to where the boy was waiting, and said abruptly: "Tell me, my boy, why did you have the wine-glasses removed from your place?" Edward was completely taken aback at the question, but he explained his resolution as well as he could. "Did you make that decision this evening?" the President asked. He had. "What is your name?" the President next inquired. He was told. "And you live, where?" Edward told him. "Suppose you write your name and address on this card for me," said the President, reaching for one of the place-cards on the table. The boy did so. "Now, I am stopping with Mr. A. A. Low, on Co- lumbia Heights. Is that in the direction of your home ? " It was. "Suppose you go with me, then, in my carriage," said the President, "and I will give you my speech." Edward was not quite sure now whether he was on his head or his feet. As he drove along with the President and his host, the President asked the boy about himself, what he was doing, etc. On arriving at Mr. Low's house, the Presi- dent went up-stairs, and in a few moments came down with his speech in full, written in his own hand. Ed- ward assured him he would copy it, and return the manu- script in the morning. 32 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK The President took out his watch. It was then after midnight. Musing a moment, he said: "You say you are an office boy; what time must you be at your office ? " "Half past eight, sir." "Well, good night," he said, and then, as if it were a second thought: "By the way, I can get another copy of the speech. Just turn that in as it is, if they can read it." Afterward, Edward found out that, as a matter of fact, it was the President's only copy. Though the boy did not then appreciate this act of consideration, his instinct fortunately led him to copy the speech and leave the original at the President's stopping-place in the morning. And for all his trouble, the young reporter was amply repaid by seeing that The Eagle was the only paper which had a verbatim report of the President's speech. But the day was not yet done ! That evening, upon reaching home, what was the boy's astonishment to find the following note: My dear young Fkiend: — I have been telling Mrs. Hayes this morning of what you told me at the dinner last evening, and she was very much interested. She would like to see you, and joins me in asking if you will call upon us this evening at eight-thirty. Very faithfully yours, Rutherford B. Hayes. Edward had not risen to the possession of a suit of evening clothes, and distinctly felt its lack for this occa- A PRESIDENTIAL FRIEND 33 sion. But, dressed in the best he had, he set out, at eight o'clock, to call on the President of the United States and his wife ! He had no sooner handed his card to the butler than that dignitary, looking at it, announced: "The President and Mrs. Hayes are waiting for you ! " The ring of those magic words stiU soimds in Edward's ears: "The President and Mrs. Hayes are waiting for you!" — and he a boy of sixteen ! Edward had not been in the room ten minutes be- fore he was made to feel as thoroughly at ease as if he were sitting in his own home before an open fire with his father and mother. SkiKuUy the President drew from him the story of his youthful hopes and ambitions, and before the boy knew it he was telling the President and his wife aU about his precious Encyclopadia, his evening with General Grant, and his efforts to become some- thing more than an office boy. No boy had ever so gracious a listener before; no mother could have been more tenderly motherly than the woman who sat op- posite him and seemed so honestly interested in all that he told. Not for a moment during aU those two hours was he allowed to remember that his host and hostess were the President of the United States and the first lady of the land ! That evening was the first of many thus spent as the years rolled by; imexpected little courtesies came from the White House, and later from "Spiegel Grove"; a constant and unflagging interest followed each under- taking on which the boy embarked. Opportunities were opened to him; acquaintances were made possible; 34 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK a letter came almost every month until that last little note, late in 1892 : L/f t^*.. tiyirtbfC^ ''^ /^n,^- ^t^ t^ e,,^ a.U TZt^ »^,-^ tl /feu/ a moment, and then, turning to the boy with a little moisture in his eye, he said: "No, my boy, I am not; but it does an old man's heart good to hear you say it. It means much to those on the down-hill side to be well thought of by the young who are coming up." As he wiped his gold pen, with its swan-quill holder, and laid it down, he said: "That's the pen with which I wrote 'Elsie Venner' and the 'Autocrat' papers. I try to take care of it." "You say you are going from me over to see Long- fellow?" he continued, as he reached out once more for the pen. "WeU, then, would you mind if I gave you a letter for him? I have something to send him." Sly but kindly old gentleman! The "something" he had to send Longfellow was Edward himself, although the boy did not see through the subterfuge at that time. "And now, if you are going, I'll walk along with you 40 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK if you don't mind, for I'm going down to Park Street to thank my publishers for these little books, and that lies along your way to the Cambridge car." As the two walked along Beacon Street, Doctor Holmes pointed out the residences where lived people of interest, and when they reached the Public Garden he said: "You must come over in the spring some time, and see the tulips and croci and hyacinths here. They are so beautiful. "Now, here is your car," he said as he hailed a com- ing horse-car. "Before you go back you must come and see me and tell me aU the people you have seen; will you ? I should like to hear abcmt them. I may not have more books coming in, but I might have a very good-lookimg photograph of a very oki-lodting little man," he said as his eyes twinkled. " Give my love to Longfellow when you see him, and don't forget to give him my letter, you know. It is about a very important matter." And when the boy had ridden a mile or so with his fare in his hand he held it out to the conductor, who grhmed and said: "That's all right. Doctor Holn^s paid me your fare, and I'm going to keep that nickel if I lose my job for it." CHAPTER V GOING TO THE THEATRE WITH LONGFELLOW When Edward Bok stood before the home of Long- fellow, he realized that he was to see the man around whose head the boy's youthful reading had cast a sort of halo. And when he saw the head itself he had a feeling that he could see the halo. No kindlier pair of eyes ever looked at a boy, as, with a smile, "the white Mr. Longfellow," as Mr. Howells had called him, held out his hand. "I am very glad to see you, my boy," were his first words, and with them he won the boy. Edward smiled back at the poet, and immediately the two were friends. "I have been taking a walk this beautiful morning," he said next, "and am a little late getting at my mail. Suppose you come in and sit at my desk with me, and we will see what the postman has brought. He brings me so many good things, you know." "Now, here is a little girl," he said, as he sat down at the desk with the boy beside Mm, "who wants my au- tograph and a 'sentiment.' What sentiment, I wonder, shall I send her?" "Why not send her 'Let us, then, be up and doing' ? " suggested the boy. "That's what I should Eke if I were she." "Should you, indeed?" said Longfellow. "That is a good suggestion. Now, suppose you recite it off to me, 4t 42 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK SO that I shall not have to look it up in my books, and I will write as you recite. But slowly; you know I am an old man, and write slowly." Edward thought it strange that Longfellow himself should not know his own great words without looking them up. But he recited the four lines, so familiar to every schoolboy, and when the poet had finished writ- ing them, he said: " Good ! I see you have a memory. Now, suppose I copy these lines once more for the little girl, and give you this copy ? Then you can say, you know, that you dictated my own poetry to me." Of course Edward was delighted, and Longfellow gave him the sheet as it is here: Then, as the fine head bent down to copy the lines once more, Edward ventured to say to him: "1 should think it would keep you busy if you did this for every one who asked you." "Well," said the poet, "you see, I am not so busy a man as I was some years ago, and I shouldn't like to disappoint a Uttle girl; should you?" As he took up his letters again, he discovered five TO THE THEATRE WITH LONGFELLOW 43 more requests for his autograph. At each one he reached into a drawer in his desk, took a card, and wrote his name on it. "There are a good many of these every day," said Longfellow, "but I always like to do this little favor. It is so little to do, to write your name on a card; and if I didn't do it some boy or girl might be looking, day by day, for the postman and be disappointed. I only wish I could writb my name better for them. You see how I break my letters ? That's because I never took pains with my writing when I was a boy. I don't think I should get a high mark for penmanship if I were at school, do you?" "I see you get letters from Europe," said the boy, as Longfellow opened an envelope with a foreign stamp on it. "Yes, from all over the world," said the poet. Then, looking at the boy quickly, he said: "Do you collect postage-stamps ? " Edward said he did. "Well, I have some right here, then," and going to a drawer in a desk he took out a bundle of letters, and cut out the postage-stamps and gave them to the boy. "There's one from the Netherlands. There's where I was born," Edward ventured to say. "In the Netherlands? Then you are a real Dutch- man. Well! Well!" he said, laying down his pen. "Can you read Dutch?" The boy said he could. "Then," said the poet, "you are just the boy I am looking for." And going to a bookcase behind him he 44 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK brought out a book, and handing it to the boy, he said, his eyes laughing: "Can you read that?" It was an edition of Longfellow's poems in Dutch. "Yes, indeed," said Edward. "These are your poems in Dutch." "That's right," he said. "Now, this is dehghtful. I am so glad you came. I received this book last week, and although I have been in the Netherlands, I cannot speak or read Dutch. I wonder whether you would read a poem to me and let me hear how it sounds." So Edward took "The Old Clock on the Stairs," and read it to him. The poet's face beamed with dehght. "That's beau- tiful," he said, and then quickly added: "I mean the language, not the poem." "Now," he went on, "I'll tell you what we'll do: we'll strike a bargain. We Yankees are great for bar- gains, you know. If you will read me 'The Village Blacksmith' you can sit in that chair there made out of the wood of the old spreading chestnut-tree, and I'll take you out and show you where the old shop stood. Is that a bargain?" Edward assured him it was. He sat in the chair of wood and leather, and read to the poet several of his own poems in a language in which, when he wrote them, he never dreamed they would ever be printed. He was very quiet. Finally he said: "It seems so odd, so very odd, to hear something you know so well sound so strange." "It's a great compKment, thous:h, isn't it, sir?" asked the boy. TO THE THEATRE WITH LONGFELLOW 45 "Ye-es," said the poet slowly. "Yes, yes," he added quickly. "It is, my boy, a very great compliment." "Ah," he said, rousing himself, as a maid appeared, "that means luncheon, or rather," he added, "it means dinner, for we have dinner in the old New England fashion, in the middle of the day. I am all alone to- day, and you must keep me company; will you? Then afterward we'll go and take a walk, and I'll show you Cambridge. It is such a beautiful old town, even more beautifid, I sometimes think, when the leaves are off the trees. "Come," he said, "I'll take you up-stairs, and you can wash your hands in the room where George Washing- ton slept. And comb your hair, too, if you want to," he added; "only it isn't the same comb that he used." To the boyish mind it was an historic breaking of bread, that midday meal with Longfellow. "Can you say grace in Dutch?" he asked, as they sat down; and the boy did. "Well," the poet declared, "I never expected to hear that at my table, I like the sound of it." Then while the boy told all that he knew about the Netherlands, the poet told the boy all about his poems. Edward said he liked "Hiawatha." "So do I," he said. "But I think I like 'Evangeline' better. Still," he added, "neither one is as good as it should be. But those are the things you see afterward so much better than you do at the time," It was a great event for Edward when, with the poet nodding and smiling to every boy and man he met, and lifting his hat to every woman and Uttle girl, he walked 46 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK through the fine old streets of Cambridge with Long- fellow. At one point of the walk they came to a the- atrical bill-board announcing an attraction that evening at the Boston Theatre. Skilfully the old poet drew out from Edward that sometimes he went to the theatre with his parents. As they returned to the gate of "Craigie House" Edward said he thought he would go back to Boston. "And what have you on hand for this evening?" asked Longfellow. Edward told him he was going to his hotel to think over the day's events. The poet laughed and said: "Now, listen to my plan. Boston is strange to you. Now we're going to the theatre this evening, and my plan is that you come in now, have a little supper with us, and then go with us to see the play. It is a funny play, and a good laugh will do you more good than to sit in a hotel aU by yourself. Now, what do you think ? " Of course the boy thought as Longfellow did, and it was a very happy boy that evening who, in full view of the large audience in the immense theatre, sat in that box. It was, as Longfellow had said, a play of laughter, and just who laughed louder, the poet or the boy, neither ever knew. Between the acts there came into the box a man of courtly presence, dignified and yet gently courteous. "Ah! PhilUps," said the poet, "how are you? You must know my young friend here. This is Wendell Phillips, my boy. Here is a young man who told me to-day that he was going to call on you and on Phillips TO THE THEATRE WITH LONGFELLOW 47 Brooks to-morrow. Now you know him before he comes to you," "I shall be glad to see you, my boy," said Mr. Phil- lips. "And so you are going to see Phillips Brooks? Let me tell you something about Brooks. He has a great many books in his library which are full of his marks and comments. Now, when you go to see him you ask him to let you see some of those bookg, and then, when he isn't looking, you put a couple of them in your pocket. They would make splendid souvenirs, and he has so many he would never miss them. You do it, and then when you come to see me tell me all about it." And he and Longfellow smiled broadly. An hour later, when Longfellow dropped Edward at his hotel, he had not only a wonderful day to think over but another wonderful day to look forward to as well ! He had breakfasted with Oliver Wendell Holmes; dined, supped, and been to the theatre with Longfellow; and to-morrow he was to spend with Phillips Brooks. Boston was a great place, Edward Bok thought, as he fell asleep. CHAPTER VI PBILOPS BROOKS'S BOOKS AND EMERSON'S MENTAL MIST No one who called at Phillips Brooks's house was ever told that the master of the house was out when he was in. That was a rule laid down by Doctor Brooks: a maid was not to perjure herself for her master's com- fort or convenience. Therefore, when Edward was told that Doctor Brooks was out, he knew he was out. The boy waited, and as he waited he had a chance to look around the library and into the books. The rec- tor's faithful housekeeper said he might when he re- peated what Wendell Phillips had told him of the in- terest that was to be found in her master's books. Edward did not tell her of Mr. Phillips's advice to "bor- row" a couple of bodks. He reserved that bit of in- formation for the rector of Trinity when he came in, an hour later. "Oh! did he?" laughingly said Doctor Brooks. "That is nice advice for a man to give a boy. I am surprised at Wendell Phillips. He needs a Httle talk: a ministerial visit. And have you followed his shame- less advice ? " smilingly asked the huge man as he towered above the boy. "No? And to think of the oppor- tunity you had, too. Well, I am glad you had such respect for my dumb friends. For they are my friends, 48 PHILLIPS BROOKS'S BOOKS 49 each one of them," he continued, as he looked fondly at the filled shelves. "Yes, I know them all, and love each for its own sake. Take this little volume," and he picked up a little volume of Shakespeare. "Why, we are the best of friends: we have travelled miles together — all over the world, as a matter of fact. It knows me in all my moods, and responds to each, no matter how irritable I am. Yes, it is pretty badly marked up now, for a fact, isn't it? Black; I never thought of that before that it doesn't make a book look any better to the eye. But it means more to me because of all that pencilling. "Now, some folks dislike my use of my books in this way. They love their books so much that they think it nothing short of sacrilege to mark up a book. But to me that's like having a child so prettUy dressed that you can't romp and play with it. What is the good of a book, I say, if it is too pretty for use? I like to have my books speak to me, and then I like to talk back to them. "Take my Bible, here," he continued, as he took up an old and much-worn copy of the book. "I have a number of copies of the Great Book: one copy I preach from; another I minister from; but this is my own per- sonal copy, and into it I talk and talk. See how I talk," and he opened the Book and showed interleaved pages full of comments in his handwritiaaig. "There's where St. Paul and I had an argument one day. Yes, it was a long argument, and I don't know now who won," he added smilingly. "But then, no one ever wins in an argument, anyway.; do you think so ? 50 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK "You see," went on the preacher, "I put into these books what other men put into articles and essays for magazines and papers. I never write for publications. I always think of my church when something comes to me to say. There is always danger of a man spread- ing himself out thin if he attempts too much, you know." Doctor Brooks must have caught the boy's eye, which, as he said this, naturally surveyed his great frame, for he regarded him in an amused way, and putting his hands on his girth, he said laughingly: "You are thinking I would have to do a great deal to spread myself out thin, aren't you?" The boy confessed he was, and the preacher laughed one of those deep laughs of his that were so infec- tious. "But here I am talking about myself. Tell me some- thing about yourself?" And when the boy told his object in coming to Bos- ton, the rector of Trinity Church was immensely amused. "Just to see us fellows! Well, and how do you like us so far?" And in the most comfortable way this true gentle- man went on until the boy mentioned that he must be keeping him from his work. "Not at all; not at all," was the quick and hearty response. "Not a thing to do. I cleaned up aU my mail before I had my breakfast this morning. "These letters, you mean?" he said, as the boy pointed to some letters on his desk unopened. "Oh, PHILLIPS BROOKS'S BOOKS 51 yes ! Well, they must have come in a later mail. Well, if it will make you feel any better I'll go through them, and you can go through my books if you like. I'll trust you," he added laughingly, as Wendell Phillips's advice occurred to him. "You like books, you say?" he went on, as he opened his letters. "Well, then, you must come into my library here at any time you are in Boston, and spend a morning reading anything I have that you Uke. Young men do that, you know, and I Uke to have them. What's the use of good friends if you don't share them ? There's where the pleasure comes in." He asked the boy then about his newspaper work: how much it paid him, and whether he felt it helped him in an educational way. The boy told him he thought it did; that it furnished good lessons in the study of hu- man nature. "Yes," he said, "I can believe that, so long as it is good journalism." Edward told him that he sometimes wrote for the Sunday paper, and asked the preacher what he thought of that. "Well," he said, "that is not a crime." The boy asked him if he, then, favored the Sunday paper more than did some other clergymen. "There is always good in everything, I think," re- plied Phillips Brooks. "A thing must be pretty bad that hasn't some good in it." Then he stopped, and after a moment went on: "My idea is that the fate of Sunday newspapers rests very much with Sunday edi- P^TS. There is a Sunday newspaper conceivable in 52 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK which we should all rejoice — all, that is, who do not hold that a Sunday newspaper is always and per se wrong. But some cause has, in many instances, brought it about that the Sunday paper is below, and not above, the standard of its weekday brethren. I mean it is apt to be more gossipy, more personal, more sensational, more frivolous; less serious and thoughtful and suggestive. Taking for granted the fact of special leisure on the part of its readers, it is apt to appeal to the lower and not to the higher part of them, which the Sunday leisure has set free. Let the Sunday newspaper be worthy of the day, and the day will not reject it. So I say its fate is in the hands of its editor. He can give it such a character as will make all good men its cham- pions and friends, or he can preserve for it the suspicion and dislike in which it stands at present." Edward's journalistic instinct here got into full play; and although, as he assured his host, he had had no such thought in coming, he asked whether Doctor Brooks would object if he tried his reportorial wings by experi- mentmg as to whether he could report the talk. "I do not like the papers to talk about me," was the answer; "but if it wiU help you, go ahead and practise on me. You haven't stolen my books when you were told to do so, and I don't think you'll steal my name." The boy went back to his hotel, and wrote an article much as this accoimt is here written, which he sent to Doctor Brooks. "Let me keep it by me," the doctor wrote, "and I will return it to you presently." And he did, with his comment on the Sunday news- paper, just as it is given here, and with this note: PHILLIPS BROOKS'S BOOKS 53 *^ t^/i^v^ 4!SE.^Sor«^ OTii.'e^^ /&Mi. AjgLAf^y ^£«~» Ak-euLO' Z&tO^ /Hoa^' As he let the boy out of his house, at the end of that first meetmg, he said to him: "And you're going from me now to see Emerson? I don't know," he added reflectively, "whether you will see him at his best. Still, you may. And even if you do not, to have seen him, even as you may see him, is better, in a way, than not to have seen him at all." Edward did not know what Phillips Brooks meant. But he was, sadly, to find out the next day. 54 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK A boy of sixteen was pretty sure of a welcome from Louisa Alcott, and his greeting from her was spontane- ous and sincere. "Why, you good boy," she said, "to come all the way to Concord to see us," quite for all the world as if she were the one favored. "Now take your coat off, and come right in by the fire." "Do teU me aU about your visit," she continued. Before that cosey fire they chatted. It was pleasant to the boy to sit there with that sweet-faced woman with those kindly eyes! After a while she said: "Now I shall put on my coat and hat, and we shall walk over to Emerson's house. I am almost afraid to promise that you will see him. He sees scarcely any one now. He is feeble, and—" She did not finish the sentence. "But we'll walk over there, at any rate." She spoke mostly of her fa;ther as the two walked along, and it was easy to see that his condition was now the one thought of her life. Presently they reached Emerson's house, and Miss Emerson welcomed them at the door. After a brief chat Miss Alcott told of the boy's hope. Miss Emerson shook her head. "Father sees no one now," she said, "and I fear it might not be a pleasure if you did see him." Then Edward told her what Phillips Brooks had said. "WeU," she said, "I'll see." She had scarcely left the room when Miss Alcott rose and followed her, saying to the boy: "You shall see Mr. Emerson if it is at aU possible." In a few minutes Miss Alcott returned, her eyes moistened, and simply said: "Come." EMERSON'S MENTAL MIST 55 The boy followed her through two rooms, and at the threshold of the third Miss Emerson stood, also with moistened eyes. "Father," she said simply, and there, at his desk, sat Emerson^-the man whose words had already won Ed- ward Bok's boyish interest, and who was destined to impress himself upon his life more deeply than any other writer. Slowly, at the daughter's spoken word, Emerson rose with a wonderful quiet dignity, extended his hand, and as the boy's hand rested in his, looked him full in the eyes. No light of welcome came from those sad yet tender eyes. The boy closed upon the hand in his with a lov- ing pressure, and for a single moment the eyelids rose, a different look came into those eyes, and Edward felt a shght, perceptible response of the hand. But that was aU! Quietly he motioned the boy to a chair beside the desk. Edward sat down and was about to say some- thing, when, instead of seating himself, Emerson walked away to the window and stood there softly whistling and looking out as if there were no one in the room. Edward's eyes had followed Emerson's every footstep, when the boy was aroused by hearing a suppressed sob, and as he looked around he saw that it came from Miss Emerson. Slowly she walked out of the room. The boy looked at Miss Alcott, and she put her finger to her mouth, indicating silence. He was nonplussed. Edward looked toward Emerson standing in that window, and wondered what it all meant. Presently Emerson left the window and, crossing the room, came 56 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK to his desk, bowing to the boy as he passed, and seatjed at the Western Union Building, at 195 Broadway, and the habit resulted in the installation of a private office there. He borrowed Edward to do his stenography. Th« boy found himself taking not only letters from Mr. Gould's dctation, but, what interested him particulariy, the financier's orders to buy and sell stock. Edward watched the effects on the stock-market of these little notes which he wrote out and then shot through a pneumatic tube to Mr. Gould's brokers. Naturally, the results enthralled the boy, and he told Mr. Gary about his discoveries. This, in turn, inter- ested Mr. Gary; Mr. Gould's dictations were frequently given in Mr. Gary's own office, where, as his desk was not ten feet from that of his stenographer, the attorney heard them, and began to buy and seU according to the magnate's decisions. Edward had now become tremendously interested in the stock game which he saw constantly played by the great financier; and having a little money saved up, 70 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK he concluded that he would follow in the wake of Mr. Gould's orders. One day, he naively mentioned his desire to Mr. Gould, when the financier seemed in a particularly favorable frame of mind; but Edward did not succeed in drawing out the advice he hoped for. "At least," reasoned Edward, "he knew of my intention; and if he considered it a violation of confidence he would have said as much." Construing the financier's silence to mean at least not a prohibition, Edward went to his Simday-school teacher, who was a member of a Wall Street brokerage firm, laid the facts before him, and asked him if he would buy for him some Western Union stock. Edward explained, however, that somehow he did not like the gambling idea of buying "on margin," and preferred to purchase the stock outright. He was shown that this would mean smaller profits; but the boy had in mind the loss of his father's fortune, brought about largely by "stock margins," and he did not intend to follow that example. So, prudently, under the brokerage of his Sunday-school teacher, and guided by the tips of no less a man than the controlling factor of stock-market finance, Edward Bok took his first plunge in Wall Street ! Of course the boy's buying and selling tallied pre- cisely with the rise and fall of Western Union stods. It could scarcely have been otherwise. Jay Gould had the cards all in his hands; and as he bought and sold, so Edward bought and sold. The trouble was, the com- bination did not end there, as Edward might have foreseen had he been older and thus wiser. For as Edward bought and sold, so did his Sunday-school A PLUNGE INTO WALL STREET 71 teacker, and all his customers who had seen the won- derful acumen of their broker in choosing exactly the right time to buy and sdl Western Union. But Ed- ward did not know this. One day a rumor became current on the Street that an agreement had been reached by the Western Union Company and its bitter rival, the American Union Telegraph Company, whereby the former was to ab- sorb the latter. Naturally, the report affected Western Union stock. But Mr. Gould denied it in toto; said the report was not true, no such consoKdation was in view or had even been considered. Down tumbled the stock, of course. But it so happened that Edward knew the rumor was true, because Mr. Gould, some time before, had personally given him the contract of consolidation to copy. The next day a rumor to the effect that the American Union was to absorb the Western Union ap- peared on the first page of every New York new^aper. Edward knew exactly whence this rumor emanated. He had heard it talked over. Agsdn, Western Union stock dropped several points. Then he noticed that Mr. Gould became a heavy buyer. So became Ed- ward-'-as heavy as he could. Jay Gould pooh-poohed the latest rumor. Tlae boy awaited developments. On Sunday afternoon, Edward's Sunday-school teacher asked the boy to walk home with him, and on reaching the house took him into the study and asked him whether he felt justified in putting all his savings in Western Union just at that time when the price was tumbling so fast and the market was so unsteady. Edward as- 72 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK sured his teacher that he was right, although he explained that he could not disclose the basis of his assurance. Edward thought his teacher looked worried, and after a Uttle there came the revelation that he, seeing that Edward was buying to his Umit, had likewise done so. But the broker had bought on margin, and had his margin wiped out by the decline in the stock caused by the rumors. He explained to Edward that he coidd recoup his losses, heavy though they were — in fact, he explained that nearly everything he possessed was in- volved — ^if Edward's basis was sure and the stock would recover, Edward keenly felt the responsibility placed upon him. He could never clearly diagnose his feelings when he saw his teacher in this new light. The broker's "customers" had been hinted at, and the boy of eighteen wondered how far his responsibihty went, and how many persons were involved. But the deal came out all right, for when, three days afterward, the contract was made public. Western Union, of course, skyrocketed, Jay Gould sold out, Edward sold out, the teacher- broker sold out, and all the customers sold out ! How long a string it was Edward never discovered, but he determined there and then to end his Wall Street experience; his original amount had multiplied; he was content to let well enough alone, and from that day to this Edward Bok has kept out of Wall Street. He had seen enough of its manipulations; and, although on "the inside," he decided that the combination of his teacher and his customers was a responsibility too great for him to carry. A PLUNGE INTO WALL STREET 73 Furthermore, Edward decided to leave the Western Union. The longer he remained, the less he liked its atmosphere. And the closer his contact with Jay Gould the more doubtful he became of the wisdom of such an association and perhaps its unconscious influ- ence upon his own life in its formative period. In fact, it was an experience with Mr. Gould that definitely fixed Edward's determination. The financier decided one Saturday to leave on a railroad inspection tour on the following Monday. It was necessary that a special meeting of one of his railroad interests should be held before his departure, and he fixed the meeting for Sunday at el even- thirty at his residence on Fifth Avenue. He asked Edward to be there to take the notes of the meeting. The meeting was protracted, and at one o'clock Mr. Gould suggested an adjournment for luncheon, the meet- ing to reconvene at two. Turning to Edward, the financier said: "You may go out to luncheon and return in an hour." So, on Sunday afternoon, with the Windsor Hotel on the opposite corner as the only visible place to get something to eat, but where he could not afford to go, Edward, with just fifteen cents in his pocket, was turned out to find a luncheon place. He bought three apples for five cents — aU that he could afford to spend, and even this meant that he must walk home from the ferry to his house in Brooklyn — and these he ate as he walked up and down Fifth Avenue until his hour was over. When the meeting ended at three o'clock, Mr. Gould said that, as he was leaving for the West early next morning, he would like Edward 74 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK to write out his notes, and have them at his house by eight o'clock. There were over forty note-book pages of minutes. The remainder of Edward's Sunday after- noon and evening was spent in transcribing the notes. By rising at half past five the next morning he reached Mr. Gould's house at a quarter to eight, handed him the minutes, and was dismissed without so much as a word of thanks or a nod of approval from the finan- cier. Edward felt that this exceeded the limit of fair treat- ment by employer of employee. He spoke of it to Mr. Gary, and asked whether he would object if he tried to get away from such influence and secure another posi- tion. His employer asked the boy in which direction he would like to go, and Edward imhesitatingly suggested the publishing business. He talked it over from every angle with his employer, and Mr; Gary not only agreed with him that his decision was wise, but promised to find him a position such as he had in mind. It was not long before Mr. Gary made good his word, and told Edward that his friend Henry Holt, the pub- lisher, would like to give him a trial. The day before he was to leave the Western Union Telegraph Gompany the fact of his resignation became known to Mr. Gould. The financier told the boy there was no reason for his leaving, and that he woxild per- sonally see to it that a substantial increase was made in his salary, Edward explained that the salary, while of importance to him, did not influence him so much as securing a position ia a business in which he felt he would be happier. A PLUNGE INTO WALL STREET 75 "And what business is that?" asked the financier. "The pubhshing of books," replied the boy. "You are making a great mistake," answered the lit- tle man, fixing his keen gray eyes on the boy. "Books are a luxury. The public spends its largest money on necessities: on what it can't do without. It must tele- graph; it need not read. It can read in libraries. A promising boy such as you are, with his life before him, shotdd choose the right sort of business, not the wrong one." But, as facts proved, the "Kttle wizard of Wall Street" was wrong in his prediction; Edward Bok was not choosing the wrong business. Years afterward when Edward was cruising up the Hudson with a yachting party one Saturday afternoon, the sight of Jay Gould's mansion, upon approaching Irvington, awakened the desire of the women on board to see his wonderful orchid collection. Edward ex- plained his previous association with the financier and offered to recall himself to him, if the party wished to take the chance of recognition. A note was written to Mr. Gould, and sent ashore, and the answer came back that they were welcome to visit the orchid houses. Jay Gould, in person, received the party, and, placing it under the personal conduct of his gardener, turned to Edward and, indicating a bench, said: "Come and sit down here with me." "Well," said the financier, who was in his domestic mood, quite diff^ait from his Wall Street aspect, "I see in the papers that you seem to be making your way in the publishing business." 76 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK Edward expressed surprise that the Wall Street mag- nate had followed his work. "I have because I always felt you had it in you to iDake a successful man. But not in that business," he added quickly. "You were born for the Street. You would have made a great success there, and that is what I had in mind for you. In the pubUshing business you wiU go just so far; in the Street you could have gone as far as you hked. There is room there; there is none in the publishing business. It's not too late now, for that matter," continued the "little wizard," fastening his steel eyes on the lad beside him ! And Edward Bok has often speculated whither Jay Gould might have led him. To many a yoimg man, a suggestion from such a source would have seemed the one to heed and follow. But Edward Bok's instinct nevei failed him. He felt that his path lay far apart from that of Jay Gould — and the farther the better ! In 1882 Edward, with a feeling of distinct relief, left the employ of the Western Union Telegraph Company and associated himself with the publishing business in which he had correctly divined that his future lay. His chief regret on leaving his position was in sever- ing the close relations, almost as of father and son, be- tween Mr. Gary and himself. When Edward was left alone, with the passing away of his father, Clarence Gary had put his sheltering arm around the lonely boy, and with the tremendous encouragement of the phrase that the boy never forgot, "I think you have it in you, Edward, to make a successful man," he took him under his wing. It was a turning-point in Edward Bok's A PLUNGE INTO WALL STREET 77 life, as he felt at the time and as he saw more clearly afterward. He remained in touch with his friend, however, keep- ing him advised of his progress in everything he did, not- only at that time, but aU through his later years. And it was given to Edward to feel the deep satisfaction of having Mr. Gary say, before he passed away, that the boy had more than justified the confidence rq)osed in him. Mr. Gary lived to see him well on his way, until, indeed, Edward had had the proud happiness of intro- ducing to his benefactor the son who bore his name, Gary William Bok. CHAPTER VIII STARTING A NEWSPAPER SYNDICATE Edward felt that his daytime hours, spent in a pub- lishing atmosphere as stenographer vsdth Henry Holt and Company, were more in line with his editorial duties during the evenings. The Brooklyn Magazine was now earning a comfortable income for its two young pro- prietors, and their backers were entirely satisfied with the way it was being conducted. In fact, one of these backers, Mr. Rufus T. Bush, associated with the Standard Oil Company, who became especially inter- ested, thought he saw in the success of the two boys a possible opening for one of his sons, who w^s shortly to be graduated from college. He talked to the pub- lisher and editor about the idea, but the boys showed by their books that while there was a reasonable income for them, not wholly dependent on the magazine, there was no room for a third. Mr. Bush now suggested that he buy the magazine for his son, alter its name, enlarge its scope, and make of it a national periodical. Arrangements were concluded, those who had financially backed the venture were fuUy paid, and the two boys received a satisfactory amount for their work in building up the magazine. Mr. Bush asked Edward to suggest a name for the new periodical, and in the following month of May, 1887, The Brooklyn Magazine became The American Maga- 78 STARTING A NEWSPAPER SYNDICATE 79 zine, with its publication ofl&ce in New York. But, though a great deal of money was spent on the new magazine, it did not succeed. Mr. Bush sold his in- terest in the periodical, which, once more changing its name, became The Cosmopolitan Magazine. Since then it has passed through the hands of several owners, but the name has remained the same. Before Mr. Bush sold The American Magazine he had urged Edward to come back to it as its editor, with promise of financial sup- port; but the yoimg man felt instinctively that his return would not be wise. The magazine had been The Cos- mopolitan only a short time when the new owners, Mr. Paul J. Slicht and Mr. E. D. Walker, also solicited the previous editor to accept reappointment. But Edward, feeling that his baby had been rechristened too often for him to father it again, declined the proposition. He had not heard the last of it, however, for, by a curious coincidence, its subsequent owner, entirely ignorant of Edward's previous association with the magazine, in- vited him to connect himself with it. Thus three times could Edward Bok have returned to the magazine for whose creation he was responsible. Edward was now without editorial cares; but he had already, even before disposing of the magazine, embarked on another line of endeavor. In sending to a number of newspapers the advance sheets of a particularly strik- ing "feature" in one of his numbers of The Brooklyn Magazine, it occurred to him that he was furnishing a good deal of valuable material to these papers without cost. It is true his magazine was receiving the adver- tising value of editorial comment; but the boy wondered 8o THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK whether the newspapers woiild not be willing to pay for the privilege of simultaneous publication. An inquiry or two proved that they would. Thus Edward stumbled upon the "syndicate" plan of furnishing the same ar- ticle to a group of newspapers, one in each city, for simultaneous publication. He looked over the groimd, and foimd that while his idea was not a new one, since two "syndicate" agencies already existed, the field was by no means fully covered, and that the success of a third agency would depend entirely upon its ability to furnish the newspapers with material equally good or better than they received from the others. After fol- lowing the material furnished by these agencies for two or three wedis, Edward decided that there was plenty of room for his new ideas. He discussed the matter with his former magazine partner, Colver, and suggested that if they could induce Mr. Beecher to write a weekly comment on current events for the newspapers it would make an auspidous beginning. They decided to talk it over with the fa- mous preacher. For to be a "Plymouth boy" — that is, to go to the Plymouth Church Simday-school and to attend church there — ^was to know personally and be- come devoted to Henry Ward Beecher. And the two were synon)rmous. There was no distance between Mr. Beecher and his "Plymouth boys." Each understood the other. The tie was that of absolute comradeship. "I don't believe in it, boys," said Mr. Beecher when Edward and his friend broached the S3mdicate letter to him. "No one yet ever made a cent out of my sup- posed Uterary work." STARTING A NEWSPAPER SYNDICATE 8i All the more reason, was the argument, why some one should. Mr. Beecher smiled ! How well he knew the youthful enthusiasm that rushes in, etc. "Well, aU right, boys ! I like your pluck," he finally said. "I'U help you if I can." The boys agreed to pay Mr. Beecher a weekly sum of two hundred and fifty dollars — which he knew was con- siderable for them. When the first article had been written they took him their first check. He looked at it qiiizzically, and then at the boys. Then he said simply: "Thank you." He took a pin and pinned the check to his desk. There it remained, much to the curiosity of the two boys. The following week he had written the second article and the boys gave him another check. He pinned that up over the other. " I Hke to look at them," was his only explanation, as he saw Edward's inquiring glance one morning. The third check was treated the same way. When the boys handed him the fourth, one morning, as he was pinning it up over the others, he asked: "When do you get your money from the newspapers?" He was told that the bills were going out that morning for the four letters constituting a month's service. "I see," he remarked. A fortnight passed, then one day Mr. Beecher asked: "Well, how are the checks coming in?" "Very well," he was assured. "Suppose you let me see how much you've got in," he suggested, and the boys brought the accoimts to him. 82 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK After looking at them he said: "That's very interest- ing. How much have you in the bank?" He was told the balance, less the checks given to him. "But I haven't turned them in yet," he explained. "Anyhow, you have enough in bank to meet the checks you have given me, and a profit besides, haven't you?" He was assured they had. Then, taking his bank-book from a drawer, he im- pinned the six checks on his desk, indorsed each thus: 9kz^i^ wrote a deposit-slip, and, handing the book to Edward, said: "Just hand that in at the bank as you go by, will you?" Edward was very young then, and Mr. Beecher's methods of financiering seemed to him quite in line with current notions of the Plymouth pastor's lack of busi- ness knowledge. But as the years rolled on the incident appeared in a new light— a striking example of the great preacher's wonderful considerateness. Edward had offered to help Mr. Beecher with his cor- respondence; at the close of one afternoon, while he was with the Plymouth pastor at work, an organ-grinder and a little girl came under the study window. A cold, driving rain was pelting down. In a moment Mr. STARTING A NEWSPAPER SYNDICATE 83 Beecher noticed the girl's bare toes sticking out of her worn shoes. He got up, went into the hall, and called for one of his granddaughters. "Got any good, strong rain boots?" he asked when she appeared. "Why, yes, grandfather. Why?" was the answer. "More than one pair?" Mr. Beecher asked. "Yes, two or three, I think." "Bring me your strongest pair, wiU you, dear?" he asked. And as the girl looked at him with surprise he said: "Just one of my notions." "Now, just bring that child into the house and put them on her feet for me, will you?" he said when the shoes came. "I'll be able to work so much better." One rainy day, as Edward was coming up from Ful- ton Ferry with Mr. Beecher, they met an old woman soaked with the rain. "Here, you take this, my good woman," said the clergyman, putting his umbrella over her head and thrusting the handle into the astonished woman's hand. "Let's get into this," he said to Ed- ward simply, as he hailed a passing car. "There is a good deal of fraud about beggars," he re- marked as he waved a sot away from him one day; "but that doesn't apply to women and children," he added; and he never passed such mendicants without stopping. AU the stories about their being tools in the hands of accompUces failed to convince him. "They're women and children," he would say, and that settled it for him. "What's the matter, son? Stuck?" he said once to 84 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK a newsboy who was crying with a heavy bundle of papers under his arm. "Come along with me, then," said Mr. Beecher, tak- ing the boy's hand and leading him into the newspaper office a few doors up the street. "This boy is stuck," he simply said to the man be- hind the coimter. "Guess The Eagle can stand it better than this boy; don't you think so?" To the grown man Mr. Beecher rarely gave charity. He believed in a return for his alms. "Why don't you go to work?" he asked of a man who approached him one day in the street. "Can't find any," said the man. "Looked hard for it?" was the next question. "I have," and the man looked Mr. Beecher in the eye. "Want some?" asked Mr. Beecher. "I do," said the man. "Come with me," said the preacher. And then to Edward, as they walked along with the man following behind, he added: "That man is honest." "Let this man sweep out the church," he said to the sexton when they had reached Pljmaouth Church. "But, Mr. Beecher," repUed the sexton with wounded pride, "it doesn't need it." "Don't teU him so, though," said Mr. Beecher with a merry twinkle of the eye; and the sexton imderstood. Mr. Beecher was constantly thoughtful of a struggling yoxmg man's welfare, even at the expense of his own material comfort. Anxious to save him from the labor of writing out the newspaper articles, Edward, himself STARTING A NEWSPAPER SYNDICATE 85 employed during the daylight hours which Mr. Beecher preferred for his original work, suggested a stenographer. The idea appealed to Mr. Beecher, for he was very busy just then. He hesitated, but as Edward persisted, he said: "AU right; let him come to-morrow." The next day he said: "I asked that stenographer friend of yours not to come again. No use of my trying to dictate. I am too old to learn new tricks. Much easier for me to write myself." Shortly after that, however, Mr. Beecher dictated to Edward some material for a book he was writing. Ed- ward naturally wondered at this, and asked the stenog- rapher what had happened. "Nothing," he said. "Only Mr. Beecher asked me how much it would cost you to have me come to him each week. I told him, and then he sent me away." That was Henry Ward Beecher ! Edward Bok was in the formative period between boyhood and young manhood when impressions meant lessons, and associations meant ideals. Mr. Beecher never disappointed. The closer one got to him, the greater he became — ^in striking contrast to most pubhc men, as Edward had already learned. Then, his interests and sympathies were enormously wide. He took in so much! One day Edward was walking past Fulton Market, in New York City, with Mr. Beecher. "Never skirt a market," the latter said; "always go through it. It's the next best thing, in the winter, to going South." 86 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK Of course all the marketmen knew him, and they knew, too, his love for green things. "What do you think of these apples, Mr. Beecher?" one marketman would stop to ask. Mr. Beecher would answer heartily: "Fine! Don't see how you grow them. All that my trees bear is a crop of scale. Still, the blossoms are beautiful in the spring, and I like an apple-leaf. Ever examine one?" The marketman never had. "Well, now, do, the next time you come across an apple-tree in the spring." And thus he would spread abroad an interest in the beauties of nature which were commonly passed over. "Wonderful man, Beecher is," said a market dealer in green goods once. "I had handled thousands of bunches of celery in my life and never noticed how beau- tiful its top leaves were until he picked up a bunch once and told me all about it. Now I haven't the heart to cut the leaves off when a customer asks me." His idea of his own vegetable-gardening at Boscobel, his PeekskiU home, was very amusing. One day Edward was having a hurried dinner, preparatory to catching the New York train. Mr. Beecher sat beside the boy, telling him of some things he wished done in Brookl}^!. "No, I thank you," said Edward, as the maid offered him some potatoes. "Look here, young man," said Mr. Beecher, "don't pass those potatoes so lightly. They're of my own raising — and I reckon they cost me about a dollar a piece," he added with a twinkle in his eye. He was an education in so many ways ! One instance taught Edward the great danger of passionate speech STARTING A NEWSPAPER SYNDICATE 87 that might unconsciously wound, and the manliness of instant recognition of the error. Swayed by an oc- casion, or by the responsiveness of an audience, Mr. Beecher would sometimes say something which was not meant as it sounded. One evening, at a great poUtical meeting at Cooper Union, Mr. Beecher was at his brightest and wittiest. In the course of his remarks he had occasion to refer to ex-President Hayes; some one in the audience called out: "He was a softy!" "No," was Mr. Beecher's quick response. "The country needed a poultice at that time, and got it." "He's dead now, anyhow," responded the voice. "Not dead, my friend: he only sleepeth." It convulsed the audience, of course, and thje reporters took it down in their books. After the meeting Edward drove home with Mr. Beecher. After a while he asked: "Well, how do you think it went?" Edward replied he thought it went very well, except that he did not like the reference to ex-President Hayes. "What reference? What did I say?" Edward repeated it. "Did I say that?" he asked. Edward looked at him. Mr. Beecher's face was tense. After a few mo- ments he said: "That's generally the way with extem- poraneous remarks: they are always dangerous. The best impromptu speeches and remarks are the carefully prepared kind," he added. Edward told him he regretted the reference because he knew that General Hayes would read it in the New York papers, and he would be nonplussed tersuade Mr. Beecher to read it, or let us tell him anything about it. " 'It's folly for you to be kept in constant excitement week after week,' he would say. 'I shall wait till the work is completed, and take it all at one dose.' "After the serial ended, the book came to Mr. Beecher ASSOCIATION WITH HENRY WARD BEECHER 95 on the morning of a day when he had a meeting on hand for the afternoon and a speech to make in the evening. The book was quietly laid one side, for he always scru- pulously avoided everything that could interfere with work he was expected to do. But the next day was a free day. Mr. Beecher rose even earUer than usual, and as soon as he was dressed he began to read Uncle TonCs Cabin. When breakfast was ready he took his book with him to the table, where reading and eating went on together; but he spoke never a word. After morning prayers, he threw himself on the sofa, forgot everything but his book, and read uninterruptedly till dinner-time. Though evidently intensely interested, for a long time he controlled any marked indication of it. Before noon I knew the storm was gathering that would con- quer his self-control, as it had done with us all. He frequently 'gave way to his pocket-handkerchief,' to use one of his old humorous remarks, in a most vigorous manner. In return for his teasing me for reading the work weekly, I could not refrain from saying demurely, as I passed him once: 'You seem to have a severe cold, Henry. How could you have taken it?' But what did I gain? Not even a half -annoyed shake of the head, or the semblance of a smile. I might as well have spoken to the Sphinx. "When reminded that the dinner-bell had rung, he rose and went to the table, still with his book in his hand. He asked the blessing with a tremor in his voice, which showed the intense excitement under which he was laboring. We were alone at the table, and there was nothing to distract his thoughts. He drank his 96 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK coffee, ate but little, and returned to his reading, with no thought of indulging in his usual nap. His almost uncontrollable excitement revealed itself in frequent half-suppressed sobs. "Mr. Beecher was a very slow reader. I was getting uneasy over the marks of strong feeling and excitement, and longed to have him finish the book. I could see that he entered into the whole story, every scene, as if it were being acted right before him, and he himself were the sufiferer. He had always been a pronounced AboUtionist, and the story he was reading roused in- tensely aU he had felt on that subject. "The night came on. It was growing late, and I felt impelled to urge him to retire. Without raising his eyes from the book, he repUed: "'Soon; soon; you go; I'll come soon.* "Closing the house, I went to our room; but not to sleep. The clock struck twelve, one, two, three; and then, to my great relief, I heard Mr. Beecher coming up-stairs. As he entered, he threw Uncle Tom's Cabin on the table, exclaiming: 'There; I've done it! But if Hattie Stowe ever writes anything more like that I'U — weU ! She has nearly killed me.' "And he never picked up the book from that day." Any one who knew Henry Ward Beecher at all knew of his love of books. He was, however, most prodigal in lending his books and he always forgot the borrowers. Then when he wanted a certain volume irani his library he could not find it. He would, of course, have forgotten the borrower, but he had a unique method of tracing the book. ASSOCIATION WITH HENRY WARD BEECHER 97 One evemng the great preacher suddenly appeared at a friend's house and, quietly entering the drawing- room without removing his overcoat, he walked up to his friend and said: "Rossiter, why don't you bring back that Ruskin of mine that I lent you?" The man colored to the roots of his hair. "Why, Mr. Beecher," he said, "I'll go up-stairs and get it for you right away. I would not have kept it so long, only you told me I might." At this Beecher burst into a fit of merry laughter. "Found ! Found !" he shouted, as he took oflf his over- coat and threw himself into a chair. When he could stop laughing, he said: "You know, Rossiter, that I am always ready to lend my books to any one who wiU make good use of them and bring them back, but I always forget to whom I lend them. It happened, in this case, that I wanted that volume of Ruskin about a week ago; but when I went to the shelf for it, it was gone. I knew I must have lent it, but to whom I could not remember. During the past week, I began to demand the book of every friend I met to whom I might have lent it. Of course, every one of them pro- tested innocence; but at last I've struck the guilty man. I shall know, in future, how to find my missing books. The plan works beautifully." One evening, after supper, Mr. Beecher said to his wife: "Mother, what material have we among our papers about our early Indiana days ? " Mr. Beecher had long been importuned to write his 98 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK autobiography, and he had decided to do it after he had finished his Life of Christ. Mrs. Beecher had two boxes brought into the room. "Suppose you look into that box, if you will," said Mr. Beecher to Edward, "and I'U take this one, and we'll see what we can find about that time. Mother, you supervise and see how we look on the floor." And Mr. Beecher sat down on the floor in front of one box, shoemaker-fashion, while Edward, likewise on the floor, started on the other box. It was a dusty job, and the Uttle room began to be filled with particles of dust which set Mrs. Beecher coughing. At last she said : " I'll leave you two to finish. I have some things to do up-stairs, and then I'U retire. Don't be too late, Henry," she said. It was one of those rare evenings for Mr. Beecher — absolutely free from interruption; and, with his memory constantly taken back to his early days, he continued in a reminiscent mood that was charmingly intimate to the boy. "Found something?" he asked at one intermission when quiet had reigned longer than usual, and he saw Edward studying a huge pile of papers. "No, sir," said the boy. "Only a lot of papers about a suit." "What suit?" asked Mr. Beecher mechanically, with his head buried in his box. "I don't know, sir," Edward rephed naively, Httle knowing what he was reopening to the preacher. " ' Til- ton versus Beecher' they are marked." Mr. Beecher said nothing, and after the boy had ASSOCIATION WITH HENRY WARD BEECHER 99 fingered the papers he chanced to look in the preacher's direction and found him watching him intently with a curiously serious look in his face. "Must have been a big suit," commented the boy. "Here's another pile of papers about it." Edward could not make out Mr. Beecher's steady look at him as he sat there on the floor mechanically playing with a paper in his hand. "Yes," he finally said, "it was a big suit. What does it mean to you ? " he asked suddenly. "To me?" Edward asked. "Nothing, sir. Why?" Mr. Beecher said nothing for a few moments, and turned to his box to examine some more papers. Then the boy asked: "Was the Beecher in this suit you, Mr. Beecher?" Again was turned on him that serious, questioning look. "Yes," he said after a bit. Then he thought again for a few moments and said: "How old were you in 1875?" "twelve," the boy replied. "Twelve," he repeated. "Twelve." He turned again to his box and Edward to his. "There doesn't seem to be anything more in this box," the boy said, "but more papers in that suit," and he began to put the papers back. "What do you know about that 'suit, ' as you call it ? " asked Mr. Beecher, stopping in his work. "Nothing," was the reply. "I never heard of it." "Never heard of it?" he repeated, and he fastened that curious look upon Edward again. It was so com- lOO THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK pelling that it held the boy. For several moments they looked at each other. Neither spoke. "That seems strange," he said, at last, as he renewed the search of his box. "Never heard of it," he repeated almost to himself. Then for fully five minutes not a word was spoken. "But you will some day," said Mr. Beecher sud- denly. "I wiU what, Mr. Beecher?" asked the boy. He had forgotten the previous remark. Mr. Beecher looked at Edward and sighed. "Hear about it," he said. "I don't think I understand you," was the reply. "No, I don't think you do," he said. "I mean, you wiU some day hear about that suit. And I don't know," then he hesitated, "but — but you might as well get it straight. You say you were twelve then," he mused. "What were you doing when you were twelve?" "Going to school," was the reply. "Yes, of course," said Mr. Beecher. "Well," he continued, turning on his haunches so that his back rested against the box, "I am going to teU you the story of that suit, and then you'll know it." Edward said nothing, and then began the recital of a story that he was destined to remember. It was inter- esting then, as Mr. Beecher progressed; but how thrice interesting that wonderful recital was to prove as the years rolled by and the boy reaUzed the wonderful tell- ing of that of all stories by Mr. Beecher himself ! Slowly, and in that wonderfully low, mellow voice that so many knew and loved, step by step, came the * ASSOCIATION WITH HENRY WARD BEECHER loi unfolding of that remarkable stoiy. Once or twice only did the voice halt, as when, after he had explained the basis of the famous suit, he said: "Those were the charges. That is what it was all about." Then he looked at Edward and asked: "Do you know just what such charges mean ? " "I think I do," Edward replied, and the question was asked with such feeling, and the answer was said so mechanicaUy, that Mr. Beecher replied simply: "Per- haps." "Well," he continued, "the suit was a 'long one,' as you said. For days and weeks, yes, for months, it went on, from January to Jidy, and those were very fuU days: full of so many things that you would hardly understand." And then he told the boy as much of the days in court as he thought he would understand, and how the lawyers worked and worked, in court all day, and up half the night, preparing for the next day. "Mostly around that Httle table there," he said, pointing to a white, marble- topped table against which the boy was leaning, and which now stands in Edward Bok's study. "Finally the end came," he said, "after — ^well, months. To some it seemed years," said Mr. Beecher, and his eyes looked tired. "Well," he continued, "the case went to the jury: the men, you know, who had to decide. There were twelve of them." " Was it necessary that all twelve should think alike ? " asked the boy. I02 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK "That was what was hoped, my boy," said Mr. Beecher— " that was what was hoped," he repeated. "Well, they did, didn't they?" Edward adted, as Mr. Beecher stopped. "Nine did," he replied. "Yes; nine did. But three didn't. Three thought — " Mr. Beecher stopped and did not finish the sentence. "But nine did," he repeated. "Nine to three it stood. That was the decidon, and then the judge disdiarged the jury," he said. There was naturally one question in the boyish mind to ask the man before him — one question! Yet, in- stinctively, something within him made him hesitate to ask that question. But at last his curiosity got the better of the still, small voice of judgment. "And, Mr. Beecher — " the boy began. But Mr. Beecher knew! He knew what was at the end of the tongue, looked clear into the boy's mind; and Edward can still see him lift that fine head and look into his eyes, as he said, slowly and clearly: "And the decision of the nine was in exact accord with the facts." He had divined the question ! As the two rose from the floor that night Edward looked at the clock. It was past midnight; Mr. Beecher had talked for two hours; the boy had spoken hardly at aU. As the boy was going out, he turned to Mr. Beedier sitting thoughtfully in his chair. "Good night, Mr. Beecher," he said. The Plymouth pastor pidled himself together, and with that wit that never forsook him he looked at the ASSOCIATION WITH HENRY WARD BEECHER 103 clock, smiled, and answered: "Good morning, I should say. God bless you, my boy." Then rising, he put his arm around the boy's shoulders and walked with him to the door. I , ^J! CHAPTER X THE FIRST "WOMAN'S PAGE," "LITERARY LEAVES," AND ENTERING SCRIBNER'S Mr. Beecher's weekly newspaper "syndicate" letter was not only successful in itself, it made liberal money for the writer and for its two young publishers, but it served to introduce Edward Bok's proposed agency to the newspapers imder the most favorable conditions. With one stroke, the attention of newspaper editors had been attracted, and Edward concluded to take quick advantage of it. He organized the Bok Syndicate Press, with ofl&ces in New York, and his brother, William J. Bok, as partner and active manager. Edward's days were occupied, of course, with his duties in the Holt publishing house, where he was acquiring a first-hand knowledge of the business. Edward's attention was now turned, for the first time, to women and their reading habits. He became interested in the fact that the American woman was not a newspaper reader. He tried to find out the psychology of this, and finally reached the conclusion, on looking over the newspapers, that the absence of any distinc- tive material for women was a factor. He talked the matter over with several prominent New York editors, who frankly acknowledged that they would like noth- ing better than to interest women, and make them readers of their papers. But they were equally frank in 104 THE FIRST "WOMAN'S PAGE" 105 confessing that they were ignorant both of what women wanted, and, even if they knew, of where such material was to be had. Edward at once saw that here was an open field. It was a productive field, since, as woman was the purchasing power, it would benefit the news- paper enormously in its advertising if it could offer a feminine clientele. There was a bright letter of New York gossip pub' Ushed in the New York Star, called "Bab's Babble." Edward had read it, and saw the possibility of syndicat- ing this item as a woman's letter from New York. He instinctively realized that women aU over the country would read it. He sought out the author, made arrange- ments with her and with former Governor Dorscheimer, owner of the paper, and the letter was sent out to a group of papers. It was an instantaneous success, and a syndicate of ninety newspapers was quickly organized. Edward followed this up by engaging Ella Wheeler Wilcox, then at the height of her career, to write a weekly letter on women's topics. This he syndicated in conjunction with the other letter, and the editors in- variably group>ed the two letters. This, in turn, nat- urally led to the idea of supplying an entire page of matter of interest to women. The plan was proposed to a nvmaber of editors, who at once saw the possibil- ities in it and promised support. The young syndicator now laid under contribution aU the famous women writers of the day; he chose the best of the men writers to write on women's topics; and it was not long before the sjmdicate was suppl)dng a page of women's material. The newspapers played up the innovation, and thus was lo6 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK introduced into the newspaper press of the United States the "Woman's Page." The material supplied by the Bok Syndicate Press was of the best; the standard was kept high; the writers were selected from among the most popular authors of the day; and readability was the cardinal note. The women bought the newspapers containing the new page, the advertiser began to feel the pres- ence of the new reader, and every newspaper that could not get the rights for the "Bok Page," as it came to be known, started a "Woman's Page" of its own. Naturally, the material so obtained was of an inferior character. No single newspaper could afford what the s)Tidicate, with the expense divided among a hundred newspapers, could pay. Nor had the editors of these woman's pages either a standard or a policy. In desperation they engaged any person they could to "get a lot of woman's stuff." It was stuff, and of the trashiest kiad. So that almost coincident with the birth of the idea began its abuse and disintegration; the result we see in the meaningless presentations which pass for "woman's pages" in the newspaper of to-day. This is true even of the woman's material in the lead- ing newspapers, and the reason is not difficult to find. The average editor has, as a rule, no time to study the changing conditions of women's interests; his time is and must be engrossed by the news and editorial pages. He usually delegates the Sunday "specials" to some editor who, again, has little time to study the ever- changing women's problems, particularly in these days, and he relies upon unintelligent advice, or he places his "LITERARY LEAVES" 107 "woman's page" in the hands of some woman with the comfortable assurance that, being a woman, she ought to know what interests her sex. But having given the subject Uttle thought, he attaches minor importance to the woman's "stuff," regarding it rather in the light of something that he "must carry to catch the women"; and forthwith he either forgets it or refuses to give the editor of his woman's page even a reasonable allowance to spend on her material. The re- sult is, of course, inevitable: pages of worthless material. There is, in fact, no part of the Sunday newspaper of to-day upon which so much good and now expensive white paper is wasted as upon the pages marked for the home, for women, and for children. Edward Bok now became convinced, from his book- publishing association, that if the American women were not reading the newspapers, the American pubUc, as a whole, was not reading the number of books that it should, considering the intelligence and wealth of the people, and the cheap prices at which books were sold. He concluded to see wliether he could not induce the newspapers to give larger and more prominent space to the news of the book world. Owing to his constant contact with authors, he was in a peculiarly fortimate position to know their plans in advance of execution, and he was beginning to learn the ins and outs of the book-publishing world. He can- vassed the newspapers subscribing to his syndicate features, but found a disinclination to give space to literary news. To the average editor, purely Uterary features held less of an appeal than did the features for lo8 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK women. Fewer persons were interested in books, they declared; besides, the publishing houses were not so^ liberal advertisers as the department stores. The whole question rested on a commercial basis. Edward believed he could convince editors of the public interest in a newsy, readable New York literary letter, and he prevailed upon the editor of the Nov York Star to allow him to supplement the book reviews of George Parsons Lathrop in that paper by a column of Uterary chat called "Literary Leaves." For a num- ber of weeks he continued to write this department, and confine it to the New York paper, feehng that he needed the experience for the acquirement of a readable style, and he wanted to be sure that he had opened a sufficient number of productive news channels to ensure a continuous flow of readable literary information. Occasionally he sent to an editor here and there what he thought was a particularly newsy letter just "for his information, not for sale." The editor of the Philor- delphia Times was the first to discover that his paper wanted the letter, and the Boston Journal followed suit. Then the editor of the Cincinnati Times-Star discovered the letter in the New York Star, and asked that it be supplied weekly with the letter. These newspapers renamed the letter "Bok's Literary Leaves," and the feature started on its successful career. Edward had been in the employ of Henry Holt and Company as clerk and stenographer for two years when Mr. Gary sent for him and told him that there was an opening in the publishing house of Charles Scribner's Sons, if he wanted to make a change. Edward saw at ENTERING SCRIBNER'S 109 once the larger opportunities possible in a house of the importance of the Scribners, and he immediately placed himself in communication with Mr. Charles Scribner, with the result that in January, 1884, he entered the employ of these publishers as stenographer to the two members of the firm and to Mr. Edward L. Burlingame, literary adviser to the house. He was to receive a salary of eighteen dollairs and thirty-three cents per week, which was then considered a fair wage for steno- graphic work. The tj^ewriter had at that time not come into use, and all letters were written in long-hand. Once more his legible handwriting had secured for him a position. Edward Bok was now twenty-one years of age. He had already done a prodigious amount of work for a boy of his years. He was always busy. Every spare mo- ment of his evenings was devoted either to writing his literary letter, to the arrangement or editing of articles for his newspaper syndicate, to the steady acquirement of autograph letters in which he still persisted, or to helping Mr. Beecher in his literary work. The Pl)Tn- outh pastor was particularly pleased with Edward's successful exploitation of his pen work; and he after- ward wrote: "Bok is the only man who ever seemed to make my hterary work go and get money out of it." Enterprise and energy the boy unquestionably pos- sessed, but one need only think back even thus far in his Ufe to see the continuous good fortune which had followed him in the friendships he had made, and in the men with whom his life, at its most formative period, had come into close contact. If we are inclined to credit no THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK young Bok with an ever-willingness to work and a cer- tain quality of initiative, the influences which played upon him must also be taken into account. Take, for example, the peculiarly fortuitous circum- stances under which he entered the Scribner publishing house. As stenographer to the two members of the firm, Bok was immediately brought into touch with the leading authors of the day, their works as they were discussed in the correspondence dictated to him, and the authors' terms upon which books were published. In fact, he was given as close an insight as it was pos- sible for a young man to get into the inner workings of one of the large publishing houses in the United States, with a list peculiarly noted for the distinction of its authors and the broad scope of its books. The Scribners had the foremost theological list of all the pubMs-hing houses; its educational hst was excep- tionally strong; its musical list excelled; its fiction rep- resented the leading writers of the day; its general list was particularly noteworthy; and its foreign department, importing the leading books brought out in Great Britain and Europe, was an outstanding feature of the business. The correspondence dictated to Bok cov- ered, naturally, all these fields, and a more remarkable opportunity for self-education was never offered a stenographer. Mr. Burlingame was known in the publishing world for his singularly keen Hterary appreciation, and was accepted as one of the best judges of good fiction. Bok entered the Scribner employ as Mr. Burlingame was selecting the best short stories published within a decade ENTERING SCRIBNER'S iil for a set of books to be called "Short Stories by Amer- ican Authors." The correspondence for this series was dictated to Bok, and he decided to read after Mr. Burlingame and thus get an idea of the best fiction of the day. So whenever his chief wrote to an author asking for permission to include his story in the pro- posed series, Bok immediately hunted up the story and read it. Later, when the house decided to start Scribner's Magazine, and Mr. Burlingame was selected to be its editor, all the preliminary correspondence was dictated to Bok through his employers, and he received a first- hand education in the setting up of the machinery necessary for the publication of a magazine. iUl this he eagerly absorbed. He was again fortunate in that his desk was placed in the advertising department of the house; and here he found, as manager, an old-time Brooklyn boy friend with whom he had gone to school: Frank N. Doubleday, to-day the senior partner of Doubleday, Page and Com- pany. Bok had been attracted to advertising through his theatre programme and Brooklyn Magazine experi- ence, and here was presented a chance to learn the art at first hand and according to the best traditions. So, whenever his stenographic work permitted, he assisted Mr. Doubleday in preparing and placing the advertise- ments of the books of the house. Mr. Doubleday was just reviving the publication of a house-organ called The Book Buyer, and, given a chance to help in this, Bok felt he was getting back into the periodical field, especially since, under Mr. 112 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK Doubleday's guidance, the little monthly soon developed into a literary magazine of very respectable size and generally bookish contents. The house also issued another periodical, The Presby- terian Review, a quarterly under the editorship of a board of professors connected with the Princeton and Union Theological Seminaries. This ponderous-looking magazine was not composed of what one might call "light reading," and as the price of a single copy was eighty cents, and the advertisements it could reason- ably expect were necessarily limited in number, the periodical was rather difl&cult to move. Thus the whole situation at the Scribners' was adapted to give Edward an all-BDund training in the publishing business. It was an exceptional opportunity. He worked early and late. An increase in his salary soon told him that he was satisfying his employers, and then, when the new Scribner's Magazine appeared, and a Uttle later Mr. Doubleday was delegated to take charge of the business end of it, Bok himself was placed in charge of the advertising department, with the pub- lishing details of the two periodicals on his hands. He suddenly found himself directing a stenographer instead of being a stenographer himself. Evidently his apprentice days were over. He had, in addition, the charge of sending all the editorial copies of the new books to the press for review, and of keeping a record of those reviews. This naturally brought to his desk the authors of the house who wished to see how the press received their works. The study of the writers who were interested in fol- ENTERING SCRIBNER'S "3 lowing the press notices of their books, and those who were indifferent to them becanae a fascinating game to young Bok. He soon discovered that the greater the author the less he seemed to care about his books once they were published. Bok noticed this, particularly, in the case of Robert Louis Stevenson, whose work had attracted him, but, although he used the most subtle means to inveigle the author into the ofl&ce to read the press notices, he never succeeded. Stevenson never seemed to have the sUghtest interest in what the press said of his books. One day Mr. Burlingame asked Bok to take some proofs to Stevenson at his home; thinking it might be a propitious moment to interest the author in the popular acclaim that followed the publication of Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Bok put a bunch of press notices in his pocket. He found the author in bed, smoking his in- evitable cigarette. As the proofs were to be brought back, Bok waited, and thus had an opportunity for nearly two hours to see the author at work. No man ever went over his proofs more carefully than did Stevenson; his correc- tions were numerous; and sometimes for ten minutes at a time he would sit smoking and thinking over a single sentence, which, when he had satisfactorily shaped it in his mind, he would recast on the proof. Stevenson was not a prepossessing figure at these times. With his sallow skin and his black dishevelled hair, with finger-nails which had been allowed to grow very long, with fingers discolored by tobacco — ^in short, with a general' untidiness that was all his own, Stevenson, so 114 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK Bok felt, was an author whom it was better to read than to see. And yet his kin(fliness and gentleness more than offset the unattractiveness of his physical appearance. After one or two visits from Bok, having grown ac- customed to him, Stevenson would discuss some sentence in an article, or read some amended paragraph out loud and ask whether Bok thought it sounded better. To pass upon Stevenson as a stylist was, of course, hardly within Bok's mental reach, so he kept discreetly silent when Stevenson asked his opinion. In fact, Bok reasoned it out that the novelist did not really expect an answer or an opinion, but was at such times thinking aloud. The mental process, however, was immensely interesting, particularly when Stevenson would ask Bok to hand him a book on words lying on an adjacent table. "So hard to find just the right word," Stevenson woxdd say, and Bok got his first realization of the truth of the maxim: "Easy writing, hard reading; hard writing, easy reading." On this particular occasion when Stevenson finished, Bok pulled out his clippings, told the author how his book was being received, and was selling, what the house was doing to advertise it, explained the forthcoming play by Richard Mansfield, and then offered the press notices. Stevenson took the bundle and held it in his hand. "That's very nice to teU me aU you have," he said, "and I have been greatly interested. But you have really told me aU about it, haven't you, so why should I read these notices ? Hadn't I better get busy on another paper for Mr. Burlingame for the next magazine, else ENTERING SCRIBNER'S iiS he'll be after me ? You know how impatient these edi- tors are." And he handed back the notices. Bok saw it was of no use: Stevenson was interested in his work, but, beyond a certain point, not in the world's reception of it. Bok's estimate of the author rose im- measurably. His attitude was in such sharp contrast to that of others who came almost daily into the office to see what the papers said, often causing discomfiture to the young advertising director by insisting upon taking the notices with them. But Bok always countered this desire by reminding the author that, of course, in that case he could not quote from these desirable notices in his advertisements of the book. And, invariably, the notices were left behind ! It now fell to the lot of the young advertiser to arouse the interest of the pubUc in what were to be some of the most widely read and best-known books of the day; Robert Louis Stevenson's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde; Frances Hodgson Burnett's Little Lord Fauntleroy; Andrew Carnegie's Triumphant Democracy; Frank R. Stockton's The Lady, or the Tiger? and his Rudder Grange, and a succession of other books. The advertising of these books keenly sharpened the publicity sense of the developing advertising director. One book could best be advertised by the conventional means of the display advertisement; another, like Trium- phant Democracy, was best served by sending out to the newspapers a "broadside" of pungent extracts; public curiosity in a novel like The Lady, or the Tiger ? was, of course, whetted by the publication of literary notes as to the real denouement the author had in mind in Il6 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK writing the story. Whenever Mr. Stockton came into the ofl&ce Bok pumped him dry as to his experiences with the story, such as when, at a dinner party, his hostess served an ice-cream lady and a tiger to the au- thor, and the whole company watched which he chose. "And ^yllich did you choose?" asked the advertising director. "Et tu, Brute?" Stockton smUingly rephed. "Well, I'll tell you. I asked the butler to bring me another spoon, and then, with a spoon in each hand, I attacked both the lady and the tiger at the same time." Once, when Stockton was going to Boston by the night boat, every room was taken. The ticket agent recognized the author, and promised to get him a de- sirable room if the author would tell which he had had in mind, the lady or the tiger. "Produce the room," answered Stockton. The man did. Stockton paid for it, and then said: "To tell you the truth, my friend, I don't know." And that was the truth, as Mr. Stockton confessed to his friends. The idea of the story had fascinated him; when he began it he purposed to give it a definite ending. But when he reached the end he didn't know himself which to produce out of the open door, the lady or the tiger, "and so," he used to explain, "I made up my mind to leave it hanging in the air." To the present generation of readers, aU this reference to Stockton's story may sound strange, but for months it was the most talked-of story of the time, and sold into large numbers. One day while Mr. Stockton was in Bok's office, A. ENTERING SCRIBNER'S 117 B. Frost, the illustrator, came in. Frost had become a fuU-fledged farmer with one himdred and twenty acres of Jersey land, and Stockton had a large farm in the South which was a financial burden to him. "Well, Stockton," said Frost, "I have found a way at last to make a farm stop eating up money. Per- haps it will help you." Stockton was busy writing, but at this bit of hopeful news he looked up, his eyes kindled, he dropped his pen, and eagerly said: "Tell me." And looking behind him to see that the way was clear. Frost answered: "Pave it sohd, old man." When the stories of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Little Lord Fauntleroy were made into plays, Bok was given an opportunity for an entirely different kind of publicity. Both plays were highly successful; they ran for weeks in succession, and each evening Bok had cir- culars of the books in every seat of the theatre; he had a table filled with the books in the foyer of each theatre; and he bombarded the newspapers with stories of Mr. Mansfield's method of making the quick change from one character to the other in the dual role of the Ste- venson play, and with anecdotes about the boy Tommy Russell in Mrs. Burnett's play. The sale of the books went merrily on, and kept pace with the success of the plays. And it all sharpened the initiative of the young advertiser and developed his sense for publicity. One day while waiting in the anteroom of a publish- ing house to see a member of the firm, he picked up a Ii8 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK book and began to read it. Since he had to wait for nearly an hour, he had read a large part of the volume when he was at last admitted to the private office. When his business was finished, Bok asked the pub- lisher why this book was not selling. "I don't know," replied the publisher. "We had great hopes for it, but somehow or other the public has not responded to it." "Are you sure you are telling the public about it in the right way?" ventured Bok. The Scribner advertising had by this time attracted the attention of the pubUshing world, and this pubUsher was entirely ready to listen to a suggestion from his youthful caller. "I wish we pubUshed it," said Bok. "I think I could make it a go. It's all in the book." "How would you advertise it?" asked the pubUsher. Bok promised the publisher he would let him know. He carried with him a copy of the book, wrote some ad- vertisements for it, prepared an attractive "broadside" of extracts, to which the book easily lent itself, wrote some literary notes about it, and sent the whole collec- tion to the pubUsher. Every particle of "copy" which Bok had prepared was used, the book began to seU, and within three months it was the most discussed book of the day. The book was Edward Bellamy's Looking Backward. CHAPTER XI THE CHANCES FOR SUCCESS Edward Bok does not now remember whether the mental picture had been given him, or whether he had conjured it up for himself; but he certainly was pos- sessed of the idea, as are so many young men entering business, that the path which led to success was very difficult: that it was overfilled with a jostling, bustling, panting crowd, each eager to reach the goal; and all ready to diq>ute every step that a young man should take; and that favoritism only could bring one to the top. After Bok had been in the world of affairs, he wondered where were these choked avenues, these struggling masses, these competitors for every inch of vantage. Then he gradually discovered that they did not exist. In the first place, he found every avenue leading to success wide open and certainly not oveipecf>led. He was surprised how few there were who really stood in a yoimg man's way. He foimd that favoritism was not the factor that he had been led to suppose. He realized it existed in a few isolated cases, but to these every one had pointed and about these every one had talked until, in the public mind, they had multiplied in numfcer and assumed a proportion that the facts did not bear out. Here and there a relative "played a favorite," but even with the push and influence behind him "the lucky I20 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK one," as he was termed, did not seem to make progress, unless he had merit. It was not long before Bok dis- covered that the possession of sheer merit was the only real factor that actually counted in any of the places where he had been employed or in others which he had watched; that business was so constructed and conducted that nothing else, in the face of competition, could act as current coin. And the amazing part of it all to Bok was how Uttle merit there was. Nothing astonished him more than the low average abihty of those with whom he worked or came into contact. He looked at the top, and instead of finding it over- crowded, he was surprised at the few who had reached there; the top fairly begged for more to cHmb its heights. For every yoxmg man, earnest, eager to serve, will- ing to do more than he was paid for, he found ten trying to solve the problem of how little they could actually do for the pay received. It interested Bok to listen to the talk of his fellow- workers during luncheon hours and at all other times out- side of office hours. When the talk did turn on the business with which they were concerned, it consisted almost entirely of wages, and he soon iovtad that, with scarcely an exception, every yoimg man was terribly underpaid, and that his employer absolutely failed to appreciate his work. It was interesting, later, when Bok happened to get the angle of the employer, to dis- cover that, invariably, these same lamenting yoimg men were those who, from the employer's point of view, were either greatly overpaid or so entirely worthless as to be marked for early decapitation. THE CHANCES FOR SUCCESS 121 Bok felt that this constant thought of the wages earned or deserved was putting the cart before the horse; he had schooled himself into the belief that if he did his work well, and accomplished more than was ex- pected of him, the question of wages would take care of itself. But, according to the talk on every side, it was he who had the cart before the horsfe. Bok had not only tried always to fill the particular job set for him, but had made it a rule at the same time to study the position just ahead, to see what it was like, what it demanded, and then, as the opportunity presented it- self, do a part of that job in addition to his own. As a stenographer, he tried always to clear off the day's work before he closed his desk. This was not always possible, but he kept it before him as a rule to be followed rather than violated. One morning Bok's employer happened to come to the oflSce earlier than usual, to find the letters he had. dic- tated late in the afternoon before l)dng on his desk ready to be signed. "These are the letters I gave you late yesterday after- noon, are they not?" asked the employer. "Yes, sir." "Must have started early this morning, didn't you?" "No, sir," answered Bok. "I wrote them out last evening before I left." "Like to get your notes written out before they get stale?" "Yes, sir." "Good idea," said the employer. "Yes, sir," answered Bok, "and I think it is even a 122 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK better idea to get a day's work off before I take my apron off." "Well said," answered the employer, and the follow- ing payday Bok found an increase in his weekly en- velope. It is only fair, however, to add here, parenthetically, that it is neither just nor considerate to a conscientious stenographer for an employer to delay his dictation until the end of the day's work, when, merely by judi- cious management of his affairs and time, he can give his dictation directl3{j,after opening his morning mail. There are two sides to every question; but sometimes the side of the stenographer is not kept in mind by the em- ployer. Bok found it a uniform rule among his fellow- workers to do exactly the opposite to his own idea; there was an astonishing unanimity in working by the dock; where the hour of closing was five o'clock the prepara- tions began five minutes before, with the hat and over- coat over the back of the chair ready for the stroke of the hour. This concert of action was curiously uni- versal, no "overtime" was ever to be thought of, and, as occasionally happened when the work did go over the hour, it was not, to use the mildest term, done with care, neatness, or accuracy; it was, to use a current phrase, "slammed off." Every moment beyond five o'clock in which the worker was asked to do anything was by just so much an imposition on the part of the employer, and so far as it could be safely shown, this impression was gotten over to him. There was an entire unwillingness to let business THE CHANCES FOR SUCCESS 123 interfere with any anticipated pleasure or personal en- gagement. The office was all right between nine and five; one had to be there to earn a hving; but after five, it was not to be thought of for one moment. The elevators which ran on the stroke of five were never large enough to hold the throng which besieged them. • The talk during Itmch hour rarely, if ever, turned toward business, except as said before, when it dealt with imderpaid services. In the spring and summer it was invariably of baseball, and scores of young men knew the batting averages of the different players and the standing of the dubs with far greater accuracy than they knew the standing or the discounts of the customers of their employers. In the winter the talk was all of dancing, boxing, or plays. It soon became evident to Bok why scarcely five out of every hundred of the young men whom he knew made any business progress. They were not interested; it was a case of a day's work and a day's pay; it was not a question of how much one could do but how httle one could get away with. The thought of how well one might do a given thing never seemed to occur to the average mind. "Oh, what do you care?" was the favorite expres- sion. "The boss won't notice it if you break your back over his work; you won't get any more pay." And there the subject was dismissed, and thoroughly dismissed, too. Eventually, then, Bok learned that the path that led to success was wide open: the competition was negligi- ble. There was no jostling. In fact, travel on it was 124 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK just a trifle lonely. One's fellow-travellers were excel- lent company, but they were few! It was one of Edward Bok's greatest surprises, but it was also one of his greatest stimulants. To go where others could not go, or were loath to go, where at least they were not, had a tang that savored of the freshest kind of adven- ture. And the way was so simple, so much simpler, in fact, than its avoidance, which called for so much argu- ment, explanation, and discussion. One had merely to do aU that one could do, a little more than one was asked or expected to do, and immediately one's head rose above the crowd and one was in an employer's eye — ^where it is always so satisfjdng for an employee to be ! And as so few heads lifted themselves above the many, there was never, any danger that they would not be seen. Of course, Edward Bok had to prove to himself that his conception of conditions was right. He felt in- stinctively that it was, however, and with this stimulus he bucked the Hne hard. When others played, he worked, fuUy convinced that his play-time would come later. Where others shirked, he assumed. Where others lagged, he accelerated his pace. Where others were indifferent to things around them, he observed and put away the results for possible use later. He did not make of himself a pack-horse; what he undertook he did from interest in it, and that made it a pleasure to him when to others it was a burden. He instinctively reasoned it out that an unpleasant task is never accom- plished by stepping aside from it, but that, imerringly, it will return later to be met and done. THE CHANCES FOR SUCCESS 112$ Obstacles, to Edward Bok, soon became merely diffi- culties to be overcome, and he trusted to his instinct to show him the best way to overcome them. He soon learned that the hardest kind of work was back of every success; that nothing in the world of business just hap- pened, but that everything was brought about, and only in one way — by a willingness of spirit and a determina- tion to carry through. He soon exploded for himself the misleading and comfortable theory of luck: the only lucky people, he found, were those who worked hard. To them, luck came in the shape of what they had earned. There were exceptions here and there, as there are to every rule; but the majority of these; he soon foimd, were more in the seeming than in the reahty. Gener- ally speaking — and of course to this rule there are like- wise exceptions, or as the Frenchman said, "AU gen- eralizations are false, including this one" — ^a man got in this world about what he worked for. And that became, for himself, the rule of Edward Bok's Ufe. CHAPTER XII BAPTISM UNDER FIRE The personnel of the Scribner house was very youth- ful from the members of the firm clear down the Une. It was veritably a house of young men. The story is told of a Boston publisher, sedate and fairly elderfy, who came to the Scribner house to trans- act business with several of its departments. One of his errands concerning itself with advertising, he was introduced to Bc^, who was then twenty-four. Look- ing the youth over, he transacted his business as well as he felt it could be transacted with a manager of such tender years, and then sought the head of the educational department: this brought him to another yoimg man of twenty-four. With his yearnings for some one more advanced in years fuU upon him, the visitor now inquired for the business manager of the new magazine, only to find a man of twenty-six. His next introduction was to the head of the out-of-town business department, who was twenty-seven. At this point the Boston man asked to see Mr. Scrib- ner. This disclosed to him Mr. Arthur H. Scribner, the junior partner, who owned to twenty-eight summers. Mustering courage to ask faintly for Mr. Charles Scrib- ner himself, he finally brought up in that gentleman's office only to meet a man just turning thirty-three ! 126 BAPTISM UNDER FIRE 127 "This is a young-looking crowd," said Mr. Scribner one day, looking over his young men. And his eye rested on Bok. "Particularly you, Bok. Doubleday looks his years better than you do, for at least he has a moustache." Then, contemplatively: "You raise a moustache, Bok, and I'll raise your salary." This appealed to Bok very strongly, and within a month he pointed out the result to his employer. "Stand in the Hght here," said Mr. Scribner. "Well, yes," he concluded dubiously, "it's there — something at least. All right; I'H keep my part of the bargain." He did. But the next day he was nonplussed to see ■ that the moustache had disappeared from the lip of his youthful advertising manager. "Couldn't quite stand it, Mr. Scribner," was the explanation. "Besides, you didn't say I should keep it: you merely said to raise it." But the increase did not follow the moustache. To Bok's great relief, it stuck ! This youthful personnel, while it made for esprit de corps, had also its disadvantages. One day as Bok was going out to lunch, he foimd a small-statured man, rather plainly dressed, wandering around the retail department, hoping for a salesman to wait on him. The young salesman on duty, fuU of inexperience, had a ready smile and quick service ever ready for "carriage trade," as he called it; but this particular customer had come afoot, and this, together with his plainness of dress, did not impress the young salesman. His atten- tion was called to the wandering customer, and it was suggested tiiat he find out what was wanted. When Bok returned from lunch, the young salesman, who. 128 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK with a beaming smile, had just most ceremoniously bowed the plainly dressed little customer out of the street-door, said: "You certainly struck it rich that time when you suggested my waiting on that little man ! Such an order! Been here ever since. Did you know who it was?" "No," returned Bok. "Who was it?" "Andrew Carnegie," beamed the salesman. Another youthful clerk in the Scribner retail book- store, unconscious of the customer's identity, waited one day on the wife of Mark Twain. Mrs, Clemens asked the young salesman for a copy of Taine's Ancient Regime. "Beg pardon," said the clerk, "what book did you say?" Mrs. Clemens repeated the author and title of the book. Going to the rear of the store, the clerk soon returned, only to inquire: "May I ask you to repeat the name of the author ? " "Taine, T-a-i-n-e," replied Mrs. Clemens. Then did the youthfulness of the salesman assert itself. Assuming an air of superior knowledge, and look- ing at the customer with an air of sympathy, he cor- rected Mrs. Clemens: "Pardon me, madam, but you j^iave the name a trifle wrong. You mean Twain — ^not Taine." With so many young men of the same age, there was a natural sense of team-work and a spirit of comrade- ship that made for successful co-operation. This spirit extended outside of business hours. At luncheon there BAPTISM UNDER FIRE 129 was a Scribner table in a neighboring restaurant, and evenings saw the Scribner department heads mingling as friends. It was a group of young men who under- stood and liked each other, with the natural result that business went easier and better because of it. But Bok did not have much time for evening enjoy- ment, since his outside interests had grown and pros- pered and they kept him busy. His syndicate was reg- ularly suppl3dng over a hundred newspapers: his liter- ary letter had become an estabhshed feature in thirty different newspapers. Of course, his opportunities for making this letter interesting were imusual. Owing to his Scribner con- nection, however, he had taken his name from the letter and signed that of his brother. He had, also, constantly to discriminate between the information that he could pubUsh without violation of confidence and that which he felt he was not at hberty to print. This gave him excellent experience; for the most vital of all essentials in the journalist is the ability unerringly to decide what to print and what to regard as confidential. Of course, the best things that came to him he could not print. Whenever there was a question, he gave the benefit of the doubt to the confidential relation in which his position placed him with authors; and his Dutch caution, although it deprived him of many a toothsome morsel for his letter, soon became known to his confreres, and was a large asset when, as an editor, he had to fol- low the golden rule of editorship that teaches one to keep the ears open but the mouth shut. This Alpha and Omega of all the commandments in I30 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK the editorial creed some editors learn by sorrowful ex- perience. Bok was, again, fortunate in learning it under the most friendly auspices. He continued to work without sparing himself, but his star remained in the ascendency. Just how far a man's own efforts and standards keep a friendly star centred over his head is a question. But Edward Bok has always felt that he was materially helped by fortuitous conditions not of his own creation or choice. He was now to receive his first public baptism of fire. He had published a symposium, through his new^aper syndicate, discussing the question, "Should Clergymen Smoke?" He had induced all the prominent clergy- men in the country to contribute their views, and so dis- tinguished was tl^e Ust that the article created wide- spread attention. One of the contributors was the Reverend Richard S. Storrs, D.D., one of the most distinguished of Brook- l)m's coterie of clergy of that day. A few days after the publication of the article, Bok was astounded to read in the Brooklyn Eagle a sensational article, with large headlines, in which Doctor Storrs repudiated his contribution to the symposium, declared that he had never written or signed such a statement, and accused Edward Bok of forgery. Coming from a man of Doctor Storrs's prominence, the accusation was, of course, a serious one. Bok realized this at once. He foresaw the damage it might work to the reputation of a young man trying to dimb the ladder of success, and wondered why Doctor Storrs had seen fit to accuse him in this public manner instead BAPTISM UNDER FIRE 131 of caHing upon him for a personal explanation. He thought perhaps he might find such a letter from Doctor Storrs when he reached home, but instead he met a small corps of reporters from the Brooklyn and New York newspapers. He told them frankly that no one was more surprised at the accusation than he, but that the orig^al contributions were in the New York oflSce of the syndicate, and he could not corroborate his word until he had looked into the papers and found Doctor Storrs's contribution. That evening Bok got at the papers in the case, and found out that, technically. Doctor Storrs was right: he had not written or signed such a statement. The compiler of the symposium, the editor of one of New York's leading evening papers whom Bok had em- ployed, had found Doctor Storrs's declaration in favor ©f a clergyman's use of tobacco in an address made some time before, had extracted it and incorporated it into the S3Tnposium. It was, therefore, Doctor Storrs's opinion on the subject, but not written for the occasion for which it was used. Bok felt that his editor had led him into an indiscretion. Yet the sentiments were those of the writer whose name was attached to them, so that the act was not one of forgery. The editor ex- plained that he had sent the extract to Doctor Storrs, who had not returned it, and he had taken silence to mean consent to the use of the material. Bok decided to say nothing untU he heard from Doc- tor Storrs personally, and so told the newspapers. But the clergyman did not stop his attack. Of course, the newspapers egged him on and extracted from him the 132 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK further accusation that Bok's silence proved his guilt. Bok now took the case to Mr. Beecher, and asked his advice. "Well, Edward, you are right and you are wrong," said Mr. Beecher. "And so is Storrs, of course. It is beneath him to do what he has done. Storrs and I are not good friends, as you know, and so I cannot go to him and ask him the reason of his disclaimer. Other- wise I would. Of course, he may have forgotten his remarks: that is always possible in a busy man's life. He may not have received the letter enclosing them. That is likewise possible. But I have a feehng that Storrs has some reason for wishing to repudiate his views on this subject just at this time. What it is I do not, of course, know, but his vehemence makes me think so. I think I should let him have his rein. Keep you quiet. It may damage you a httle here and there, but in the end it won't harm you. In the main point, you are right. You are not a forger. The sentiments are his and he uttered them, and he should stand by them. He threatens to bring you into court, I see from to-day's paper. Wait untU he does so." Bok, chancing to meet Doctor Talmage, told him Mr. Beecher's advice, and he endorsed it. "Remember, boy," said Doctor Talmage, "silence is never so golden as when you are under fire. I know, for I have been there, as you know, more than once. Keep quiet; and always believe this: that there is a great deal of common sense abroad in the world, and a man is always safe in trusting it to do him justice." They were not pleasant and easy days for Bok, for BAPTISM UNDER FIRE 133 Doctor Storrs kept up the din for several days. Bok waited for the word to appear in court. But this never came, and the matter soon died down and out. And, although Bok met the clergyman several times afterward in the years that followed, no reference was ever made by him to the incident. But Edward Bok had learned a valuable lesson of silence imder fire — ^an experience that was to stand him in good stead when he was again publicly attacked not long afterward. This occurred in connection with a notable anniversary celebration in honor of Henry Ward Beecher, in which the entire city of Brooklyn was to participate. It was to mark a mile-stone in Mr. Beecher's ministry and in his pastorate of Pl3nnouth Church. Bok planned a world- wide tribute to the famed clerg37man: he would get the most distinguished men and women of this and other countries to express their esteem for the Plymouth pas- tor in written congratvilations, and he would bind these into a volume for presentation to Mr. Beecher on the occasion. He consulted members of the Beecher family, and, with their acquiescence, began to assemble the material. He was in the midst of the work when Henry Ward Beecher passed away. Bok felt that the tributes already received were too wonderful to be lost to the world, and, after again consulting Mrs. Beecher and her children, he determined to finish the collection and pubUsh it as a memorial for private distribution. After a prodigious correspondence, the work was at last completed; and in June, 1887, the volume was published, in a limited edition of five hundred copies. 134 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK Bok distributed copies of the volume to the members of Mr. Beecher's family, he had orders from Mr. Beech- er's friends, one hundred copies were offered to the American public and one hundred copies were issued in an English edition. With such a figure to whom to do honor, the con- tributors, of course, included the foremost men and women of the time. Grover Cleveland was then Presi- dent of the United States, and his tribute was a notable one. Mr. Gladstone, the Duke of Argyll, Pasteur, Canon Farrar, Bartholdi, Salvini, and a score of others represented English and European opinion. Oliver Wendell Holmes, John Greenleaf Whittier, T. De Witt Talmage, Robert G. Ingersoll, Charles Dudley Warner, General Sherman, Julia Ward Howe, Andrew Carnegie, Edwin Booth, Rutherford B. Hayes — there was scarcely a leader of thought and of action of that day imrepre- sented. The edition was, of course, quickly exhausted; and when to-day a copy occasionally appears at an auc- tion sale, it is sold at a high price. The newspapers gave very large space to the dis- tinguished memorial, and this fact angered a journalist, Joseph Howard, Junior, a man at one time close to Mr. Beecher, who had befriended him. Howard had planned to be the first in the field with a hastily prepared bi- ography of the great preacher, and he felt that Bok had forestalled him. Forthwith, he launched a vicious attack on the compiler of the memorial, accusing him of "making money out of Henry Ward Beecher's dead body" and of "seriously offending the family of Mr. Beecher, who had had no say in the memorial, which BAPTISM UNDER FIRE 135 was therefore without authority, and hence extremely distasteful to all." Howard had convinced a number of editors of the jus- tice of his position, and so he secured a wide pubUcation for his attack. For the second time, Edward Bok was xmder fire, and remembering his action on the previous occasion, he again remained silent, and again the argu- ment was put forth that his silence impUed guilt. But Mrs. Beecher and members of the Beecher family did not observe silence, and quickly proved that not only had Bok compiled the memorial as a labor of love and had lost money on it, but that he had the fuU consent of the family in its preparation. When, shortly afterward, Howard's hastily compiled "biography" of Mr. Beecher appeared, a reporter asked Mrs. Beecher whether she and her family had found it accurate. "Accurate, my child," said Mrs. Beecher. "Why, it is so accurate in its absolute falsity that neither I nor the boys can find one fact or date given correctly, although we have studied it for two days. Even the year of Mr. Beecher's birth is wrong, and that is the smallest error!" Edward Bok little dreamed that these two experiences with pubhc criticism were to serve him as a foretaste of future attacks when he would get the benefit of hundreds of pencils especially sharpened for him. CHAPTER Xni PUBLISHING INCIDENTS AND ANECDOTES One evening some literary men were dining together previous to going to a private house where a number of authors were to give readings from their books. At the table the talk turned on the carelessness with which the public reads books. Richard Harding Davis, one of the party, contended that the public read more carefully than the others believed. It was just at the time when Du Maurier's Trilby was in every one's hands. "Don't you believe it," said one of the diners. "I'll warrant you could take a portion of some well-known story to-night and palm it off on most of your Usteners as new stuff." "Done," said Davis. "Come along, and I'U prove you wrong." The reading was to be at the house of John Kendrick Bangs at Yonkers. When Davis's "turn" in the pro- gramme came, he announced that he would read a por- tion from an unpubUshed story written by himself. Immediately there was a flutter in the audience, par- ticularly among the younger element. Pulling a roll of manuscript out of his pocket, Davis began: "It was a fine, sunny, showery day in April. The big studio window " 136 PUBLISHING INCIDENTS AND ANECDOTES 137 He got no farther. Almost the entire audience broke into a shout of laughter and applause. Davis had read thirteen of the opening words of Trilby. All publishing houses employ "readers" outside of those in their own oflaces for the reading of manuscripts on special subjects. One of these "outside readers" was given a manuscript for criticism. He took it home and began its reading. He had finished only a hundred pages or so when, by a curious coincidence, the card of the author of the manuscript was brought to the "reader." The men were close friends. Hastily gathering up the manuscript, the critic shoved the work into a drawer of his desk, and asked that his friend be shown in. The evening was passed in conversation; as the visitor rose to leave, his host, rising also and seating himself on his desk, asked : / "What have you been doing lately? Haven't seen much of you." "No," said the friend. "It may interest you to know that I have been turning to hterary work, and have just completed what I consider to be an important book." "Really?" commented the "reader." "Yes," went on his friend. "I submitted it a few days ago to one of the big publishing houses. But, great Scott, you can never tell what these publishers will do with a thing of that sort. They give their manuscripts to all kinds of fools to read. I suppose, by this time, some idiot, who doesn't know a tMng of the subject about which I have written, is sitting on my manu- script." 138 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK Mechanically, the "reader" looked at the desk upon which he was sitting, thought of the manuscript lying in the drawer directly under him, and said : "Yes, that may be. Quite likely, in fact." Of no novel was the secret of the authorship ever so well kept as was that of The Breadwinners, which, published anonjTnously in 1883, was the talk of literary circles for a long time, and speculation as to its author- ship was renewed in the newspapers for years after- ward. Bok wanted very much to find out the author's name so that he could announce it in his Mterary letter. He had his suspicions, but they were not well foxmded until an amusing little incident occurred which curiously revealed the secret to him. Bok was waiting to see one of the members of a pub- lishing firm when a well-known English publisher, visiting in America, was being escorted out of the office, the conversation continuing as the two gentlemen walked through the outer rooms. "My chief reason," said the English pubhsher, as he stopped at the end of the outer office where Bok was sitting, "for hesitating at all about taking an English set of plates of the novel you speak of is because it is of anonymous authorship, a custom of writing which has grown out of all decent pro- portions in your country since the issue of that stupid book. The Breadwinners." As these last words were spoken, a man seated at a desk directly behind the speaker looked up, smiled, and resumed reading a document which he had dropped in to sign. A smile also spread over the countenance of the American publisher as he furtively glanced over the PUBLISHING INCIDENTS AND ANECDOTES 139 shoulder of the English visitor and caught the eye of the smiling man at the desk. Bok saw the Kttle comedy, realized at once that he had discovered the author of The Breadwinners, and stated to the pubUsher that he intended to use the incident in his literary letter. But it proved to be one of those heart-rending instances of a delicious morsel of news that must be withheld from the journalist's use. The pubUsher acknowledged that Bok had hap- pened upon the true authorship, but placed him upon his honor to make no use of the incident. And Bok learned again the vital journalistic lesson that there are a great many things in the world that the joumahst knows and yet cannot write about. He would have been years in advance of the announcement finally made that John Hay wrote the novel. At another time, while waiting, Bok had an experience which, while interesting, was saddening instead of amus- ing. He was sitting in Mark Twain's sitting-room in his home in Hartford waiting for the hmnorist to re- turn from a walk. Suddenly sounds of devotional sing- ing came in through the open window from the direc- tion of the outer conservatory. The singing was low, yet the sad tremor in the voice seemed to give it special carrying power. "You have quite a devotional servant," Bok said to a maid who was dusting the room. "Oh, that is not a servant who is singing, sir," was the answer. "You can step to this window and see for yourself." Bok did so, and there, sitting alone on one of the I40 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK rustic benches in the flower-house, was a small, elderly woman. Keeping time with the first finger of her right hand, as if with a baton, she was sHghtly swaying her frail body as she sang, softly yet sweetly, Charles Wes- ley's h3min, "Jesus, Lover of My Soul," and Sarah Flower Adams's "Nearer, My God, to Thee." But the singer was not a Servant. It was Harriet Beecher Stowe ! On another visit to Hartford, shortly afterward, Bok was just turning into Forrest Street when a Httle old woman came shambling along toward him, uncon- scious, apparently, of people or surroundings. In her hand she carried a small tree-switch. Bok did not notice her until just as he had passed her he heard her calling to him: "Young man, young man." Bok retraced his steps, and then the old lady said: "Young man, you have been leaning against something white," and taking her tree-switch she whipped some wall dust from the sleeve of Bok's coat. It was not imtil that moment that Bok recognized in his self-appointed "brush" no less a personage than Harriet Beecher Stowe. "This is Mrs. Stowe, is it not? " he asked, after tender- ing his thanks to her. Those blue eyes looked strangely into his as she an- swered : "That is my name, young man. I live on this street. Are you going to have me arrested for stopping you?" with which she gathered up her skirts and quickly ran a^ay, looking furtively over her shoulder at the amazed young man, sorrowfuly watching the running figure ! Speaking of Mrs. Stowe brings to mind an unscrupu- PUBLISHING INCIDENTS AND ANECDOTES 141 lous and yet ingenious trick just about this time played by a young man attached to one of the New York pub- lishing houses. One evening at dinner this chap hap- pened to be in a bookish company when the talk turned to the enthusiasm of liie Southern negro for an illus- trated Bible. The young pubUshing clerk listened in- tently, and next day he went to a Bible pubHshing house in New York which issued a Bible gorgeous with pic- tures and entered into an arrangement with the pro- prietors whereby he should have the Southern territory. He resigned his position, and within a week he was in the South. He made arrangements with an artist friend to make a change in each copy of the Bible which he contracted for. The angels pictured therein were white in color. He had these made black, so he could show that there were black angels as well as white ones. The Bibles cost him just eighty cents apieee. He went about the South and offered the Bibles to the astonished and open-mouthed negroes for eight dollars each, two dollars and a half down and the rest in monthly pay- ments. His sales were enormous. Then he went his rounds all over again and offered to close out the re- maining five dollars and a half due him by a final pay- ment of two dollars and a half each. In nearly every case the bait was swallowed, and on each Bible he thus cleared four dollars and twenty cents net ! Rimning the elevator in the building where a promi- nent publishing firm had its ofl&ce was a negro of more than ordinary inteliig^ice. The firm had just published a subscription book on mechanical engineering, a chap- ter of which was devoted to the construction and opera- 142 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK tion of passenger elevators. One of the agents selling the book thought he might find a customer in Wash- ington. "Wash," said the book-agent, "you ought to buy a copy of this book, do you know it?" "No, boss, don't want no books. Don't git no time fo' readin' books," drawled Wash. "It teks aU mah time to run dis elevator." "But this book will help you to nm your elevator. See here: there's a whole chapter here on elevators," persisted the canvasser. "Don't want no help to nm dis elevator," said the darky. "Dis elevator runs aU right now." "But," said the canvasser, "this wiU help you to run it better. You wiU know twice as much when you get through." "No, boss, no, dat's just it," returned Wash. "Don't want to learn nothing, boss," he said. "Why, boss, I know more now than I git paid for." There was one New York newspaper that prided it- self on its huge circulation, and its advertising canvassers were particularly insistent in securing the advertisements of publishers. Of course, the real purpose of the paper was to secure a certain standing for itself, which it lacked, rather than to be of any service to the publishers. By dint of perseverance, its agents finally secured from one of the ten-cent magazines, then so numerous, a large advertisement of a special number, and in order to test the drawing power of the newspaper as a medium, there was inserted a line in large blade type: "SEND TEN CENTS FOR A NUMBER." PUBLISHING INCIDENTS AND ANECDOTES 143 But the compositor felt that magazine literature should be even cheaper than it was, and to that thought in his mind his fingers responded, so that when the ad- vertisement appeared, this particular bold-type Une read: "SEND TEN CENTS FOR A YEAR." This wonderful offer appealed with singular force to the class of readers of this particular paper, and they decided to take advantage of it. The advertisement appeared on Sunday, and Monday's first mail brought the magazine over eight hundred letters with ten cents enclosed "for a year's subscription as per your adver- tisement in yesterday's " The magazine man- agement consulted its lawyer, who advised the publisher to make the newspaper pay the extra ninety cents on each subscription, and, although this demand was at first refused, the proprietors of the daily finally jdelded. At the end of the first week eight thousand and fifty- five letters with ten cents enclosed had reached the mag- azine, and finally the total was a few over twelve thousand ! CHAPTER XIV LAST YEARS EST NEW YORK Edward Bok's lines were now to follow those of ad- vertising for several years. He was responsible for se- curing the advertisements for The Book Buyer and The Presbyierian Review. While the former was, frankly, a house-organ, its editorial contents had so broadened as to make the periodical of general interest to book- lovers, and with the subscribers constituting the valuable list of Scribner book-buyers, other publishers were eager to fish in the Scribner pond. With The Presbyterian Review, the condition was dif- ferent. A magazine issued quarterly naturally lacks the continuity desired by the advertiser; the scope of the magazine was hmited, and so was the circulation. It was a difl&cult magazine to "sell" to the advertiser, and Bok's salesmanship was taxed to the utmost. Al- though all that the pubHshers asked was that the ex- pense of getting out the periodical be met, with its two hundred and odd pages even this was difl&cult. It was not an attractive proposition. The most interesting feature of the magazine to Bok appeared to be the method of editing. It was ostensibly edited by a board, but, practically, by Professor Francis L. Patton, D.D., of Princeton Theological Seminary (afterward president of Princeton University), and Doctor Charles A. Briggs, of Union Theological Semi- 144 LAST YEARS IN NEW YORK 145 nary. The views of these two theologians differed rather widely, and when, upon several occasions, they met in Bok's office, on bringing in their different articles to go into the magazine, lively discussions ensued. Bok did not often get the drift of these discussions, but he was intensely interested in listening to the diverse views of the two theologians. One day the question of heresy came up between the two men, and during a pause in the discussion, Bok, looking for light, turned to Doctor Briggs and asked: "Doctor, what really is heresy?" Doctor Briggs, taken off his guard for a moment, looked blankly at his young questioner, and repeated: "What is heresy?" "Yes," repeated Bok, "just what is heresy, Doctor?" "That's right," interjected Doctor PattOn, with a twinkle in his eyes, "what is heresy, Briggs?" "Would you be willing to write it down for me?" asked Bok, fearful that he should not remember Doctor Briggs's definition even if he were told. And Doctor Briggs wrote: Heresy is anything in doctrine or practice that departs from the mind of the Church as officially defined. Charles A. Briggs. "Let me see," asked Doctor Patton, and when he read it, he muttered: "Hiunph, pretty broad, pretty broad." "Well," answered the nettled Doctor Briggs, "per- haps you can give a less broad definition, Patton." "No, no," answered the Princeton theologian, as the 146 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK slightest wink came from the eye nearest Bok, "I wouldn't attempt it for a moment. Too much for me." On another occasion, as the two were busy in their discussion of some article to be inserted in the magazine, Bok listening with all his might. Doctor Patton, sud- denly turning to the young listener, asked, in the midst of the argument: "Whom are the Giants g&ing to play this afternoon, Bok?" Doctor Briggs's face was a study. For a moment the drift of the question was an enigma to him: then realiz- ing that an important theological discussion had been interrupted by a trivial baseball question, he gathered up his papers and stamped violently out of the office. Doctor Patton made no comment, but, with a smile, he asked Bok: "Johnnie Ward going to play to-day, do you know? Thought I might ask Mr. Scribner if you could go up to the game this afternoon." It is unnecessary to say to which of the two men Bok was the more attracted, and when it came, each quarter, to figuring how many articles could go into the Review without exceeding the cost limit fixed by the house, it was always a puzzle to Doctor Briggs why the ma- jority of the articles left out were invariably those that he had brought in, while many of those which Doctor Patton handed in somehow found their place, upon the final assembling, among the contents. "Your articles are so long," Bok would explain. "Long?" Doctor Briggs would echo. "You don't measure theological discussions by the yardstick, young <( Perhaps not," the young assembler would maintain. LAST YEARS IN NEW YORK 147" "But we have to do some measuring here by the com- position-stick, just the same." And the Union Seminary theologian was never able, successfully, to vault that hurdle ! From his boyhood days (up to the present writing) Bok was a pronounced baseball "fan," and so Doctor Patton appealed to a warm place in the young man's heart when he asked him the questions about the New York baseball team. There was, too, a baseball team among the Scribner young men of which Bok was a part. This team played, each Saturday afternoon, a team from another publishing house, and for two sea- sons it was unbeatable. Not only was this baseball aggregation close to the hearts of the Scribner em- ployees, but, in an important game, the junior member of the firm played on it and the senior member was a spectator. Frank N. Doubleday played on first base; William D. MoflFat, later of Moffat, Yard & Company, and now editor of The Mentor, was behind the bat; Bok pitched; Ernest Dressel North, the present authority on rare editions of books, was in the field, as were also Ray Safford, now a director in the Scribner corporation, and Owen W. Brewer, at present a prominent figure in Chicago's book world. It was a happy group, all closely banded together in their business interests and in their human relations as well. With Scribner's Magazine now in the periodical field, Bok would be asked on his trips to the publishing houses to have an eye open for advertisements for that periodical as well. Hence his education in the solicitation of ad- vertisements became general, and gave him a sympa- 148 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK thetic understanding of the problems of the advertising soUcitor which was to stand him in good stead when, in his later experience, he was called upon to view the busi- ness problems of a magazine from the editor's position. His knowledge of the manufacture of the two magazines in his charge was likewise; educative, as was the fascinat- ing study of tj^ography which always had, and has to- day, a wonderful attraction for him. It was, however, in connection with the advertising of the general books of the house, and in his relations with their authors, that Bok found his greatest interest. It was for him to find the best manner in which to in- troduce to the public the books issued by the house, and the general study of the psychology of publicity which this called for attracted Bok greatly. Bok was now asked to advertise a novel published by the Scribners which, when it was issued, and for years afterward, was pointed to as a proof of the notion that a famous name was all that was necessary to ensure the acceptance of a manuscript by even a leading publishing house. The facts in the case were that this manuscript was handed in one morning by a friend of the house with the remark that he submitted it at the suggestion of the author, who did not desire that his identity should be known until after the manuscript had been read and passed upon by the house. It was explained that the writer was not a famous author; in fact, he had never written anything before; this was his first book of any sort; he merely wanted to "try his wings." The manu- script was read in due time by the Scribner readers, and the mutual friend was advised that the house would be LAST YEARS IN NEW YORK 149 glad to publish the novel, and was ready to execute and send a contract to the author if the firm knew in whose name the agreement should be made. Then came the first intimation of the identity of the author: the friend wrote that if the publishers would look in the right-hand corner of the first page of the manuscript they would find there the author's name. Search finally revealed an asterisk. The author of the novel (Valentino) was William Waldorf Astor. Although the Scribners did not publish Mark Twain's books, the humorist was a frequent visitor to the retail store, and occasionally he would wander back to the publishing department located at the rear of the store, which was then at 743 Broadway. Smoking was not permitted in the Scribner offices, and, of course, Mark Twain was always smoking. He generally smoked a granulated tobacco which he kept in a long check bag made of silk and rubber. When he sauntered to the back of the Scribner store, he would generally knock the residue from the bowl of the pipe, take out the stem, place it in his vest pocket, like a pencil, and drop the bowl into the bag containing the granulated tobacco. When he wanted to smoke again (which was usually five minutes later) he would fish out the bowl, now automatically filled with tobacco, in- sert the stem, and strike a light. One afternoon as he wandered into Bok's office, he was just putting his pipe away. The pipe, of the corncob variety, was very aged and black. Bok asked him whether it was the only pipe he had. "Oh, no," Mark answered, "I have several. But ISO THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK they're all like this. I never smoke a new corncob pipe. A new pipe irritates the throat. No corncob pipe is fit for anything until it has been used at least a fort- night." "How do you break in a pipe, then?" asked Bok. "That's the trick," answered Mark Twain. "I get a cheap man — a man who doesn't amount to much, any- how: who would be as well, or better, dead — and pay him a dollar to break in the pipe for me. I get him to smoke the pipe for a couple of weeks, then put in a new stem, and continue operations as long as the pipe holds together." Bok's newspaper syndicate work had brought him into contact with Fanny Davenport, then at the zenith of her career as an actress. Miss Davenport, or Mrs. Melbourne McDowell as she was in private Hfe, had never written for print; but Bok, seeing that she had something to say about her art and the abihty to say it, induced her to write for the newspapers through his syndicate. The actress was overjoyed to have re- vealed to her a hitherto unsuspected gift; Bok published her articles successfully, and gave her a publicity that her press agent had never dreamed of. Miss Daven- port became interested in the young pubhsher, and after watching the methods which he employed in suc- cessfully pubUshing her writings, decided to try to ob- tain his services as her assistant manager. She broached the subject, offered him a five years' contract for forty weeks' service, with a minimum of fifteen weeks each year to spend in or near New York, at a salary, for the first year, of three thousand dollars, increasing LAST YEARS IN NEW YORK 151 annually until the fifth year, when he was to receive sixty-four hundred dollars. Bok was attracted to the work: he had never seen the United States, was anxious to do so, and looked upon the chance as a good opportunity. Miss Davenport had the contract made out, executed it, and then, in high glee, Bok took it home to show it to his mother. He had reckoned without question upon her approval, only to meet with an immediate and decided negative to the proposition as a whole, general and specific. She argued that the theatrical business was not for him; and she saw ahead and pointed out so strongly the mis- take he was making that he sought Miss Davenport the next day and told her of his mother's stand. The actress suggested that she see the mother; she did, that day, and she came away from the interview a wiser if a sadder woman. Miss Davenport frankly told Bok that with such an instinctive objection as his mother seemed to have, he was right to follow her advice and the contract was not to be thought of. It is difficult to say whether this was or was not for Bok the turning-point which comes in the life of every young man. Where the venture into theatrical life would have led him no one can, of course, say. One thing is certain: Bok's instinct and reason both failed him in this instance. He believes now that had his venture into the theatrical field been temporary or permanent, the e^eiiment, either way, would have been disastrous. Looking back and viewing the theatrical profession even as it was in that day (of a much higher order than 152 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK now), he is convinced he would never have been happy in it. He might have found this out in a year or more, after the novelty of travelling had worn off, and asked release from his contract; in that case he would have broken his hne of progress in the publishing business. From whatever viewpoint he has looked back upon this, which he now believes to have been the crisis in his life, he is convinced that his mother's instinct saved him from a grievous mistake. The Scribner house, in its foreign-book department, had imported some copies of Bourrienne's Life of Na- poleon, and a set had found its way to Bok's desk for advertising purposes. He took the books home to glance them over, found himself interested, and sat up half the night to read them. Then he took the set to the editor of the New York Star, and suggested that such a book warranted a special review, and offered to leave the work for the literary editor. "You have read the books?" asked the editor. "Every word," returned Bok. "Then, why don't you write the review?" suggested the editor. This was a new thought to Bok. "Never wrote a review," he said. "Try it," answered the editor. "Write a column." "A column wouldn't scratch the surface of this book," SiUggested the embryo reviewer. "Well, give it what it is worth," returned the editor. Bok did. He wrote a page of the paper. "Too much, too much," said the editor. "Heavens, man, we've got to get some news into this paper." LAST YEARS IN NEW YORK 153 "Very well," returned the reviewer. "Read it, and cut it where you like. That's the way I see the book." And next Sunday the review appeared, word for word, as Bok had written it. His first review had successfully passed ! But Bok was really happiest in that part of his work which concerned itself with the writing of advertise- ments. The science of advertisement writing, which meant to him the capacity to say much in little space, appealed strongly. He found himself more honestly attracted to this than to the writing of his literary letter, his editorials, or his book reviewing, of which he was now doing a good deal. He determined to foHow where his bent led; he studied the mechanics of unusual ad- vertisements wherever he saw them; he eagerly sought a knowledge of t37pography and its best handMng in an advertisement, and of the value and relation of illustra- tions to text. He perceived that his work along these lines seemed to give satisfaction to his employers, since they placed more of it in his hands to do; and he sought in every way to become proficient in the art. To publishers whose advertiseipents he secured for the periodicals in his charge, he made suggestions for the improvement of their announcements, and found his suggestions accepted. He early saw the value of white space as one of the most effective factors in ad- vertising; but this was a difl&cult argument, he soon found, to convey successfully to others. A white space in an advertisement was to the average pubUsher some- thing to fiU up; Bok saw in it something to cherish for its effectiveness. But he never got very far with his 1 54 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK idea: he could not convince (perhaps because he failed to express his ideas convincingly) his advertisers of what he felt and believed so strongly. An occasion came in which he was permitted to prove his contention. The Scribners had published Andrew Carnegie's volume, Triumphant Democracy, and the author desired that some special advertising should be done in addition to that allowed by the appropriation made by the house. To Bok's grateful ears came the injunction from the steel magnate: "Use plenty of white space." In conjunction with Mr. Doubleday, Bok prepared and issued this extra advertising, and for once, at least, the wisdom of using white space was demonstrated. But it was only a flash in the pan. Publishers were unwilling to pay for "imused space," as they termed it. Each book was a separate imit, others argued: it was not like advertising one article continuously in which money could be invested; and only a limited amoimt could be spent on a book which ran its course, even at its best, in a very short time. And, rightly or wrongly, book advertising has con- tinued much along the same lines tmtU the present day. In fact, in no department of manufacturing or selUng activity has there been so little progress during the past fifty years as in bringing books to the notice of the pubUc. In all other lines, the producer has brought his wares to the public, making it easier and still easier for it to ob- tain his goods, while the public, if it wants a book, must still seek the book instead of being sought by it. That there is a tremendous unsupplied book demand in this country there is no doubt: the wider distribution LAST YEARS IN NEW YORK 155 and easier access given to periodicals prove this point. Now and then there has been tried an unsupported or not well-thought-out plan for bringing books to a public not now reading them, but there seems little or no under- standing of the fact that there lies an uncultivated field of tremendous promise to the publisher who will strike out on a new line and market his books, so that the public will not have to ferret out a book-store or wind through the maze of a department store. The Ameri- can reading public is not the book-reading public that it should be or could be made to be; but the habit must be made easy for it to acquire. Books must be placed where the public can readily get at them. It will not, of its own volition, seek them. It did not do so with magazines; it will not do so with books. In the meanwhile, Bok's literary letter had prospered until it was now published in some forty-five newspapers. One of these was the Philadelphia Times. In that paper, each week, the letter had been read by Mr. Cyrus H. K. Curtis, the owner and publisher of The Ladies^ Home Journal. Mr. Curtis had decided that he needed an editor for his magazine, in order to relieve his wife, who was then editing it, and he fixed upon the writer of Literary Leaves as his man. He came to New York, consulted Will Carleton, the poet, and found that while the letter was signed by William J. Bok, it was actually written by his brother who was with the Scribners. So he sought Bok out there. The publishing house had been advertisiog in the Philadelphia magazine, so that the visit of Mr. Curtis was not an occasion for surprise. Mr. Curtis told Bok 156 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK Be had read his literary letter in the Philadelphia Times, and suggested that perhaps he might write a similar department for The Ladies' Home Journal. Bok saw no reason why he should not, and told Mr. Curtis so, and promised to send over a trial instalment. The Philadelphia pubHsher then deftly went on, explained editorial conditions in his magazine, and, recognizing the ethics of the occasion by not offering Bok another position while he was already occup)dng one, asked him if he knew the man for the place. "Are you talking at me or through me?" asked Bok. "Both," repHed Mr. Curtis. This was in April of 1889. Bok promised Mr. Curtis he would look over the field, and meanwhile he sent over to Philadelphia the prom- ised trial "literary gossip" instalment. It pleased Mr. Curtis, who suggested a monthly department, to which Bok consented. He also turned over in his mind the wisdom of interrupting his line of progress with the Scribners, and in New York, and began to contemplate the possibilities in Philadelphia and the work there. He gathered a collection of domestic magazines then published, and looked them over to see what was al- ready in the field. Then he began to study himself, his capacity for the work, and the possibility of finding it congenial. He reaUzed that it was absolutely for- eign to his Scribner work: that it meant a radical de- parture. But his work with his newspaper S3mdicate naturally occurred to him, and he studied it with a view of its adaptation to the field of the Philadelphia magazine. LAST YEARS IN NEW YORK 157 His next step was to take into his confidence two or three friends whose judgment he trusted and discuss the possible change. Without an exception, they advised against it. The periodical had no standing, they argued; Bok would be out of sympathy with its general at- mosphere after his Scribner environment; he was now in the direct line of progress in New York pubUshing houses; and, to cap the climax, they each argued in turn, he would be buried in Philadelphia: New York was the centre, etc., etc. More than any other single argument, this last point destroyed Bok's faith in the judgment of his friends. He had had experience enough to realize that a man could not be buried in any city, provided he had the ability to stand out from his fellow-men. He knew from his biographical reading that cream wiU rise to the surface an3rwhere, in Philadelphia as well as in New York: it all depended on whether the cream was there: it was up to the man. Had he within him that peculiar, subtle something that, for the want of a better phrase, we call the editorial instinct? That was aU there was to it, and that decision had to be his and his alone ! A business trip for the Scribners now calling him. West, Bok decided to stop at Philadelphia, have a talk with Mr. Curtis, and look over his business plant. He did this, and fotmd Mr. Curtis even more desirous than before to have him consider the position. Bok's in- stinct was strongly in favor of an acceptance. A nat- ural impulse moved him, without reasoning, to action. Reasoning led only to a cautious mental state, and cau- tion is a strong factor in the Dutch character. The iiS8 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK longer he pursued a conscious process of reasoning, the farther he got from the position. But the instinct re- mained strong. On his way back from the West, he stopped in Phila- delphia again to consult his friend, George W. Childsj and here he found the only person who was ready to encourage him to make the change. Bok now laid the matter before his mother, in whose feminine instinct he had supreme confidence. With her, he met with instant discouragement. But in sub- sequent talks he found that her opposition was based not upon the possibilities inherent in the position, but on a mother's natural disinclination to be separated from one of her sons. In the case of Fanny Davenport's offer the mother's instinct was strong against the prop- osition itself. But in the present instance it was the mother's love that was speaking; not her instinct or judgment. Bok now consulted his business associates, and, to a man, they discouraged the step, but almost invariably upon the argiunent that it was suicidal to leave New York. He had now a glimpse of the truth that there is no man so provinciaUy narrow as the imtraveUed New Yorker who beUeves in his heart that the sun rises in the East River and sets in the North River. He realized more keenly than ever before that the decision rested with him alone. On September i, 1889, Bok wrote to Mr. Curtis, accepting the position in Philadelphia; and on October 13 following he left the Scribners, where he had been so fortunate and so happy, and, after a week's vacation, followed where LAST YEARS IN NEW YORK 159 his instinct so strongly led, but where his reason wavered. On October 20, 1889, Edward Bok became the editor of The Ladies' Home Journal. CHAPTER XV SUCCESSFUL EDITORSHIP There is a popular notion that the editor of a woman's magazine should be a woman. At first thought, per- haps, this sounds logical. But it is a curious fact that by far the larger number of periodicals for women, the world over, are edited by men; and where, as in some cases, a woman is the proclaimed editor, the direction of the editorial poKcy is generally in the hands of a man, or group of men, in the background. Why this is so has never been explained, any more than why the majority of women's dressmakers are men; why music, with its larger appeal to women, has been and is still being composed, largely, by men, and why its greatest instrumental performers are likewise men; and why the church, with its larger membership of women, still has, as it always has had, men for its greatest preachers. In fact, we may well ponder whether the full editorial authority and direction of a modern magazine, either essentially feminine in its appeal or not, can safely be entrusted to a woman when one considers how largely executive is the nature of such a position, and how thoroughly sensitive the modem editor must be to the hundred and one practical business matters which to- day enter into and form so large a part of the editorial duties. We may question whether women have as yet had sufficient experience in the world of business to 160 SUCCESSFUL EDITORSHIP i6i cope successfully with the material questions of a pivotal editorial position. Then, again, it is absolutely essential in the conduct of a magazine with a feminine or home appeal to have on the editorial stafiE women who are experts in their line; and the truth is that women will work infinitely better imder the direction of a man than of a woman. It would seem from the present outlook that, for some time, at least, the so-called woman's magazine of large purpose and wide vision is very likely to be edited by a man. It is a question, however, whether the day of the woman's magazine, as we have known it, is not passing. Already the day has gone for the woman's magazine buUt on the old hues which now seem so gro- tesque and feeble in the light of modern growth. The interests of women and of men are being brought closer with the years, and it wMl not be long before they wUl entirely merge. This means a constantly diminishing necessity for the distinctly feminine magazine. Naturally, there wiU always be a field in the essentially feminine pursuits which have no place in the life of a man, but these are rapidly being cared for by books, gratuitously distributed, issued by the manufacturers of distinctly feminine and domestic wares; for such pub- lications the best talent is being employed, and the re- sults are placed within easy access of women, by means of newspaper advertisement, the store-counter, or the mails. These wiU sooner or later — and much sooner than later — supplant the practical portions of the wo- man's magazine, leaving only the general contents, which are equally interesting to men and to women. Hence i62 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK the field for the magazine with the essentially feminine appeal is contracting rather than broadening, and it is likely to contract much more rapidly in the future. The field was altogether dififerent when Edward Bok entered it in 1889. It was not only wide open, but fairly crying out to be filled. The day of Godey's Lady's Book had passed; Peterson's Magazine was breathing its last; and the home or women's magazines that had attempted to take their place were sorry af- fairs. It was this consciousness of a void ready to be filled that made the Philadelphia experiment so attrac- tive to the embryo editor. He looked over the field and reasoned that if such magazines as did exist could be fairly successful, if women were ready to buy such, how much greater response would there be to a magazine of higher standards, of larger initiative — a magazine that would be an authoritative clearing-house for aU the problems confronting women in the home, that brought itself closely into contact with those problems and tried to solve them in an entertaining and efficient way; and yet a magazine of upUft and inspiration: a magazine, in other words, that would give light and leading in the woman's world. The method of editorial expression in the magazines of 1889 was also distinctly vague and prohibitively im- personal. The pubhc knew the name of scarcely a single editor of a magazine : there was no personality that stood out in the mind: the accepted editorial expression was the indefinite "we"; no one ventured to use the first person singular and talk intimately to the reader. Edward Bok's biographical reading had taught him that SUCCESSFUL EDITORSHIP 163 the American public loved a personality: that it was al- ways ready to recognize and follow a leader, provided, of course, that the qualities of leadership were demon- strated. He felt the time had come — the reference here and elsewhere is always to the realm of popular magazine literature appeaHng to a very wide audience — for the editor of some magazine to project his personality through the printed page and to convince the pubUc that he was not an oracle removed from the people, but a real human being who could talk and not merely write on paper. He saw, too, that the average popular magazine of 1889 failed of large success because it wrote down to the public — a grievous mistake that so many editors have made and still make. No one wants to be told, either - directly or indirectly, that he knows less than he does, or even that he knows as little as he does: every one is benefited by the opposite implication, and the public wiU always follow the leader who comprehends this bit of psychology. There is always a happy medium be- tween shooting over the public's head and shooting too far under it. And it is because of the latter aim that we find the modem popular magazine the worthless thing that, in so many instances, it is to-day. It is the rare editor who rightly gauges his public psychology. Perhaps that is why, in the enormous growth of the modern magazine, there have been pro- duced so few successful editors. The average editor is obsessed with the idea of "giving the public what it wants," whereas, in fact, the public, while it knows what it wants when it sees it, cannot clearly express its 1 64 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK wants, and never wants the thing that it does ask for, although it thinks it does at the time. But woe to the editor and his periodical if he heeds that siren voice ! The editor has, therefore, no means of finding it out aforehand by putting his ear to the ground. Only by the simplest rules of psychology can he edit rightly so that he may lead, and to the average editor of to-day, it is to be feared, psychology is a closed book. His mind is ail too often focussed on the circulation and ad- vertising, and all too little on the intangibles that will bring to his periodical the results essential in these respects. The editor is the pivot of a magazine. On Mm every- thing turns. If his gauge of the pubhc is correct, readers will come : they cannot help coming to the man who has something to say himself, or who presents writers who have. And if the reader comes, the advertiser must come. He must go where his largest market is: where the buyers are. The advertiser, instead of being the most diflScult factor in a magazine proposition, as is so often mistakenly thought, is, in reality, the simplest. He has no choice but to advertise in the successful peri- odical. He must come along. The editor need never worry about him. If the advertiser shuns the periodi- cal's pages, the fault is rarely that of the advertiser: the editor can generally look for the reason nearer home. One of Edward Bok's first acts as editor was to offer a series of prizes for the best answers to three questions he put to his readers: what in the magazine did they like least and why; what did they like best and why; and •what omitted feature or department would they like to SUCCESSFUL EDITORSHIP 165 see installed? Thousands of answers came, and these the editor personally read carefully and classified* Then he gave his readers' suggestions back to them in articles and departments, but never on the level suggested by them. He gave them the subjects they asked for, but invariably on a sUghtly higher plane; and each year he raised the standard a notch. He always kept "a, huckle- berry or two" ahead of his readers. His psychology was simple: come down to the level which the public sets and it will leave you at the moment you do it. It always expects of its leaders that they shall keep a notch above or a step ahead. The American public always wants something a little better than it asks for, and the successful man, in catering to it, is he who fol- lows this golden rule. CHAPTER XVI FIRST YEARS AS A WOMAN'S EDITOR Edwabd Bok has often been referred to as the one "who made The Ladies' Home Journal out of nothing," who "built it from the ground up," or, in similar terms, implying that when he became its editor in 1889 the magazine was practically non-existent. This is far from the fact. The magazine was begun in 1883, and had been edited by Mrs. Cyrus H. K. Curtis, for six years, under her maiden name of Louisa Knapp, before Bok undertook its editor^ip. Mrs. Curtis had laid a soUd foundation of principle and policy for the magazine: it had achieved a circulation of 440,000 copies a month when she transferred the editorship, and it had already acquired such a standing in the periodical world as to attract the advertisements of Charles Scribner's Sons, which Mr. Doubleday, and later Bok himself, gave to the Philadelphia magazine — advertising which was never given lightly, or without the most careful investigation of the worth of the circulation of a periodical. What every magazine pubUsher knows as the most troublous years in the establishment of a periodical, the first half-dozen years of its existence, had already been weathered by the editor and publisher. The wife as editor and the husband as pubhsher had combined to lay a solid basis upon which Bok had only to build: his task was simply to rear a structure upon the foundation already laid. It is to the vision and to the g^iius of the 166 FIRST YEARS AS A WOMAN'S EDITOR 167 first editor of The Ladies^ Home Journal that the un- precedented success of the magazine is primarily due. It was the purpose and the policy of making a magazine of authoritative service for the womanhood of America, a service which would visualize for womanhood its highest domestic estate, that had won success for the periodical from its inception. It is difficult to beUeve, in the multiplicity of similar magazines to-day, that such a purpose was new; that The Ladies' Home Journal was a path-finder; but the convincing proof is found in the fact that all the later magazines of this class have fol- lowed in the wake of the periodical conceived by Mrs. Curtis, and have ever since been its imitators. When Edward Bok succeeded Mrs. Curtis, he imme- diately encountered another popular misconception of a woman's magazine — the conviction that if a man is the editor of a periodical with a distinctly feminine ap- peal, he must, as the term goes, "understand women." If Bok had believed this to be true, he would never have assumed the position. How deeply rooted is this be- lief was brought home to him on every hand when his decision to accept the Philadelphia position was an- nounced. His mother, knowing her son better than did any one else, looked at him with amazement. She could not believe that he was serious in his decision to cater to women's needs when he knew so little about them. His friends, too, were intensely amused, and took no pains to hide their amusement from him. They knew him to be the very opposite of "a lady's man," and when they were not convulsed with hilarity they were incredulous and marvelled. 1 68 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK No man, perhaps, could have been chosen for the position who had a less intimate knowledge of women. Bok had no sister,! no women confidantes: he had lived with and for his mother. She was the only wcanan he really knew or who reaUy knew him. His boyhood days had been too fuU of poverty and struggle to per- mit him to mingle with the c^^osite sex. And it is a curious fact that Edward Bok's instinctive attitude toward women was that of avoidance. He did not dis- like women, but it could not be said that he liked them. They had never interested him. Of women, therefore, he knew little; of their needs less. Nor had he the slightest desire, even as an editor, to know them better, or to seek to understand them. Even at that age, he knew that, as a man, he could not, no matter what effort he might make, and he let it go at that. What he saw in the position was not the need to know women; he could employ women for that puipose. He perceived clearly that ti*e ecKtor of a magazine was largely an executive: his was prkic^lly the work of direction; of studying currents and movements, watch- ing their formation, their tarfaicy, tbeir efficacy if ad- vocated or translated into actuality; and then selecting from the horizon those that were for the best interests of the home. For a home was something Edward Bok did understand. He had always lived in one; had struggled to keq> it together, and he knew every inch of the hard road that makes for domestic permanence amid adverse financial conditions. And at the home he aimed rather than at the woman in it. It was upon his instinct that he intended to rely rather FIRST YEARS AS A WOMAN'S EDITOR 169 than upon any knowledge of woman. His first act in the editorial chair of The Ladies' Home Journal showed him to be right in this diagnosis of himself, for the in- cident proved not only how corrfect was his instinct, but how woefully lacking he was in any knowledge of the feminine nature. He had divined _thjtJactJ;h^^ \ .the Anaeri can mother was no t tbe confidante of her / daughter^ and reasojged_if an invitjng human p erso nality <^ could be created on the printed page that would supply ] JhisTamentaEIela cFof Arn^ cSr7aniE3rGTe"ff^rls would / floi^To"sucK~a figure. But all depended on the confidence"/ which the written word could inspire. He tried several writers, but in each case the particular touch that he sought for was lacking. It seemed so simple to him, and yet he could not translate it to others. Then, in desperation, he wrote an instalment of such a de- partment as he had in mind himself, intending to show it to a writer he had in view, thus giving her a visual demonstration. He took it to the office the next morn- ing, intending to have it copied, but the manuscript accidentally attached itself to another intended for the composing-room, and it was not until the superintendent of the composing-room during the day said to him, "I didn't know Miss Ashmead wrote," that Bok knew .where his manuscript had gone. "Miss Ashmead?" asked the puzzled editor. "Yes, Miss Ashmead in your department," was the answer. The whereabouts of the manuscript was then dis- closed, and the editor called for its return. He had I70 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK called the department "Side Talks with Girls" by Ruth Ashmead. "My girls all hope this is going into the magazine," said the superintendent when he returned the manu- script. "Why?" asked the editor. "Well, they say it's the best stuff for girls they have ever read. They'd love to know Miss Ashmead better." Here was exactly what the editor wanted, but he was the author! He changed the name to Ruth Ashmore, and decided to let the manuscript go into the magazine. He reasoned that he would then have a month in which to see the writer he had in mind, and he would show her the proof. But a month filled itself with other duties, and before the editor was aware of it, the com- position-room wanted "copy" for the second instalment of "Side Talks with Girls." Once more the editor fur- nished the copy ! Within two weeks after the second article had been written, the magazine containing the first instalment of the new department appeared, and the next day two hundred letters were received for "Ruth Ashmore," with the mail-clerk asking where they should be sent. "Leave them with me, please," replied the editor. On the following day the mail-clerk handed him five hun- dred more. The editor now took two letters from the top and opened them. He never opened the third I That evening he took the bundle home, and told his mother of his predicament. She read the letters and looked FIRST YEARS AS A WOMAN'S EDITOR 171 at her son. "You have no right to read these," she said. The son readily agreed. His instinct had correctly interpreted the need, but he never dreamed how far the feminine nature would reveal itself on paper. The next morning the editor, with his letters, took the train for New York and sought his friend, Mrs. Isabel A. MaUon, the "Bab" of his popular syndicate letter. "Have you read this department?" he asked, point- ing to the page in the magazine. "I have," answered Mrs. Mallon. "Very well done, too, it is. Who is 'Ruth Ashmore'?" "You are," answered Edward Bok, And while it took considerable persuasion, from that _time_ on Mrs^ MaUon.becamgJRjitb^Ashrnnr.ej^the most ridiculed writer ,in the magazine jKGrldj..aJi.d yet the^m^tjbelpful editor that ever conducted, a department in periodical litera- ture. For sixteen years she conducted the department, until she passed away, her last act being to dictate a letter to a correspondent. In those sixteen years she had received one hundred and fifty-eight thousand let- ters: she kept three stenographers busy, and the num- ber of girls who to-day bless the name of Ruth Ashmore is legion. But the newspaper humorists who insisted that Ruth Ashmore was none other than Edward Bok never knew the partial truth of their joke ! The editor soon supplemented this department with one dealing with the spiritual needs of the mature woman. "The King's Daughters" was then an or- 172 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK ganization at the summit of its usefulness, with Margaret Bottome its president. Edward Bok had heard Mrs. Bottome speak, had met her personally, and decided that she was the editor for the department he had in mind. "I want it written in an intimate way as if there were only two persons in the world, you and the person read- ing. I want heart to speak to heart. We wiU make that the title," said the editor, and unconsciously he thus created the title that has since become familiar wherever EngUsh is spoken: "Heart to Heart Talks." The title gave the department an instantaneous hearing; the material in it carried out its spirit, and soon Mrs. Bottome's department rivalled, in popularity, the page by Ruth Ashmore. These two departments more than an3^hing else, and the irresistible picture of a man editing a woman's magazine, brought forth an era of newspaper para- graphing and a flood of so-called "humorous" references to the magazine and editor. It became the vogue to poke fun at both. The humorous papers took it up, the cartoonists helped it along, and actors introduced the name of the magazine on the stage in plays and skits. Never did a periodical receive such an amount of gratuitous advertising. Much of the wit was ab- solutely without malice: some of it was written by Ed- ward Bok's best friends, who volunteered to "let up" would he but raise a finger. But he did not raise the finger. No one enjoyed the "paragraphs" more heartily when the wit was good, and in that case, if the writer was unknown to him, he sought FIRST YEARS AS A WOMAN'S EDITOR 173 him out axid induced him to write for him. In this way, George Fitch was found on the Peoria, lUinois, Transcript and introduced to his larger public in the magazine and book world through The Ladies^ Home Journal, whose edkor he bdieved he had "most unmercifully roasted"; — ^but he bad done it so cleverly that the editor at once saw his possibSities. When aM bfe friends begged Bok to begin proceedings against the New York Evening Sun because of the libelotis (?) axtkles written about him by "The Woman About Town, " the editor admired the style rather than the conteats, made her acquaihtance, and secured her as a r^ular writer: she contributed to the magazine some of th« best things published in its pages. But she did not abate her opinions of Bok and his magazine in her articles in the newspaper, and Bok did not ask it of her: he felt that she had a right to her opinions — those he was not buying; but he was eager to buy her direct style in treating subjects he knew no other woman could so effectively handle. And with his own linated knowledge of the sex, he needed, and none knew it better than did he, the ablest women he could obtain to help him realize his ideals. Their personal opinions of him did not matter so long as he could command their best work. Sooner or later, when his purposes were better uaderstood, they might alter those opdiBBons. For that he could afford to wait. But he could not wait to get their work. By this time the editor had come to see that the power of a magaabe might lie more securely behind the printed page than in it. He had begun to accustom his 174 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK readers to writing to his editors upon all conceivable problems. This he decided to encourage. He employed an ex- pert in each line of feminine endeavor, upon the distinct understanding that the most scrupulous attention shoidd be given to her correspondence: that every letter, no matter how inconsequential, should be answered quickly, fuUy, and courteously, with the questioner always en- couraged to come again if any problem of whatever na- ture came to her. He told his editors that ignorance on any question was a misfortxme, not a crime; and he wished their correspondence treated in the most courte- ous and helpfid spirit. Step by step, the editor buUt up this service behind the magazine imtU he had a staff of thirty-five editors on the monthly pay-roU; in each issue, he proclaimed the willingness of these editors to answer immediately any questions by mail, he encouraged and cajoled his readers to form the habit of looking upon his magazine as a great clearing-house of information. Before long, the letters streamed in by the tens of thousands during a year. The editor still encouraged, and the total ran into the hundreds of thousands, until during the. last year, before the service was finally stopped by the Great War of 1917-18, the yearly correspondence totalled nearly a million letters. The work of some of these editors never reached the printed page, and yet was vastly more important than any published matter could possibly be. Out of the work of Ruth Ashmore, for instance, there grew a class of cases of the most confidential nature. These cases, FIRST YEARS AS A WOMAN'S EDITOR 175 distributed all over the country, called for special in- vestigation and personal contact. Bok selected Mrs. Lyman Abbott for this piece of delicate work, and, through the wide acquaintance of her husband, she was enabled to reach, personally, every case in every locality, and bring personal help to bear on it. These cases mounted into the hundreds, and the good accomplished through this quiet channel cannot be overestimated. The lack of opportunity for an education in Bok's own life led him to cast about for some plan whereby an education might be obtained without expense by any one who desired. He finally hit upon the simple plan of substituting free scholarships for the premixuns then so frequently offered by periodicals for subscriptions secured. Free musical education at the leading con- servatories was first offered to any girl who would secure a certain number of subscriptions to The Ladies' Home Journal, the complete offer being a year's free tuition, with free room, free board, free piano in her own room, and all travelling expenses paid. The plan was an im- mediate success: the solicitation of a subscription by a girl desirous of educating herself made an irresistible appeal. This plan was soon extended, so as to include all the girls' colleges, and finally all the men's colleges, so that a free education might be possible at any educational institution. So comprehensive it became that to the close of 1919, one thousand four hundred and fifty- five free scholarships had been awarded. The plan has now been in operation long enough to have produced some of the leading singers and instrumental artists of 176 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK the day, whose names are familiar to all, as well as in- structors in colleges and scores of teachers; and to have sent several score of men into conspicuous podtions in the business and professional world. Edward Bok has always felt that but for his own in- ability to secure an education, and his consequent de- sire for self-improvement, the realization of the need in others might not have been so strongly felt by him, and that his plan whereby thousands of others were bene- fited might never have been realized. The editor's correspondence was revealing, among other deficiencies, the wide-spread unpreparedness of the average American girl for motheAood, and her desperate ignorance when a new life was givai her. On the theory that with the realization of a vital need there is always the person to meet it, Bdc consulted the authorities of the Babies' HosfHtal of New York, and found Doctor Emmet Holt's house physician. Doctor Emelyn L. Cool- idge. To the authorities in tiie world of babies, Bok's discovery was, of course, a known and serious fact. Doctor Coolidge proposed that the magazine create a department of questions and answers devoted to the problems of young mothers. This was done, and from the publication of the first issue the questions b^an to come in. Within five years the department had grown to such proportions that Doctor Coolidge proposed a plan whereby mothers might be instructed, by maO, in the rearing of babies — iu their general care, their feeding, and the complete hygiene of the nursery. Bok had already learned, in his editorial experience, carefully to weigh a woman's instinct against a man's FIRST YEARS AS A WOMAN'S EDITOR 177 judgment, but the idea of raising babies by mail floored him. He reasoned, however, that a woman, and more particularly one who had been in a babies' hospital for years, knew more about babies than he could possibly know. He consulted baby-specialists in New York and Philadelphia, and, with one accord, they declared the plan not only absolutely impracticable but positively dangerous. Bok's confidence in woman's instinct, how- ever, persisted, and he asked Doctor Coolidge to map out a plan. This called for the services of two physicians: Miss Marianna Wheeler, for many years superintendent of the Babies' Hospital, was to look after the prospective mother before the baby's birth; and Doctor Coolidge, when the baby was born^ would immediately send to the young mother a printed list of comprehensive questions, which, when answered, would bf^ immediately followed by a full set of directions as to the care of the child, including carefully prepared food formulae. At the end of the first month, another set of questions was to be forwarded for answer by the mother, and this monthly service was to be continued until the child reached the age of two years. The contact with the mother would then become intermittent, dependent upon the condition of mother and child. AU the direc- tions and formulae were to be used only under the direc- tion of the mother's attendant physician, so that the fullest cooperation might be established between the physician on the case and the advisory department of the magazine. Despite advice to the contrary, Bok decided, after 178 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK consulting a niunber of mothers, to establish the system. It was understood that the greatest care was to be exer- cised : the most expert advice, if needed, was to be sought and given, and the thousands of cases at the Babies' Hospital were to be laid under contribution. There was then begun a magazine department which was to be classed among the most clear-cut pieces of suc- cessful work achieved by The Ladies^ Home Journal. Seep by step, the new departure won its way, and was welcomed eagerly by thousands of young mothers. It was not long before the warmest commendation from physicians all over the country was received. Prompt- ness of response and thoroughness of diagnosis were, of course, the keynotes of the service : where the cases were urgent, the special delivery post and, later, the night- letter telegraph service were used. The plan is now in its eleventh year of successful operation. Some idea of the enormous extent of its service can be gathered from the amazing figures that, at the close of the tenth year, show over forty thousand prospective mothers have been advised, while the num- ber of babies actually "raised" by Doctor Coolidge ap- proaches eighty thousand. FuUy ninety-five of every himdred of these babies registered have remained under the monthly letter-care of Doctor Coolidge until their first year, when the mothers receive a diet list which has proved so effective for future guidance that many mothers cease to report regularly. Eighty-five out of every hundred babies have remained in the registry until their graduation at the age of two. Over eight large sets of library drawers are required for the records FIRST YEARS AS A WOMAN'S EDITOR 179 of the babies always under the supervision of the reg- istry. Scores of physicians who vigorously opposed the work at the start have amended their opinions and now not only give their enthusiastic endorsement, but have adopted Doctor CooUdge's food formulae for their private and hospital cases. It was this comprehensive personal service, built up back of the magazine from the start, that gave the peri- odical so firm and unique a hold on its clientele. It was not the printed word that was its chief power: scores of editors who have tried to study and diagnose the ap- peal of the magazine from the printed page, have re- mained baffled at the remarkable confidence elicited from its readers. They never looked back of the maga- zine, and therefore failed to discover its secret. Bok went through three financial panics with the magazine, and while other periodicals severely suffered from di- minished circulation at such times, The Ladies' Home Journal always held its own. Thousands of women had been directly helped by the magazine; it had not re- mained an inanimate printed thing, but had become a vital need in the personal lives of its readers. So intimate had become this relation, so efficient was the service rendered, that its readers could not be pried loose from it; where women were wUling and ready, when the domestic pinch came, to let go of other read- ing matter, they explained to their husbands or fathers that The Ladies' Home Journal was a necessity — they did not feel that they could do without it. The very quality for which the magazine had been held up to ridicule by iSo THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK the unknowing and unthinkiBg had become, with hun- dreds erf thousands of women, its source of power and the bidwark of its success. Bok was beginning to realize the vision whidi had lured him from New York: that of putting into the field of American magazines a periodical that should become such a clearing-house as virtually to make it an institu- tion. He felt that, for the present at least, he had suffi- ciently established the personal contact with his readers through the more intimate departments, and decided to devote his efforts to the literary features of the maga- zine. CHAPTER XVII EUGENE FIELD'S PRACTICAL JOKES Eugene Field was one of Edward Bok's close friends and also his despair, as was Mkely to be the case with those who were intimate with the Western poet. One day Field said to Bok: "I am going to make you the most widely paragraphed man in America." The edi- tor passed the remark over, but he was to recall it often as his friend set out to make his boast good. The fact that Bok was unmarried and the editor of a woman's magazine appealed strongly to Field's sense of humor. He knew the editor's opposition to patent medicines, and so he decided to join the two facts in a paragraph, put on the wire at Chicago, to the effect that the editor was engaged to be married to Miss Lavinia Pinkham, the granddaughter of Mrs. Lydia Pinkham, of patent-medicine fame. The paragraph carefully de- scribed Miss Pinkham, the school where she had been educated, her talents, her wealth, etc. Field was wise enough to put the paragraph not in his own column in the Chicago Nems, lest it be coiasidered in the light of one of his practical jokes, but an the news i>age of the paper, and he had it put on the Associated Press wire. He followed this up a few days later with a paragraph annomnci^g Bok's arrival at a Boston hotel. Thesa came a paragraph saying that Miss Pinkham was sailiaig for l82 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK Paris to buy her trousseau. The paragraphs were worded in the most matter-of-fact manner, and com- pletely fooled the newspapers, even those of Boston. Field was delighted at the success of his joke, and the fact that Bok was in despair over the letters that poured in upon him added to Field's delight. He now asked Bok to come to Chicago. "I want you to know some of my cronies," he wrote. "Julia [his wife] is away, so we will shift for ourselves." Bok arrived in Chicago one Sunday afternoon, and was to dine at Field's house that evening. He found a jolly company: James Whitcomb Riley, Sol Smith Russell the actor, Opie Read, and a nimiber of Chicago's literary men. When seven o'clock came, some one suggested to Field that something to eat might not be amiss. "Shortly," answered the poet. "Wife is out; cook is new, and dinner wiU be a Uttle late. Be patient." But at eight o'clock there was stiU no dinner. Riley began to grow suspicious and slipped down-stairs. He found no one in the kitchen and the range cold. He came back and reported. "Nonsense," said Field. "It can't be." All went down-stairs to find out the truth. "Let's get supper ourselves," suggested Russell. Then it was discovered that not a morsel of food was to be found in the refrigerator, closet, or cellar. "That's a joke on us," said Field. "Julia has left us without a crumb to eat." It was then nine o'clock. Riley and Bok held a coun- cil of war and decided to slip out and buy some food, only to find that the front, basement, and back doors EUGENE FIELD'S PRACTICAL JOKES 183 were locked and the keys missing! Field was very sober. "Thorough woman, that wife of mine," he com- mented. But his friends knew better. Finally, the Hoosier poet and the Philadelphia editor crawled through one of the basement windows and started on a foraging expedition. Of course, Field lived in a residential section where there were few stores, and on Sxmday these were closed. There was nothing to do but to board a down-town car. Finally they found a delicatessen shop open, and the two hungry men amazed the proprietor by nearly bu3dng out his stock. It was after ten o'clock when Riley and Bok got back to the house with their load of provisions to find every door locked, every curtain drawn, and the bolt sprung on every window. Only the cellar grating remained, and through this the two dropped their bundles and themselves, and appeared in the dining-room, dirty and dishevelled, to find the party at table enjoying a supper which Field had carefully hidden and brought out when they had left the house. RUey, cold and hungry, and before this time the vic- tim of Field's practical jokes, was not in a merry humor and began to recite paraphrases of Field's poems. Field retorted by paraphrasing Riley's poems, and mimicking the marked characteristics of Riley's speech. This started Sol Smith Russell, who mimicked both. The fun grew fast and furious, the entire company now took part, Mrs. Field's dresses were laid under contri- bution, and Field, Russell, and RUey gave an impromptu play. And it was upon this scene that Mrs. Field, after a continuous ringing of the door-beU and nearly battering 1 84 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK down the door, appeared at seven o'clock the next morning! It was fortunate that Eugene Field had a patient wife; she needed every ounce of patience that she could com- mand. And no one realized this more keenly than did her husband. He once told of a dream he had which illustrated the endurance of his wife. "I thought," said Field, "that I had died and gone to heaven. I had some difiSculty in getting past St. Peter, who regarded me with doubt and suspicion, and examined my records closely, but finally permitted me to enter the pearly gates. As I walked up the street of the heavenly city, I saw a venerable old man with long gray hair and flowing beard. His benignant face en- couraged me to address him. 'I have just arrived and I am entirely unacquainted,' I said. 'May I ask your name?' "'My name,' he replied, 'is Job.' "'Indeed,' I exclaimed, 'are you that Job whcan we were taught to revere as the most patient being in the world ? ' "'The same,' he said, with a shadow of hesitation; 'I did have quite a r^utation for patience once, but I hear that there is a woman now on earth, in Chicago, who has suffered more thaa I ever whereupon KipUng cabled back: "Substitute MeUin's Food." As a matter of fact (although it is a pity to kill such a clever story), no such cable was ever sent and no such reply ever received. As Kipling himself wrote to Bok: "No, I said nothing about Mellin's Food. I wish I had." An American author in London hap- pened to hear of the correspondence between the editor and the author, it appealed to his sense of humor, and the published story was the result. If it mattered, it is possible that Brander Matthews could accurately reveal the originator of the much-published yam. From Kipling's house Bok went to Timbridge Wells to visit Mary Anderson, the one-time popular American actress, who had married Antonio de Navarro and re- tired from the stage. A goodly number of editors had tried to induce the retired actress to write, just as a number of managers had tried to induce her to return to the stage. All had failed. But Bok never accepted the failure of others as a final decision for himself; and MEETING A REVERSE OR TWO 221 after two or three visits, he persuaded Madame de Na- varro to write her reminiscences, which he published with marked success in the magazine. The editor was very desirous of securing something for his magazine that would delight children, and he hit upon the idea of trying to induce Lewis Carroll to write another Alice in Wonderland series. He was told by EngUsh friends that this would be difl&cult, since the author led a secluded life at Oxford and hardly ever admitted any one into his confidence. But Bok wanted to beard the lion in his den, and an Oxford graduate volunteered to introduce him to an Oxford don through whom, if it were at all possible, he could reach the au- thor. The journey to Oxford was made, and Bok was introduced to the don, who turned out to be no less a person than the original possessor of the highly colored vocabulary of the "White Rabbit" of the Alice stories. "Impossible," immediately declared the don. "You couldn't persuade Dodgson to consider it." Bok, how- ever, persisted, and it so happened that the don liked what he called "American perseverance." "Well, come along," he said. "We'll beard the lion in his den, as you say, and see what happens. You know, of course, that it is the Reverend Charles L. Dodgson that we are going to see, and I must introduce you to that person, not to Lewis Carroll. He is a tutor in mathe- matics here, as you doubtless know; lives a rigidly se- cluded life; dislikes strangers; makes no friends; and yet withal is one of the most delightful men in the world if he wants to be." But as it happened upon this special occa^on when 222 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK Bok was introduced to him in his chambers in Tom Quad, Mr. Dodgson did not "want to be" delightful. There was no doubt that back of the studied reserve was a kindly, charming, gracious gentleman, but Bok's profession had been mentioned and the author was on rigid guard. When Bok explained that one of the special reasons for his journey from America this summer was to see him, the Oxford mathematician suflSciently softened to ask the editor to sit down. Bok then broached his mission. "You are quite in error, Mr. Bok," was the Dodgson comment. "You are not speaking to the person you think you are addressing." For a moment Bok was taken aback. Then he de- cided to go right to the point. "Do I imderstand, Mr. Dodgson, that you are not 'Lewis Carroll': that you did not write Alice in Wonder- land?" For an answer the tutor rose, went into another room, and returned with a book which he handed to Bok. "This is my book," he said simply. It was entitled An Elementary Treatise on Determinants, by C. L. Dodgson. When he looked up, Bok found the author's eyes riveted on him. "Yes," said Bok. "I know, Mr. Dodgson. If I re- member correctly, this is the same book of which you sent a copy to Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, when she wrote to you for a personal copy of your Alice." Dodgson made no comment. The face was abso- lutely without expression save a kindly compassion in- MEETING A REVERSE OR TWO 223 tended to convey to the editor that he was making a terrible mistake. "As I said to you in the beginning, Mr. Bok, you are in error. You are not speaking to 'Lewis Carroll. ' " And then: "Is this the first time you have visited Ox- ford?" Bok said it was; and there followed the most delight- fid two hours with the Oxford mathematician and the Oxford don, walking about and into the wonderful col- lege buildings, and afterward the three had a bite of lunch together. But all efforts to return to "Lewis Carroll" were futile. While saying good-by to his host, Bok remarked: "I can't help expressing my disappointment, Mr. Dodgson, in my quest in behalf of the thousands of American children who love you and who would so gladly welcome 'Lewis Carroll' back." The mention of children and their love for him mo- mentarily had its effect. For an instant a different light came into the eyes, and Bok instinctively realized Dodgson was about to say something. But he checked himself. Bok had almost caught him off his guard. "I am sorry," he finally said at the parting at the door, "that you should be disappointed, for the sake of the children as well as for your own sake. I only regret that I cannot remove the disappointment." And as the trio walked to the station, the don said: "That is his attitude toward all, even toward me. He is not 'Lewis Carroll' to any one; is extremely sensitive on the point, and will not acknowledge his identity. That is why he lives so much to himself. He is in daily 224 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK dread that some one will mention Alice in his presence. Curious, but there it is." Edward Bok's next quest was to be even more disap- pointing; he was never even to reach the presence of the person he sought. This was Florence Nightingale, the Crimean nurse. Bok was desirous of securing her own story of her experiences, but on every hand he found an unwillingness even to take him to her house. "No use," said everybody, "She won't see any one. Hates publicity and all that sort of thing, and shuns the pub- lic." Nevertheless, the editor journeyed to the famous nurse's home on South Street, in the West End of Lon- don, only to be told that "Miss Nightingale never re- ceives strangers." "But I am not a stranger," insisted the editor. "I am one of her friends from America. Please take my card to her." This mollified the faithful secretary, but the word instantly came back that Miss Nightingale was not re- ceiving any one that day. Bok wrote her a letter asking for an appointment, which was never answered. Then he wrote another, took it personally to the house, and awaited an answer, only to receive the message that "Miss Nightingale says there is no answer to the let- ter." Bok had with such remarkable uniformity secured whatever he sought, that these experiences were new to him. Frankly, they puzzled him. He was not easily baflSed, but baflBed he now was, and that twice in suc- cession. Turn as he might, he could find no way in which to reopen an approach to either, the Oxford tutor MEETING A REVERSE OR TWO 225 or the Crimean nurse. They were plainly too much for him, and he had to acknowledge his defeat. The experi- ence was good for him; he did not reaUze this at the time, nor did he enjoy the sensation of not getting what he wanted. Nevertheless, a reverse or two was due. Not that his success was having any undesirable effect upon him; his Dutch common sense saved him from any such calamity. But at thirty years of age it is not good for any one, no matter how weU balanced, to have things come his way too fast and too consistently. And hera were breaks. He could not have everything he wanted, and it was just as well that he should find that out. In his next quest he found himself again opposed by his London friends. Unable to secure a new Alice in Wonderland for his child readers, he determined to give them Kate Greenaway. But here he had selected an- other recluse. Everybody discouraged him. The artist never saw visitors, he was told, and she particularly shunned editors and publishers. Her own publishers qonfessed that Miss Greenaway was inaccessible to them. "We conduct aU our business with her by correspon- dence. I have never seen her personally myself," said a member of the firm. Bok inwardly decided that two failures in two days were sufficient, and he made up his mind that there should not be a third. He took a bus for the long ride to Hampstead Heath, where the illustrator Uved, and finally stood before a picturesque Queen Anne house that one would have recognized at once, with its lower story of red brick, its upper part covered with red tiles, its windows of every size and shape, as the inspiration 226 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK of Kate Greenaway's pictures. As it turned out later, Miss Greenaway's sister opened the door and told the visitor that Miss Greenaway was not at home. "But, pardon me, has not Miss Greenaway returned? Is not that she?" asked Bok, as he indicated a figure just coming down the stairs. And as the sister turned to see, Bok stepped into the hall. At least he was in- side ! Bok had never seen a photograph of Miss Green- away, he did not know that the figure coming down- stairs was the artist; but his instinct had led him right, and good fortune was with him. He now introduced himself to Kate Greenaway, and explained that one of his objects in coming to London was to see her on behalf of thousands of American children. Naturally there was nothing for the illus- trator to do but to welcome her visitor. She took him into the garden, where he saw at once that he was seated imder the apple-tree of Miss Greenaway's pictures. It was in fuU bloom, a veritable picture of spring loveliness. Bok's love for nature pleased the artist and when he recognized the cat that saimtered up, he could see that he was making headway. But when he explained his profession and stated his errand, the atmosphere in- stantly changed. Miss Greenaway conveyed the un- mistakable impression that she had been trapped, and Bok reahzed at once that he had a long and difficult road ahead. Still, negotiate it he must and he did! And after luncheon in the garden, with the cat in his lap, Miss Greenaway perceptibly thawed out, and when the editor left late that afternoon he had the promise of the artist MEETING A REVERSE OR TWO 227 that she would do her first magazine work for him. That promise was kept monthly, and for nearly two years her articles appeared, with satisfaction to Miss Greenaway and with great success to the magazine. The next opposition to Bok's plans arose from the soreness generated by the absence of copyright laws between .the United States and Great Britain and Eu- rope. The editor, who had been pubUshing a series of musical compositions, soUcited the aid of Sir Arthur Sullivan. But it so happened that Sir Arthur's most famous composition, "The Lost Chord," had been taken without leave by American music publishers, and sold by the hxmdreds of thousands with the composer left out on pay-day.. Sir Arthur held forth on this injustice, and said further that no accurate copy of "The Lost Chord" had, so far as he knew, ever been printed in the United States. Bok saw his chance, and also an op- portunity for a little Americanization. "Very well. Sir Arthur," suggested Bok; "with your consent, I will rectify both the inaccuracy and the in- justice. Write out a correct version of 'The Lost Chord'; I will give it to nearly a million readers, and so render obsolete the incorrect copies; and I shall be only too happy to pay you the first honorarium for an American publication of the song. You can add to the copy the statement that this is the first American honorarium you have ever received, and so shame the American publishers for their dishonesty." This argtmient appealed strongly to the composer, who made a correct transcript of his famous song, and published it with the following note: 2 28 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK This is the first and only copy of "The Lost Chord" which has ever been sent by me to an American publisher. I be- lieve all the reprints in America are more or less incorrect. I have pleasure in sending this copy to my friend, Mr. Ed- ward W. Bok, for publication in The Ladies' Home Journal for which he gives me an honorarium, the only one I have ever received from an American publisher for this song. Arthur Sullivan. At least, thought Bok, he had healed one man's sore- ness toward America. But the next day he encoun- tered another. On his way to Paris, he stopped at Amiens to see Jules Verne. Here he found special difficulty in that the aged author could not speak Eng- lish, and Bok knew only a few words of casual French. Finally a neighbor's servant who knew a handful of English words was commandeered, and a halting three- cornered conversation was begun. Bok found two grievances here: the author was in- censed at the American public because it had insisted on classing his books as juveniles, and accepting them as stories of adventure, whereas he desired them to be recognized as prophetic stories based on scientific facts — an insistence which, as all the world knows, has since been justified. Bok explained, however, that the popu- lar acceptance of the author's books as stories of ad- venture was by no means confined to America; that even in his own country the same was true. But Jules Verne came back with the rejoinder that if the French were a pack of fools, that was no reason why the Ameri- cans should also be. The argument weighed somewhat with the author, MEETING A REVERSE OR TWO 229 however, for he then changed the conversation, and pointed out how he had been robbed by American publishers who had stolen his books. So Bok was once more face to face with the old non-copyright conditions; and although he explained the existence then of a new protective law, the old man was not mollified. He did not take kindly to Bok's suggestion for new work, and closed the talk, extremely difficult to all three, by de- claring that his writing days were over. But Bok was by no means through with non-copyright echoes, for he was destined next day to take part in an even stormier interview on the same subject with Alex- ander Jyumas fits. Bok had been publishing a series of articles in which authors had told how they had been led to write their most famous books, and he wanted Dumas to tell "How I Came to Write 'Camille.'" To act as translator this time, Bok took a trusted friend with him, whose services he found were needed, as Dumas was absolutely without knowledge of English. No sooner was the editor's request made known to him than the storm broke. Dumas, hotly excited, denoimced the Americans as robbers who had deprived him of his rightful returns on his book and play, and ended by declaring that he would trust no American editor or publisher. The mutual friend explained the new copyright con- ditions and declared that Bok intended to treat the author honorably. But Dumas was not to be molli- fied. He laimched forth upon a new arraignment of the Americans; dishonesty was bred in their bones! and they were robbers by instinct. All of this dis- 230 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK tinctly nettled Bok's Americanism. The interpreting friend finally suggested that the article should be writ- ten while Bok was in Paris; that he should be notified when the manuscript was ready, that he should then appear with the actual money in hand in French notes; and that Dumas should give Bok the manuscript when Bok handed Dumas the money. "After I count it," said Dumas. This was the last straw ! "Pray ask him," Bok suggested to the interpreter, "what assurance I have that he will deliver the manu- script to me after he has the money." The friend pro- tested against translating this thrust, but Bok insisted, and Dumas, not knowing what was coming, insisted that the message be given him. When it was, the man was a study; he became livid with rage. "But," persisted Bok, "say to Monsieur Dumas that I have the same privilege of distrusting him as he ap- parently has of distrusting me." And Bok can stiU see the violent gesticvilations of the storming French author, his face burning with passion- ate anger, as the two left him. Edward Bok now sincerely hoped that his encounters v/ith the absence of a law that has been met were at an end! Rosa Bonheur, the painter of "The Horse Fair," had been represented to Bok as another recluse who was as inaccessible as Kate Greenaway. He had known of the painter's intimate relations with the ex-Empress Eu- genie, and desired to get these reminiscences. Every- body dissuaded him; but again taking a French friend he made the journey to Fontainebleau, where the artist lived in a chS,teau in the little village of By. MEETING A REVERSE OR TWO 231 A group of dogs, great, magnificent tawny creatures, welcomed the two visitors to the chateau; and the most powerful door that Bok had ever seen, as securely bolted as that of a cell, told of the inaccessibility of the mistress of the house. Two blue-frocked peasants explained how impossible it was for any one to see their mistress, so Bok asked permission to come in and write her a note. This was granted; and then, as in the case of Kate Greenaway, Rosa Bonheur herself walked into the hall, in a velvet jacket, dressed, as she always was, in man's attire. A deUghtful smile lighted the strong face, sur- mounted by a shock of gray hair, cut short at the back; and from the moment of her first welcome there was no doubt of her cordiality to the few who were fortunate enough to work their way into her presence. It was a wonderful afternoon, spent in the painter's studio in the upper part of the cha,teau; and Bok carried away with him the promise of Rosa Bonheur to write the story of her life for publication in the magazine. On his return to London the editor found that Charles Dana Gibson had settled down there for a time. Bok had always wanted Gibson to depict the characters of Dickens; and he felt that this was the opportunity, while the artist was in London and could get the at- imosphere for his work. Gibson was as keen for the idea as was Bok, and so the two arrangej^ the series which was subsequently pubhshed. On his way to his steamer to sail for home, Bok visited "Ian Maclaren," whose Bonnie Brier Bush stories were then in great vogue, and not only contracted for Doctor Watson's stories of the immediate future, but arranged 232 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK with him for a series of articles which, for two years thereafter, was published in the magazine. The editor now sailed for home, content with his as- sembly of foreign "features." On the steamer, Bok heard of the recent discovery of some unpubhshed letters by Louisa May Alcott, written to five girls, and before returning to Philadelphia, he went to Boston, got into touch with the executors of the wiU of Miss Alcott, brought the letters back with him to read, and upon reaching Philadelphia, wired his acceptance of them for publication. But the traveller was not at once to enjoy his home. After only a day in Philadelphia he took a train for IndianapoHs. Here lived the most thoroughly Ameri- can writer of the day, in Bok's estimation: James Whit- comb Riley. An arrangement, perfected before his European visit, had secured to Bok practically exclusive rights to aU the output of his Chicago friend Eugene Field, and he felt that Riley's work would admirably complement that of Field. This Bok explained to Riley, who readily fell in with the idea, and the editor returned to Philadelphia with a contract to see Riley's next dozen poems. A httle later Field passed away. His last poem, "The Dream Ship," and his posthumous story "The Werewolf" appeared in The Ladies^ Home Journal. A second series of articles was also arranged for with Mr. Harrison, in which he was to depict, in a personal way, the life of a President of the United States, the domestic Ufe of the White House, and the financial ar- rangements made by the government for the care of the chief executive and his family. The first series of articles MEETING A REVERSE OR TWO 233 bj' the former President had been very successful; Bok felt that they had accomplished much in making his women readers familiar with their country and the machinery of its government. After this, which had been imdeniably solid reading, Bok' reasoned that the supplementary articles, in lighter vein, would serve as a sort of dessert. And so it proved. Bok now devoted his attention to strengthening the fiction in his magazine. He sought Mark Twain, and bought his two new stories; he secured from Bret Harte a tale which he had just finished; and then ran the gamut of the best fiction writers of the day, and secured their best output. Marion Crawford, Conan Doyle, Sarah Ome Jewett, John Kendrick Bangs, Kate Douglas Wiggin, Hamlin Garland, Mrs. Burton Harrison, Eliza- beth Stuart Phelps, Mary E. Wilkins, Jerome K. Jerome, Anthony Hope, Joel Chandler Harris, and others fol- lowed in rapid succession. He next turned for a moment to his religious depart- ment, decided that it needed a freshening of interest, and secured Dwight L. Moody, whose evangelical work was then so prominently in the public eye, to conduct "Mr. Moody's Bible Class" in the magazine — ^practi- cally a study of the stated Bible lesson of the month with explanation in Moody's siipple and effective style. The authors for whom the Journal was now pub- lishing attracted the attention of all the writers of the day, and the supply of good material became too great for its capacity. Bok studied the mechanical make- up, and felt that by some method he must find more room in the front portion. He had allotted the first 234 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK third of the magazine to the general literary contents and the latter two-thirds to departmental features. Toward the close of the number, the departments nar- rowed down from fvdl pages to single co-umns with advertisements on each side. One day Bok was handHng a story by Rudyard Kip- ling which had overrun the space allowed for it in the front. The story had come late, and the rest of the front portion of the magazine had gone to press. The editor was in a quandary what to do with the two remaining columns of the Kipling tale. There were only two pages open, and these were at the back. He remade those pages, and continued the story from pages 6 and 7 to pages 38 and 39. At once Bok saw that this was an instance where "necessity was the mother of invention." He realized that if he could run some of his front material over to the back he would relieve the pressure at the front, present a more varied contents there, and make his ad- vertisements more valuable by putting them next to the most expensive material in the magazine. In the next issue he combined some of his smaller departments in the back; and thus, in 1896, he inaugu- rated the method of "running over into the back" which has now become a recognized principle in the make-up of magazines of larger size. At first, Bok's readers objected, but he explained why he did it; that they were the benefiters by the plan; and, so far as readers can be satisfied with what is, at best, an awk- ward method of presentation, they were content. To- MEETING A REVERSE OR TWO 235 day the practice is undoubtedly followed to excess, some magazines carr3dng as much as eighty and ninety columns over from the front to the back; from such abuse it wUl, of course, free itself either by a return to the original method of make-up or by the adoption of some other less-irritatmg plan. In his reading about the America of the past, Bok had been impressed by the unusual amoimt of interest- ing personal material that constituted what is termed unwritten history — original events of tremendous per- sonal appeal in which great personalities figured but which had not sufficient historical importance to have been included in American history. Bok determined to please his older readers by harking back to the past and at the same time acquainting the younger genera- tion with the picturesque events which had preceded their time. He also believed that if he could "dress up" the past, he could arrest the attention of a generation which was too likely to boast of its interest only in the present and the future. He took a course of reading and consulted with Mr. Charles A. Dana, editor of the New York Sun, who had become interested in his work and had written him several voluntary letters of commendation. Mr. Dana gave material help in the selection of subjects and writers; and was intensely amused and interested by the manner in which his youthful confrere "dressed up" the titles of what might otherwise have looked like commonplace articles. "I know," said Bok to the elder editor, "it smacks 236 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK a little of the sensational, Mr. Dana, but the purpose I have in mind of showing the young people of to-day that some great things happened before they came on the stage seems to me to make it worth while," Mr. Dana agreed with this view, supplemented every effort of the Philadelphia editor in several subsequent talks, and in 1897 The Ladies' Home Journal began one of the most popular series it ever published. It was called "Great Personal Events," and the picturesque titles explained them. He first pictured the enthusiastic evening "When Jenny Lind Sang in Castle Garden," and, as Bok added to pique curiosity, "when people paid $20 to sit in rowboats to hear the Swedish night- ingale." This was followed by an account of the astonishing episode "When Henry Ward Beecher Sold Slaves in Plymouth Pulpit"; the picturesque journey "When Louis Kossuth Rode Up Broadway"; the triumphant tour "When General Grant Went Round the World"; the forgotten story of "When an Actress Was the Lady of the White House"; the sensational striking of the gold vein in 1849, "When Mackay Struck the Great Bonanza"; the hitherto little-known instance "When Louis Philippe Taught School in Philadelphia"; and even the lesser-known fact of the residence of the brother of Napoleon Bonaparte in America, "When the King of Spain Lived on the Banks of the Schuylkill"; while the story of "When John Wesley Preached in Georgia" surprised nearly every Methodist, as so few had known that the founder of their church had ever visited America. Each month picturesque event followed graphic hap- MEETING A REVERSE OR TWO 237 pening, and never was unwritten history more readily read by the young, or the memories of the older folk more catered to than in this series which won new friends for the magazine on every hand. CHAPTER XXI A SIGNAL PIECE OF CONSTRUCTIVE WORK The influence of his grandfather and the injunction of his grandmother to her sons that each "shovdd make the world a better or a more beautiful place to live in" now began to be manifest in the grandson. Edward Bok was unconscious that it was this influence. What directly led him to the signal piece of construction in which he engaged was the wretched architecture of small houses. As he travelled through the United States he was appalled by it. Where the houses were not positively ugly, they were, to him, repellendy ornate. Money was wasted on useless turrets, filigree work, or machine-made ornamentation. Bok found out that these small householders never employed an architect, but that the houses were put up by builders from their own plans. Bok felt a keen desire to take hold of the small Ameri- can house and make it architecturally better. He fore- saw, however, that the subject would finally include small gardening and interior decoration. He feared that the subject would become too large for the magazine, which was already feeling the pressure of the material which he was securing. He suggested, therefore, to Mr. Curtis that they purchase a little magazine published in Buffalo, N. Y., called Country Life, and develop it 238 A SIGNAL PIECE OF CONSTRUCTIVE WORK 239 into a first-class periodical devoted to the general subject of a better American architecture, gardening, and interior decoration, with special application to the small house. The magazine was purchased, and while Bok was collecting his material for a number of issues ahead, he edited and issued, for copyright purposes, a four-page magazine. An opportunity now came to Mr. Curtis to purchase The Saturday Evening Post, a Philadelphia weekly of honored prestige, founded by Benjamin Franklin. It was apparent at once that the company could not em- bark upon the development of two magazines at the same time, and as a larger field was seen for The Satur- day Evening Post, it was decided to leave Country Life in abeyance for the present. Mr. Frank Doubleday, having left the Scribners and started a publishing-house of his own, asked Bok to transfer to him the copyright and good will of Country Life — seeing that there was httle chance for The Curtis Publishing Company to undertake its publication. Mr. Curtis was willing, but he knew that Bok had set his heart on the new magazine and left it for him to decide. The editor realized, as the Doubleday Company could take up the magazine at once, the unfairness of holding indefinitely the field against them by the pub- lication of a mere copyright periodical. And so, with a feeling as if he were giving up his child to another father, Bok arranged that The Curtis Publishing Com- pany should transfer to the Doubleday, Page Company all rights to the title and periodical of which the present beautiful publication Country Life is the outgrowth. 240 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK Bok now turned to The Ladies^ Home Journal as his medium for making the small-house architecture of America better. He realized the limitation of space, but decided to do the best he could under the circum- stances. He believed he might serve thousands of his readers if he could make it possible for them to secure, at moderate cost, plans for weU-designed houses by the leading domestic architects in the country. He con- sulted a number of architects, only to find them unalter- ably opposed to the idea. They disliked the publicity of magazine presentation; prices differed too much in various parts of the country; and they did not care to risk the criticism of their contemporaries. It was "cheapening" their profession! Bok saw that he should have to blaze the way and demonstrate the futility of these arguments. At last he persuaded one architect to co-operate with him, and in 1895 began the pubUcation of a series of houses which could be built, approximately, for from one thousand five hundred dollars to five thousand dollars. The idea attracted attention at once, and the architect-author was swamped with letters and inquiries regarding his plans. This proved Bok's instinct to be correct as to the public willingness to accept such designs; upon this proof he succeeded in winning over two additional architects to make plans. He offered his readers fuU building specifi- cations and plans to scale of the houses with estimates from four builders in different parts of the United States for five dollars a set. The plans and specifica- tions were so complete in every detail that any builder could build the house from them. A SIGNAL PIECE OF CONSTRUCTIVE WORK 241 A storm of criticism now arose from architects and builders aU over the country, the architects claiming that Bok was taking "the bread out of their mouths" by the sale of plans, and local builders vigorously ques- tioned the accuracy of the estimates. But Bok knew he was right and persevered. Slowly but surely he won the approval of the leading architects, who saw that he was appealing to a class of house-builders who could not afford to pay an archi- tect's fee, and that, with his wide circulation, he might become an influence for better architecture through these small houses. The sets of plans and specifications sold by the thousands. It was not long before the magazine was able to present small-house plans by the foremost architects of the country, whose services the average householder could otherwise never have dreamed of securing. Bok not only saw an opportunity to better the exterior of the small houses, but he determined that each plan published should provide for two essentials: every ser- vant's room should have two windows to insure cross- ventilation, and contain twice the number of cubic feet usually given to such rooms; and in place of the Amer- ican parlor, which he considered a useless room, should be substituted either a living-room or a library. He did not point to these improvements; every plan simply presented the larger servant's room and did not present a parlor. It is a singular fact that of the tens of thou- sands of plans sold, not a purchaser ever noticed the absence of a parlor except one woman in Brookline, Mass., who, in erecting a group of twenty-five "Journal 242 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK houses," discovered after she had built ten that not one contained a parlor ! "Ladies' Home Journal houses" were now going up in communities all over the country, and Bok determined to prove that they could be erected for the prices given. Accordingly, he published a prize offer of generous amount for the best set of exterior and interior photo- graphs of a house built after a Journal plan within the published price. Five other and smaller prizes were also offered. A legally attested builder's declaration was to accompany each set of photographs. The sets immediately began to come in, until over five thousand had been received. Bok selected the best of these, awarded the prizes, and began the presentation of the houses actually built after the pubHshed plans. Of course this publication gave fresh impetus to the whole scheme; prospective house-builders pointed their builders to the proof given, and additional thousands of sets of plans were sold. The little houses became better and better in architecture as the series went on, and oc- casionally a plan for a house costing as high as ten thou- sand dollars was given. For nearly twenty-five years Bok continued to pub- lish pictures of houses and plans. Entire colonies of "Ladies' Home Journal houses" have sprung up, and building promoters have built complete suburban de- velopments with them. How many of these homes have been erected it is, of course, impossible to say; the num- ber certainly runs into the thousands. It was one of the most constructive and far-reaching pieces of work that Bok did during his editorial career^ a fact now recognized by all architects. Shortly before A SIGNAL PIECE OF CONSTRUCTIVE WORK 243 Stanford White passed away, he wrote: "I firmly be- Ueve that Edward Bok has more completely influenced American domestic architecture for the better than any man in this generation. When he began, I was short- sighted enough to discourage him, and refused to co- operate with him. If Bok came to me now, I would not only make plans for him, but I would waive any fee for them in retribution for my early mistake." Bok then turned to the subject of the garden for the small house, and the development of the grounds around the homes which he had been instrumental in putting on the earth. He encountered no opposition here. The publication of small gardens for small houses finally ran into himdreds of pages, the magazine supplying planting plans and fufl directions as to when and how to plant — this time without cost. Next the editor decided to see what he could do for the better and simpler furnishing of the small American home. Here was a field almost limitless in possible im- provement, but he wanted to approach it in a new way. The best metiiod baffled him tmtil one day he met a woman friend who told him that she was on her way to a funeral at a friend's home. "I didn't know you were so well acquainted with Mrs. S ," said Bok. "I wasn't, as a matter of fact," replied the woman. "I'U be perfectly frank; I am going to the fimeral just to see how Mrs. S 's house is furnished. She was always thought to have great taste, you know, and, whether you know it or not, a woman is always keen to look into another woman's home." Bok realized that he had found the method of pres- 244 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK entation for his interior-fumisbing plan if he could se- cure photographs of the most carefully furnished homes in America. He immediately employed the best avail- able expert, and within six months there came to him an assorted collection of over a thousand photographs of well-furnished rooms. The best were selected, and a series of photographic pages called "Inside of loo Homes" was begun. The editor's woman friend had correctly pointed the way to him, for this series won for his magazine the enviable distinction of being the first magazine of standing to reach the then marvellous record of a circulation of one million copies a month. The edi- tions containing the series were sold out as fast as they could be printed. The editor followed this up with another successful series, again pictorial. He realized that to explain good taste in furnishing by text was almost impossible. So he started a series of aU-picture pages called "Good Taste and Bad Taste." He presented a chair that was bad in lines and either useless or imcomfortable to sit in, and explained where and why it was bad; and then put a good chair next to it, and explained where and why it was good. The lesson to the eye was simply and directly effec- tive; the pictures told their story as no printed word could have done, and furniture manufacturers and dealers all over the country, feeling the pressure from their customers, began to put on the market the tables, chairs, divans, bedsteads, and dressing-tables which the magazine was portrasang as examples of good taste. It was amazing that, within five years, the physical ap- A SIGNAL PIECE OF CONSTRUCTIVE WORK 245 pearance of domestic furniture in the stores completely changed. The next undertaking was a systematic plan for im- proving the pictures on the walls of the American home. Bok was employing the best artists of the day: Edwin A. Abbey, Howard Pyle, Charles Dana Gibson, W. L. Taylor, Albert Lynch, Will H. Low, W. T. Smedley, Irving R. Wiles, and others. As his magazine was rolled to go through the mails, the pictures naturally suffered; Bok therefore decided to print a special edition of each important picture that he published, an edition on plate-paper, without text, and offered to his readers at ten cents a copy. Within a year he had sold nearly one hundred thousand copies, such pictures as W. L. Taylor's "The Hanging of the Crane" and "Home-Keeping Hearts" being particularly popular. Pictures were difficult to advertise successfully; it was before the full-color press had become practicable for rapid magazine work; and even the large-page black-and-white reproductions which Bok could give in his magazine did not, of course, show the beauty of the original paintings, the majority of which were in fuU color. He accordingly made arrangements with art publishers to print his pictures in their original col- ors; then he determined to give the public an oppor- tunity to see what the pictures themselves looked like. He asked his art editor to select the two hundred and fifty best pictures and frame them. Then he engaged the art gallery of the Philadelphia Art Club, and ad- vertised an exhibition of the original paintings. No admission was charged. The gallery was put into gala 246 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK attire, and the pictures were well hung. The exhibition, which was continued for two weeks, was visited by over fifteen thousand persons. His success here induced Bok to take the collection to New York. The galleries of the American Art As- sociation were offered him, but he decided to rent the ballroom of the Hotel Waldorf. The hotel was then new; it was the talk not only of the town but of the country, while the balkoom had been pictured far and wide. It would have a publicity value. He could secure the room for only four days, but he determined to make the most of the short time. The exhibition was well advertised; a "private view" was given the evening before the opening day, and when, at nine o'clock the fol- lowing morning, the doors of the exhibition were thrown open, over a thousand persons were waiting in line. The hotel authorities had to resort to a special cordon of police to handle the crowds, and within four days over seventeen thousand persons had seen the pictures. On the last evening it was after midnight before the doors could be closed to the waiting-line. Boston was next visited, and there, at the Art Club Gallery, the pre- vious successes were repeated. Within two weeks over twenty-eight thousand persons visited the exhibition. Other cities now clamored for a sight of the pictures, and it was finally decided to end the exhibitions by a visit to Chicago. The success here exceeded that in any of the other cities. The banquet-hall of the Auditorium Hotel had been engaged; over two thousand persons were continually in a waiting-line outside, and within a week nearly thirty thousand persons pushed and jostled them- A SIGNAL PIECE OF CONSTRUCTIVE WORK 247 selves into the gallery. Over eighty thousand persons in all had viewed the pictures in the four cities. The exhibition was immediately followed by the pub- lication of a portfolio of the ten pictures that had proved the greatest favorites. These were printed on plate- paper and the portfolio was offered by Bok to his read- ers for one dollar. The first thousand sets were ex- hausted within a fortnight. A second thousand were printed, and these were quickly sold out. Bok's next enterprise was to get his pictures into the homes of the country on a larger scale; he determined to work through the churches. He selected the fifty best pictures, made them into a set and offered first a hundred sets to selected schools, which were at once taken. Then he offered two hundred and fifty sets to churches to seM at their fairs. The managers were to promise to erect a Ladies' Home Journal booth (which Bok knew, of course, would be most effective advertis- ing), and tiie pictures were to seH at twenty-five and fifty cents each, with some at a dollar each. The set was offered to the churches for five dollars: the actual cost of reproduction and expressage. On the day after the publication of the magazine containing the offer, enough telegraphic orders were received to absorb the entire edition. A second edition was immediately printed; and finally ten editions, four thousand sets in al, were absorbed before the demand was filled. By this method, two hundred thousand pictures had been introduced into American homes, and over one hundred and fifty thousand dollars in money had been raised by the churches as their portion. 248 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK But all this was simply to lead up to the realization of Bok's cherished dream: the reproduction, in enormous numbers, of the greatest pictures in the world in their original colors. The plan, however, was not for the moment feasible: the cost of the four-color process was at that time prohibitive, and Bok had to abandon it. But he never lost sight of it. He knew the hour would come when he could carry it out, and he bided his time. It was not until years later that his opportunity came, when he immediately made up his mind to seize it. The magazine had installed a battery of four-color presses; the color- work in the periodical was attracting universal attention, and after aU stages of experimentation had been passed, Bok decided to make his dream a reaUty. He sought the co-operation of the owners of the greatest private art galleries in the country: J. Pierpont Morgan, Henry C. Frick, Joseph E. Widener, George W. Elkins, John G. Johnson, Charles P. Taft, Mrs. John L. Gardner, Charles L. Freer, Mrs. Havemeyer, and the owners of the Benjamin Altman Collection, and sought permis- sion to reproduce their greatest paintings. Although each felt doubtful of the ability of any proc- ess adequately to reproduce their masterpieces, the owners heartily co-operated with Bok. But Bok's co- editors discouraged his plan, since it would involve endless labor, the exclusive services of a corps of pho- tographers and engravers, and the employment of the most careful pressmen available in the United States. The editor realized that the obstacles were numerous A SIGNAL PIECE OF CONSTRUCTIVE WORK 249 and that the expense would be enormous; but he felt sure that the American public was ready for his idea. And early in 191 2 he announced his series and began its publication. The most wonderful Rembrandt, Velasquez, Turner, Hobbema, Van Dyck, Raphael, Frans Hals, Romney, Gainsborough, Whistler, Corot, Mauve, Vermeer, Fra- gonard, Botticelli, and Titian reproductions followed in such rapid succession as fairly to daze the magazine readers. Four pictures were given in each number, and the faithfulness of the reproductions astonished even their owners. The success of the series was beyond Bok's own best hopes. He was printing and selling one and three-quarter million copies of each issue of his magaane; and before he was through he had presented to American homes throughout the breadth of the country over seventy million reproductions of forty separate master- pieces of art. The dream of years had come true. Bok had begun with the exterior of the small Ameri- can house and made an impression upon it; he had brought the love of flowers into the hearts of thousands of small householders who had never thought they could have an artistic garden within a small area; he had changed the lines of furniture, and he had put better art on the walls of these homes. He had conceived a full-roimded scheme, and he had carried it out. It was a pecuUar satisfaction to Bok that Theodore Roosevelt once summed up this piece of work in these words: "Bok is the only man I ever heard of who 2 so THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK changed, for the better, the architecture of an entire nation, and he did it so quickly and yet so eflEectively that we didn't know it was begun before it was finished. That is a mighty big job for one man to have done." CHAPTER XXII AN ADVENTURE IN CIVIC AND PRIVATE ART Edwaio) Bok now turned his attention to those in- fluences of a more pubUc nature which he felt could contribute to elevate the standard of public taste. He was surprised, on talking with furnishers of homes, to learn to what extent women whose husbands had recently acquired means would refer to certain styles of decoration and hangings which they had seen in the Pullman parlor-cars. He had never seriously regarded the influence of the furnishing of these cars upon the travelling pubUc; now he realized that, in a decorative sense, they were a distinct factor and a very imfortunate one. For in those days, twenty years ago, the decoration of the Pullman parlor-car was atrocious. Colors were in riotous discord; every foot of wood-panelling was carved and ornamented, nothing being left of the grain of even the most beautiful woods; gilt was recklessly laid on ever)rwhere regardless of its fitness or relation. The hangings in the cars were not only in bad taste, but dis- tinctly unsanitary; the heaviest velvets and showiest plushes were used; mirrors with bronzed and red- plushed frames were the order of the day; cord portieres, lambreqiuns, and tasseUed fringes were still in vogue in these cars. It was a veritable riot of the worst con- ceivable ideas; and it was this standard that these 251 252 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK women of the new-money class were accepting and in- troducing into their homes ! Bok wrote an editorial calling attention to these facts. The Pullman Company paid no attention to it, but the railroad journals did. With one accord they seized the cudgel which Bok had raised, and a series of hammerings began. The Pullman conductors be- gan to report to their division chiefs that the passengers were criticising the cars, and the company at last woke up. It issued a cynical rejoinder; whereupon Bok wrote another editorial, and the railroad joiimals once more joined in the chorus. The president of a large Western railroad wrote to Bok that he agreed absolutely with his position, and asked whether he had any definite suggestions to offer for the improvement of some new cars which they were about to order. Bok engaged two of the best architects and decorators in the country, and submitted the re- sults to the ofl&cials of the railroad company, who ap- proved of them heartily. The Pullman Company did not take very kindly, however, to suggestions thus brought to them. But a current had been started; the attention of the travelling public had been drawn for the first time to the wretched decoration of the cars; and public sentiment was beginning to be vocal. The first change came when a new dining-car on the Chicago, Burhngton and Quincy RaUroad suddenly appeared. It was an artistically treated Flemish-oak- panelled car with longitudinal beams and cross-beams, giving the impression of a ceiling-beamed room. Be-- tween the "beams" was a quiet tone of deep yellow. AN ADVENTURE IN CIVIC AND PRIVATE ART 253 The sides of the car were wainscoting of plain surface done in a Flemish stain rubbed down to a dull finish. The grain of the wood was allowed to serve as decora- tion; there was no carving. The whole tone of the car was that of the rich color of the sunflower. The effect upon the travelling public was instantaneous. Every passenger commented favorably on the car. The Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad now followed suit by introducing a new Pullman chair-car. The hideous and germ-laden plush or velvet curtains were gone, and leather hangings of a rich tone took their place. AU the grill-work of a bygone age was missing; likewise the rope curtains. The woods were left to show the grain; no carving was visible anjrwhere. The car was a reUef to the eye, beautiful and simple, and easy to keep clean. Again the public observed, and expressed its pleasure. The Pullman people now saw the drift, and wisely reorganized their decorative department. Only those who remember the Pullman parlor-car of twenty years ago can realize how long a step it is from the atrociously decorated, unsanitary vehicle of that day to the simple car of to-day. It was only a step from the Pullman car to the landscape outside, and Bok next decided to see what he could do toward eliminating the hideous bill-board advertisements which defaced the landscape along the lines of the principal roads. He found a willing ally in this idea in Mr. J. Horace McFarland, of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, one of the most skilful photographers in the coimtry, and the president of The American Civic 254 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK Association. McFarland and Bok worked together; they took innumerable photographs, and began to pub- lish them, caMing public attention to the intrusion upon the public eye. Page after page appeared in the magazine, and after a few months these roused public discussion as to legal control of this class of advertising. Bok meanwhile called the attention of women's dubs and other civic organizations to the question, and urged that they clean their towns of the obnoxious bill-boards. Legislative measures regulating the size, character, and location of biH-boards were introduced in various States, a tax on each biU-board was suggested in other States, and tie agitation began to bear fruit. Bok now called upon his readers in general to help by offering a series of prizes totalling several thousands of dollars for two photographs, one showing a fence, bam, or outbuilding painted with an advertisement or having a biU-board attached to it, or a field with a bill-board in it, and a second photograph of the same spot showing the advertisement removed, with an accompanying affi- davit of the owner of the property, legally attested, asserting that the advertisement had been permanently removed. Hundreds of photographs poured in, scores of prizes were awarded, the results were published, and requests came in for a second series of prizes, which were duly awarded. While Bok did not solve the problem of biU-board ad- vertising, and while in some parts of the country it is a more flagrant nuisance to-day than ever before, he had started the first serious agitation against bill-board AN ADVENTURE IN CIVIC AND PRIVATE ART 255 advertising of bad design, detrimental, from its location, to landscape beauty. He succeeded in getting rid of a huge bill-board wHch had been placed at the most pic- turesque spot at Niagara Falls; and hearing of "the largest advertisement sign in the world" to be placed on the rim of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado, he notified the advertisers that a photograph of the sign, if it was erected, would be iromediately published in the magazine and the attention of the women of America called to the defacement of one of the most impressive and beautiful scenes in the world. The article to be advertised was a household commodity, purchased by women; and the owners realized that the proposed advertisement would not be to the benefit of their product. The sign was abandoned. Of course the advertisers whose signs were shown in the magazine immediately threatened the withdrawal of their accounts from The Ladies' Home Journal, and the proposed advertiser at the Grand Canyon, whose busi- ness was conspicuous in each number of the magazine, became actively threateniag. But Bok contended that the one proposition had absolutely no relation to the other, and that if concerns advertised in the magazine simply on the basis of his editorial policy toward bill- board advertising, it was, to say the least, not a soimd basis for advertising. No advertising accoimt was ever actually withdrawn. In their travels about, Mr. McFarland and Bok began to note the disreputably untidy spots which various municipalities allowed in the closest proxim,ity to the centre of their business life, in the most desirable resi- 2S6 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK dential sections, and often adjacent to the most im- portant municipal buildings and parks. It was decided to select a dozen cities, pick out the most flagrant in- stances of spots which were not only an eyesore and a disgrace from a municipal standpoint, but a menace to health and meant a depreciation of real-estate value. Lynn, Massachusetts, was the initial city chosen, a number of photographs were taken, and the first of a series of "Dirty Cities" was begun in the magazine. The effect was instantaneous. The people of L3rnn rose in protest, and the municipal authorities threatened suit against the magazine; the local newspapers were virulent in their attacks. Without warning, they argued, Bok had held up their city to disgrace before the entire country; the attack was unwarranted; in bad taste; every citizen ia Lynn should thereafter cease to buy the magazine, and so the criticisms ran. In answer Bok merely pointed to the photographs; to the fact that the camera could not lie, and that if he had misrepresented conditions he was ready to make amends. Of course the facts could not be gainsaid; local pride was aroused, and as a result not only were the adver- tised "dirty spots" cleaned up, but the municipal au- thorities went out and hunted around for other spots in the city, not knowing what other photographs Bok might have had taken. Trenton, New Jersey, was the next example, and the same storm of public resentment broke loose — ^with ex- actly the same beneficial results in the end to the city. Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, was the third one of Ameri- ca's "dirty cities." Here public anger rose particularly AN ADVENTURE IN CIVIC AND PRIVATE ART 257 high, the magazine practically being barred from the news-stands. But again the result was to the lasting benefit of the community. Memphis, Tennessee, came next, but here a dififerent spirit was met. Although some resentment was ex- pressed, the general feeling was that a service had been rendered the city, and that the only wise and practical solution was for the city to meet the situation. The result here was a group of municipal buildings costing millions of dollars, photographs of which The Ladies' Home Journal subsequently pubhshed with gratification to itself and to the people of Memphis. Cities throughout the country now began to look arovmd to see whether they had dirty spots within their limits, not knowing when the McFarland photographers might visit them. Bok received letters from various mxmicipalities calling his attention to the fact that they were cognizant of spots in their cities and were cleaning up, and asking that, if he had photographs of these spots, they should not be pubhshed. It happened that in two such instances Bok had al- ready prepared sets of photographs for publication. These he sent to the mayors of the respective cities, stating that if they would return them with an addi- tional set showing the spots cleaned up there would be no occasion for their publication. In both cases this was done. Atlanta, Georgia; New Haven, Connecti- cut; Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, and finally Bok's own city of Philadelphia were duly chronicled in the magazine; local storms broke and calmed down — ^with the ^ots in every instance improved. 258 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK It was an interesting e3q)eriment in photographic civics. The pity of it is that more has not been done along this and similar lines. The time now came when Bok could demonstrate the willingness of his own publishing company to do what it could to elevate the public taste in art. With the increasing circulation of The Ladies' Home Journal and of The Saturday Evening Post the business of the com- pany had grown to such dimensions that in 1908 plans for a new building were started. For purposes of air and light the vicinity of Independence Square was se- lected. Mr. Curtis purchased an entire city block facing the square, and the present huge but beautiful publica- tion building was conceived. Bok strongly believed that good art should find a place in public buildings where large numbers of persons might find easy access to it. The proximity of the pro- posed new structure to historic Independence HaU and the adjacent buildings would make it a focal point for visitors from all parts hi the country and the world. The opportunity presented itself to put good art, within the comprehension of a large public, into the new build- ing, and Bok asked permission of Mr. Curtis to intro- duce a strong note of mural decoration. The idea com- mended itself to Mr. Curtis as adding an attraction to the building and a contribution to public art. The great public dining-room, seating over seven hun- dred persons, on the top floor of the building, affording unusual fighting facilities, was first selected; and Max- field Parrish was engaged to paint a series of seventeen panels to fiH the large spaces between the windows and AN ADVENTURE IN CIVIC AND PRIVATE ART 259 an unusually large wall space at the end of the room. Parrish contracted to give up all other work and devote himself to the commission which attracted him greatly. For over a year he made sketches, and finally the theme was decided upon: a bevy of youths and maidens in gala costume, on their way through gardens and along terraces to a great ffete, with pierrots and dancers and musicians on the main wall space. It was to be a picture of happy youth and sunny gladness. Five years after the conception of the idea the final panel was finished and installed in the dining-room, where the series has since been admired by the thirty to fifty thousand visitors who come to the Curtis Building each year from for- eign lands and from every State in America. No other scheme of mural decoration was ever planned on so large a scale for a commercial building, or so successfully carried out. The great wall space of over one thousand square feet, unobstructed by a single column, in the main foyer of the building was decided upon as the place for the pivotal note to be struck by some mural artist. After looking carefully over the field, Bok finally decided upon Edwin A. Abbey. He took a steamer and visited Abbey in his English home. The artist was working on his canvases for the State capitol at Harrisburg, and it was agreed that the commission for the Curtis Building was to follow the completion of the State work. "What subject have you in mind?" asked Abbey. "None," replied Bok. "That is left entirely to you." The artist and his M^iie looked at each other in be- wilderment. 26o THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK "Rather unusual," commented Abbey. "You have nothing in mind at all?" "Nothing, except to get the best piece of work you have ever done," was the assurance. Poor Abbey ! His life had been made so tortuous by suggestions, ideas, yes, demands made upon him in the work of the Harrisburg panels upon which he was en- gaged, that a commission in which he was to have free scope, his brush full leeway, with no one making sug- gestions but himself and Mrs. Abbey, seemed like a dream. When he explained this, Bok assured him that was exactly what he was offering him: a piece of work, the subject to be his own selection, with the assurance of absolute liberty to carry out his own ideas. Never was an artist more elated. "Then, I'll give you the best piece of work of my life," said Abbey. "Perhaps there is some subject which you have long wished to paint rather than any other," asked Bok, "that might fit our purpose admirably?" There was; a theme that he had started as a fresco for Mrs. Abbey's bedroom. But it would not answer this purpose at all, although he confessed he woxild rather paint it than any subject in the realm of all liter- ature and art. "And the subject?" asked Bok. "The Grove of Academe," replied Abbey, and the eyes of the artist and his wife were riveted on the editor. "With Plato and his disciples?" asked Bok. "The same," said Abbey. "J3ut you see it wouldn't fit." AN ADVENTURE IN CIVIC AND PRIVATE ART 261 tn 'Wouldn't fit?" echoed Bok. "Why, it's the very thing." Abbey and his wife were now like two happy children. Mrs. Abbey fetched the sketches which her husband had begun years ago, and when Bok saw them he was dehghted. He realized at once that conditions and choice would conspire to produce Abbey's greatest piece of mural work. The arrangements were quickly settled; the Curtis architect had accompanied Bok to explain the archi- tectural possibilities to Abbey, and when the artist bade good-by to the two at the railroad station, his last words were: "Bok, you are going to get the best Abbey in the world." And Mrs. Abbey echoed the prophecy i But Fate intervened. On the day after Abbey had stretched his great canvas in Sargent's studio in London, expecting to begin his work the following week, he sud- denly passed away, and what would, in all likelihood, have been Edwin Abbey's mural masterpiece was lost to the world. Assiured of Mrs. Abbey's willingness to have another artist take the theme of the Grove of Academe and carry it out as a mural decoration, Bok turned to Howard Pyle. He knew Pyle had made a study of Plato, and believed that, with his knowledge and love of the work of the Athenian philosopher, a good decoration would resiilt Pyle was then in Italy; Bok telephoned the painter's home in Wilmington, Delaware, to get hfs ad- dress, only to be told that an hour earlier word had 262 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK been received by the family that Pyle had been fatally stricken the day before. Once more Bok went over the field of mural art and decided this time that he would go far afield, and pre- sent his idea to Boutet de Monvel, the French decorative artist. Bok had been much impressed with some dec- orative work by De Monvel which had just been ex- hibited in New York. By letter he laid the proposition in detail before the artist, asked for a subject, and stipu- lated that if the details could be arranged the artist should visit the building and see the place and sxur- roundings for himself. After a lengthy correspondence, and sketches submitted and corrected, a plan for what promised to be a most imusual and artistically decora- tive panel was arrived at. The date for M. de Monvel's visit to Philadelphia was fixed, a final letter from the artist reached Bok on a Monday morning, in which a few remaining details were satisfactorily cleared up, and a cable was sent assuring De Monvel of the entire satisfaction of the company with his final sketches and arrangements. The follow- ing morning Bok picked up his newspaper to read that Boutet de Monvel had suddenly passed away in Paris the previous evening ! Bok, thoroughly bewildered, began to feel as if some fatal star hxmg over his cherished decoration. Three times in succession he had met the same decree of fate. He consulted six of the leading mural decorators in America, asking whether they would consent, not in competition, to submit each a finished fuU-color sketch AN ADVENTURE IN CIVIC AND PRIVATE ART 263 of the subject which he believed fitted for the place in mind; they could take the Grove of Academe or not, as they chose; the subject was to be of their own selection. Each artist was to receive a generous fee for his sketch, whether accepted or rejected. In due time, the six sketches were received; impartial judges were selected, no names were attached to the sketches, several con- ferences were held, and aU the sketches were rejected ! Bok was still exactly where he started, while the build- ing was nearly complete, with no mural for the large place so insistently demanding it. He now recalled a marvellous stage-curtain entirely of glass mosaic executed by Louis C. Tiflfany, of New York, for the Municipal Theatre at Mexico City. The work had attracted universal attention at its exliibition, art critics and connoisseurs had praised it imstintingly, and Bok decided to experiment in that direction. Just as the ancient Egj^ptians and Persians had used glazed brick and tile, set in cement, as their form of waU decoration, so Mr. Tiffany had used favrile glass, set ia cement. The luminosity was marvellous; the effect of light upon the glass was unbelievably beauti- ful, and the colorings obtained were a joy to the senses. Here was not only a new method in wall decoration, but one that was entirely practicable. Glass would not craze like tiles or mosaic; it would not crinkle as will canvas; it needed no varnish. It would retain its color, freshness, and beauty, and water wovdd readily cleanse it from dust. He sought Mr. Tififany, who was enthusiastic over the idea of making an example of his mosaic glass of such 264 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK dimensions which should remain in this country, and gladly offered to co-operate. But, try as he might, Bok could not secure an adequate sketch for Mr. Tif- fany to carry out. Then he recalled that one day while at Maxfield Parrish's summer home in New Hampshire the artist had told him of a dream garden which he would like to construct, not on canvas but in reality. Bok suggested to Parrish that he come to New York. He asked him if he could put his dream garden on canvas. The artist thought he could; in fact, was greatly at- tracted to the idea; but he knew nothing of mosaic work, and was not particularly attracted by the idea of having his work rendered in that medium. Bok took Parrish to Mr. Tiffany's studio; the two artists talked together, the glass-worker showed the canvas-painter his work, with the result that the two became enthusiastic to co-operate in trying the experi- ment. Parrish agreed to make a sketch for Mr. Tif- fany's approval, and within six months, after a number of conferences and an equal number of sketches, they were ready to begin the work. Bok only hoped that this time both artists would outlive their commissions ! It was a huge picture to be done in glass mosaic. The space to be filled called for over a million pieces of glass, and for a year the services of thirty of the most skilled artisans would be required. The work had to be done from a series of bromide photographs enlarged to a size hitherto unattempted. But at last the decoration was completed; the finished art piece was placed on exhibi- tion in New York and over seven thousand persons came to see it. The leading art critics pronounced the result AN ADVENTURE IN CIVIC AND PRIVATE ART 265 to be the most amazing instance of tke tone capacity of glass-work ever achieved. It was a veritable wonder- piece, far exceeding the utmost expression of paint and canvas. For six months a group of skilled artisans worked to take the picture apart in New York, transport it and set it into its place in Philadelphia. But at last it was in place: the wonder-picture in glass of which painters have declared that "mere words are only aggravating in describing this amazing picture." Since that day over one hundred thousand visitors to the building have sat in admiration before it. The Grove of Academe was to become a Dream Gar- den, but it was only after six years of incessant effort, with obstacles and interventions almost insurmountable, that the dream became true. CHAPTER XXIII THEODORE ROOSEVELT'S INFLUENCE When the virile figure of Theodore Roosevelt swiing down the national highway, Bok was one of thousands of young men who felt strongly the attraction of his personality. Colonel Roosevelt was only five years the senior of the editor; he spoke, therefore, as one of his own years. The energy with which he said and did things appealed to Bok. He made Americanism some- thing more real, more stirring than Bok had ever felt it; he explained national questions in a way that caught Bok's fancy and came within his comprehension. Bok's lines had been cast with many of the great men of the day, but he felt that there was something distinctive about the personality of this man : his method of doing things and his way of saying things. Bok observed everything Colonel Roosevelt did and read everything he wrote. The editor now sought an opportunity to know per- sonally the man whom he admired. It came at a dinner at the University Club, and Colonel Roosevelt suggested that they meet there the following day for a "talk- fest." For three hours the two talked together. The fact that Colonel Roosevelt was of Dutch ancestry in- terested Bok; that Bok was actually of Dutch birth made a strong appeal to the colonel. With his tremen- dous breadth of interests, Roosevelt, Bok found, had fol- 266 THEODORE ROOSEVELT'S INFLUENCE 267 lowed him quite closely in his work, and was familiar with "its high points," as he called them. "We must work for the same ends," said the colonel, "you in your way, I in mine. But our lines are bound to cross. You and I can each become good Americans by giving our best to make America better. With the Dutch stock there is in both of us, there's no limit to what we can do. Let's go to it." Naturally that talk left the two firm friends. Bok felt somehow that he had been given a new draft of Americanism: the word took on a new mean- ing for him; it stood for something different, something deeper and finer than before. And every subsequent talk with Roosevelt deepened the feeHng and stirred Bok's deepest ambitions. "Go to it, you Dutchman," Roosevelt would say, and Bok would go to it. A talk with Roosevelt always left him feeling as if mountains were the easiest things in the world to move. One of Theodore Roosevelt's arguments which made a deep impression upon Bok was that no man had a right to devote his entire life to the making of money. "You are in a peculiar position," said the man of Oyster Bay one day to Bok; "you are in that happy position where you can make money and do good at the same time. A man wields a tremendous power for good or for evil who is welcomed into a million homes and read with confidence. That's fine, and is all right so far as it goes, and in your case it goes very far. Still, there re- mains more for you to do. The public has built up for you a personality: now give that personality to whatever interests you in contact with your immediate fellow- 268 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK men: something in your neighborhood, your city, or your State. With one hand work and write to your national audience: let no fads sway you. Hew close to the line. But, with the other hand, swing into the life immediately around you. Think it over." Bok did think it over. He was now realizing the dream of his life for which he had worked: his means were sufficient to give his mother every comfort; to in- stall her in the most comfortable surroundings wher- ever she chose to live; to make it possible for her to spend the winters in the United States and the summers in the Netherlands, and thus to keep in touch with her family and friends in both countries. He had for years toiled unceasingly to reach this point: he felt he had now achieved at least one goal. He had now turned instinctively to the making of a home for himseK. After an engagement of four years he had been married, on October 22, 1896, to Mary Louise Curtis, the only child of Mr. and Mrs. Cyrus H. K. Curtis; two sons had been born to them; he had built and was occupying a house at Merion, Penn- sylvania, a suburb six miles from the Philadelphia City Hall. When she was in this country his mother lived with him, and also his brother, and, with a strong belief in life insurance, he had seen to it that his family was provided for in case of personal incapacity or of his demise. In other words, he felt that he had put his own house in order; he had carried out what he felt is every man's duty: to be, first of aU, a careful and adequate provider for his family. He was now at the point where he could begin to work for another goal, the goal that THEODORE ROOSEVELT'S INFLUENCE 269 he felt so few American men saw: the point in his life where he could retire from the call of duty and follow the call of inclination. At the age of forty he tried to look ahead and plan out his life as far as he coiild. Barring unforeseen ob- stacles, he determined to retire from active business when he reached his fiftieth year, and give the remainder of his life over to those interests and influences which he assumed now as part of his hfe, and which, at fifty, should seem to him best worth while. He realized that in order to do this he must do two things: he must hus- band his financial resources and he must begin to ac- cumulate a mental reserve. The wide public acceptance of the periodical which he edited naturally brought a share of financial success to him. He had experienced poverty, and as he sub- sequently wrote, in an article called "Why I Believe in Poverty," he was deeply grateful for his experience. He had known what it was to be poor; he had seen others dear to him suffer for the bare necessities; there was, in fact, not a single step on that hard road that he had not travelled. He could, therefore, sympathize with the fullest understanding with those similarly situated, could help as one who knew from practice and not from theory. He realized what a marvellous blessing poverty can be; but as a condition to experience, to derive from it poignant lessons, and then to get out of; not as a condition to stay in. Of course many said to Bok when he wrote the ar- ticle in which he expressed these beliefs: "That's aU very well; easy enough to say, but how can you get out 2 70 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK of it?" Bok realized that he could not definitely show any one the way. No one had shown him. No two persons can find the same way out. Bok determined to lift himself out of poverty because his mother was not bom in it, did not belong in it, and could not stand it. That gave him the first essential: a purpose. Then he backed up the purpose with effort and an ever-ready willingness to work, and to work at anything that came his way, no matter what it was, so long as it meant "the way out." He did not pick and choose; he took what came, and did it in the best way he knew how; and when he did not like what he was doing he still did it as well as he could while he was doing it, but always with an eye single to the purpose not to do it any longer than was strictly necessary. He used every rung in the ladder as a rung to the one above. He always gave more than his particular position or salary asked for. He never worked by the clock; always by the job; and saw that it was well done regardless of the time it took to do it. This meant effort, of course, untiring, ceaseless, unsparing; and it meant work, hard as nails. He was particularly careful never to live up to his income; and as his income iacreased he increased not the percentage of expenditure but the percentage of saving. Thrift was, of course, inborn with him as a Dutchman, but the necessity for it as a prime factor in life was burned into him by his experience with poverty. But he interpreted thrift not as a trait of niggardliness, but as Theodore Roosevelt interpreted it: common sense applied to spending. At forty, therefore, he felt he had learned the first THEODORE ROOSEVELT'S INFLUENCE 271 essential to carrying out his idea of retirement at fifty. The second essential — varied interests outside of his .business upon which he could rely on rehnquishing his duties — he had not cultivated. He had quite naturally, in line with his belief that concentration means success, immersed himself in his business to the exclusion of al- most everything else. He felt that he could now spare a certain percentage of his time to follow Theodore Roosevelt's ideas and let the breezes of other worlds blow over him. In that way he coiild do as Roosevelt suggested and as Bok now firmly believed was right: he could develop himself along broader lines, albeit the lines of his daily work were broadening in and of them- selves, and he could so develop a new set of inner re- sources upon which he could draw when the time came to relinquish his editorial position. He saw, on every side, the pathetic figures of men who could not let go after their greatest usefulness was past; of other men who dropped before they realized their arrival at the end of the road; and, most pathetic of aU, of men who having retired, but because of lack of inner resources did not know what to do with themselves, had become a trial to themselves, their families, and their communities. Bok decided that, given health and mental freshness, he would say good-by to his pubUc before his pubKc might decide to say good-by to him. So, at forty, he candidly faced the facts of life and began to prepare himself for his retirement at fifty under circumstances that would be of his own making and not those of others. And thereby Edward Bok proved that he was still, 272 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK by instinct, a Dutchman, and had not in his thirty-four years of residence in the United States become so thor- oughly Americanized as he believed. However, it was an American, albeit of Dutch ex- traction, one whom he believed to be the greatest Amer- ican in his own day, who had set him thinking and shown him the way. CHAPTER XXIV THEODORE ROOSEVELT'S ANONYMOUS EDITORIAL WORK While Theodore Roosevelt was President of the United States, Bok was sitting one evening talking with him, when suddenly Mr. Roosevelt turned to him and said with his usual emphasis: "Bok, I envy you your power with your public." The editor was frankly puzzled. "That is a strange remark from the President of the United States," he replied. "You may think so," was the rejoinder. "But lis- ten. When do I get the ear of the public ? In its busiest moments. My messages are printed in the newspapers and read hurriedly, mostly by men in trolleys or rail- road-cars. Women hardly ever read them, I should judge. Now you are read in the evening by the fireside or under the lamp, when the day's work is over and the mind is at rest from other things and receptive to what you oflFer. Don't you see where you have it on me?" This diagnosis was keenly interesting, and while the President talked during the balance of the evening, Bok was thinking. Finally, he said: "Mr. President, I should like to share my power with you." "How?" asked Mr. Roosevelt. "You recognize that women do not read your mes- sages; and yet no President's messages ever discussed 273 2 74 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK more ethical questions that women should know about and get straight in their minds. As it is, some of your ideas are not at all understood by them; your strenuous- life theory, for instance, your factory-law ideas, and par- ticularly your race-suicide arguments. Men don't fully understand them, for that matter; women certainly do not." "I am aware of all that," said the President. "What is your plan to remedy it?" "Have a department in my magazine, and explain your ideas," suggested Bok. "Haven't time for another thing. You know that," snapped back the President. "Wish I had." "Not to write it, perhaps, yourself," returned Bok. "But why couldn't you find time to do this: select the writer here in Washington in whose accuracy you have the most implicit faith; let him talk with you for one hour each month on one of those subjects; let him write out your views, and submit the manuscript to you; and we will have a department stating exactly how the ma- terial is obtained and how far it represents your own work. In that way, with only an hour's work each month, you can get your views, correctly stated, before this vast audience when it is not in trolleys or railroad- cars." "But I haven't the hour," answered Roosevelt, im- pressed, however, as Bok saw. "I have only half an hour, when I am awake, when I am reaUy idle, and that is when I am being shaved." "Well," calmly suggested the editor, "why not two of those half-hours a month, or perhaps one?" ROOSEVELT'S ANONYMOUS EDITORIAL WORK 275 "What?" answered the President, sitting upright, his teeth flashing but his smile broadening. "You Dutch- man, you'd make me work while I'm getting shaved, too?" "Well," was the answer, "isn't the result worth the effort?" "Bok, you are absolutely relentless," said the Presi- dent. "But you're right. The result would be worth the effort. What writer have you in mind ? You seem to have thought this thing through." ' ' How about O'Brien ? You think well of him ? " (Robert L. O'Brien, now editor of the Boston Herald, was then Washington correspondent for the Boston Transcript and thoroughly in the President's confidence.) "Fine," said the President. "I trust O'Brien im- plicitly. All right, if you can get O'Brien to add it on, I'll try it." And so the "shaving interviews" were begun; and early in 1906 there appeared in The Ladies' Home Jour- nal a department called "The President," with the sub- title: "A Department in which wiU be presented the attitude of the President on those national questions which affect the vital interests of the home, by a writer intimately acquainted and in close touch with him." O'Brien talked with Mr. Roosevelt once a month, wrote out the results, the President went over the proofs carefully, and the department was conducted with great success for a year. But Theodore Roosevelt was again to be the editor of a department in The Ladies' Home Journal; this time to be written by himself under the strictest possible 276 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK anonymity, so closely adhered to that, until this revela- tion, only five persons have known the authorship. Feeling that it would be an interesting experiment to see how far Theodore Roosevelt's ideas could stand im- supported by the authority of his vibrant personality, Bok suggested the plan to the colonel. It was just after he had returned from his South American trip. He was immediately interested. "But how can we keep the authorship really anony- mous?" he asked. "Easily enough," answered Bok, "if you're willing to do the work. Our letters about it must be written in long hand addressed to each other's homes; you must write your manuscript in your own hand; I will copy it in mine, and it will go to the printer in that way. I will personally send you the proofs; you mark your correc- tions in pencil, and I will copy them in ink; the com- pany will pay me for each article, and I will send you my personal check each month. By this means, the identity of the author wiU be concealed." Colonel Roosevelt was never averse to hard work if it was necessary to achieve a result that he felt was worth while. "All right," wrote the colonel finally. "I'll try— with you! — the experiment for a year: 12 articles. . . . I don't know that I can give your readers satisfaction, but I shall try my very best. I am very glad to be as- sociated with you, anyway. At first I doubted the wis- dom of the plan, merely because I doubted whether I could give you just that you wished. I never know what an audience wants: I know what it ought to want: ROOSEVELT'S ANONYMOUS EDITORIAL WORK 277 and sometimes I can give it, or make it accept what I think it needs — and sometimes I cannot. But the more I thought over your proposal, the more I Uked it. . . . Whether the wine will be good enough to at- tract without any bush I don't know; and besides, in such case^ the fault is not in the wine, but in the fact that the consumers decline to have their attention at- tracted imless there is a bush !" In the latter part of 1916 an anonymous department called "Men" was begun in the magazine. The physical work was great. The colonel punctili- ously held to the conditions, and wrote manuscript and letters with his own hand, and Bok carried out his part of the agreement. Nor was this simple, for Colonel Roosevelt's manuscript — ^particularly when, as in this case, it was written on yellow paper with a soft pencil and generously interHned — ^was anything but legible. Month after month the two men worked each at his own task. To throw the public off the scent, during the conduct of the department, an article or two by Colonel Roosevelt was published in another part of the magazine imder his own name, and in the department itself the anon3anous author would occasionally quote himself. It was natural that the appearance of a department devoted to men in a woman's magazine should attract immediate attention. The department took up the various interests of a man's life, such as real efficiency; his duties as an employer and his usefvilness to his em- ployees; the employee's attitude toward his employer; the relations of men and women; a father's relations to his sons and daughters; a man's duty to his community; 278 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK the public-school system; a man's relation to his church, and kindred topics. The anonjmiity of the articles soon took on interest from the positiveness of the opinions discussed; but so thoroughly had Colonel Roosevelt covered his tracks that, although he wrote in his usual style, in not a si&gle instance was his name connected with the department. L3mian Abbott was the favorite "guess" at first; then after various other public men had been suggested, the newspapers finally decided upon former President Eliot of Harvard University as the writer. AH this intensely interested and amused Colonel Roosevelt and he fairly itched with the desire to write a series of criticisms of his own articles to Doctor Eliot. Bok, however, persuaded the colonel not to spend more physical efifort than he was already doing on the arti- cles; for, in addition, he was notating answers on the numerous letters received, and those Bok answered "on behalf of the author." For a year, the department continued. During aU that time the secret of the authorship was known to only one man, besides the colonel and Bok, and their respective wives ! When the colonel sent his last article in the series to Bok, he wrote: Now that the work is over, I wish most cordially to thank you, my dear fellow, for your unvarying courtesy and Mad- ness. I have not been satisfied with my work. This is the first time I ever tried to write precisely to order, and I am not one of those gifted men who can do so to advantage. Generally I find that the 3,000 words is not the right length ROOSEVELT'S ANONYMOUS EDITORIAL WORK 279 and that I wish to use 2,000 or 4,000 ! And in consequence feel as if I had either padded or mutilated the article. And I am not always able to feel that every month I have some- thing worth saying on a ^ven subject. But I hope tJiat you have not been too much disappointed. Bok had not been, and neither had his public ! In the meanwhile, Bok had arranged with Colonel Roosevelt for his reading and advising upon manu- scripts of special significance for the magazine. In this work, Colonel Roosevelt showed his customary promptness and thoroughness. A manuscript, no mat- ter how long it might be, was in his hands scarcely forty- eight hours, more generally twenty-four, before it was read, a report thereon written, and the article on its way back. His reports were always comprehensive and invariably interesting. There was none of the cut- and-dried flavor of the opinion of the average "reader"; he always put himself into the report, and, of course, that meant a warm personal touch. If he could not encourage the publication of a manuscript, his reasons were always fully given,^and invariably without per- sonal bias. On one occasion Bok sent him a manuscript which he was sure was, in its views, at variance with the colonel's beliefs. The colonel, he knew, felt strongly on the sub- ject, and Bok wondered what would be his criticism. The report . came back promptly. He reviewed the article carefully and ended: "Of course, this is aU at variance with my own views. I believe thoroughly and completely that this writer is aU wrong. And yet, from his side of the case, I am free to say that he makes 28o THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK SAGAMORE HILL. :,' A^t.*^'^^ ■t t ,^ f^£ /^o^^^'TZ-Ct^C-i^'- ONE OF THEODORE ROOSEVELT'S " REPORTS " AS A HEADER OF SPECIAL MANUSCRIPTS out the best case I have read anywhere. I think a maga2dne should present both sides of all questions; and if you want to present this side, I should strongly recommend that you do so with this article." ROOSEVELT'S ANONYMOUS EDITORIAL WORK 281 Not long after, Bok decided to induce Colonel Roose- velt to embark upon an entirely new activity, and ne- gotiations were begun (alas, too late ! for it was in the au- tumn of 1918), which, owing to their tentative character, were never made public. Bok told Colonel Roosevelt that he wanted to invest twenty-five thousand dollars a year in American boyhood — the boyhood that he felt twenty years hence would be the manhood of America, and that would actually solve the problems with whidi we were now grappling. Although, aH too apparently, he was not in his usual vigorous health, Colonel Roosevelt was alert in a mo- ment. "Fine!" he said, mth his teeth gleaming. "Couldn't invest better an3rwhere. How are you going to do it?" "By asking you to assume the active headship of the National Boy Scouts of America, and pa)dng you that amount each year as a fixed salary." The colonel looked steadily ahead for a moment, wiliiout a word, and then with tiae old Roosevelt smile wreathing his face and his teeth fairly gleaming, he turned to his "tempter," as he called him, and said: "Do you know that was very well put? Yes, sir, very well put." "Yes?" answered Bok. "Glad you think so. But how about your accq>tance of the idea?" "That's another matter; quite another matter. How about the organization itself? There are men in it that don't approve of me at all, you know," he said. Bok explained that the organization knew nothing of his offer; that it was entirely unofficial. It was 282 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK purely a personal thought. He believed the Boy Scouts of America needed a leader; that the colonel was the one man in the United States fitted by every natural quality to be that leader; that the Scouts would rally around him, and that, at his call, instead of four hundred thousand Scouts, as there were then, the or- ganization would grow into a million and more. Bok fiurther e^lained that he believed his connection with the national organization was sufficient, if Colonel Roose- yelt would favorably consider such a leadership, to war- rant him in presenting it to the national officers; and he was inclined to believe they would welcome the op- portimity. He could not assure the colonel of this! He had no authority for saying they would; but was Colonel Roosevelt receptive to the idea? At first, the colonel could not see it. But he went over the ground as thoroughly as a half-hour talk per- mitted; and finally the opportunity for doing a piece of constructive work that might prove second to none that he had ever done, made its appeal. "You mean for me to be the active head?" asked the colonel. "Could you be anything else, colonel?" answered Bok. "Quite so," said the colonel. "That's about right. Do you know," he pondered, "I think Edie (Mrs. Roose- velt) might like me to do something like that. She would figure it would keep me out of mischief in 1920," and the colonel's smile spread over his face. 'Bok," he at last concluded, "do you know, after all, I think you've said something ! Let's think it over. ROOSEVELT'S ANONYMOUS EDITORIAL WORK 283 Let's see how I get along with this trouble of mine. I am not sure, you know, how far I can go in the future. Not at all sure, you know — not at aU. That last trip of mine to South America was a bit too much. Shouldn't have done it, you know. I know it now. Well, as I say, let's both think it over and through; I will, gladly and most carefully. There's much in what you say; it's a great chance; I'd love doing it. By Jove! it would be wonderful to rally a million boys for real Americanism, as you say. It looms up as I think it over. Suppose we let it simmer for a month or two." And so it was left — for "a month or two." It was to be forever — unfortunately. Edward Bok has al- ways felt that the most worth-while idea that ever came to him had, for some reason he never could under- stand, come too late. He felt, as he wiU always feel, that the boys of America had lost a national leader that might have led them — ^where would have been the limit? CHAPTER XXV THE PRESIDENT AND THE BOY One of the incidents connected with Edward Bok that Theodore Roosevelt never forgot was when Bok's ddest boy chose the colonel as a Christmas present. And no incident better portrays the wonderful char- acter of the colonel than did his remarkable response to the compliment. A vicious attack of double pneumonia had left the heart of the boy very weak — and Christmas was close by ! So the father said: "It's a quiet Christmas for you this year, boy. Sup- pose you do this: think of the one thing in the world that you would rather have than anything else and I'll give you that, and that will have to be your Christ- mas." "1 know now," came the instant reply. "But the world is a big place, and there are lots of things in it, you know." "I know that," said the boy, "but this is something I have wanted for a long time, and would rather have than anything else in the world." And he looked as if he meant it. "Well, out with it, then, if you're so sure." And to the father's astonished ears came this request: "Take me to Washington as soon as my heart is all 284 THE PRESIDENT AND THE BOY 285 right, introduce me to President Roosevelt, and let me shake hands with him." "All right," said the father, after' recovering from his surprise. "I'll see whether I can fix it." And that morning a letter went to the President saying that he had been chosen as a Christmas present. Naturally, any man would have felt pleased, no matter how high his station, and for Theodore Roosevelt, father of boys, the message had a special appeal. The letter had no sooner reached Washington than back came an answer, addressed not to the father but to the boy! It read: The White House, Washington. November 13th, 1907. Dear Curtis: Your father has just written me, and I want him to bring you on and shake hands with me as soon as you are well enough to travel. Then I am going to give you, myself, a copy of the book containing my hunting trips since I have been President; unless you will wait until the new edition, which contains two more chapters, is out. If so, I will send it to you, as this new edition probably won't be ready when you come on here. Give my warm regards to your father and mother. Sincerely yours, Theodore Roosevelt. Here was joy serene ! But the boy's heart had acted queerly for a few days, and so the father wrote, thanked tie President, and said that as soon as the heart moder- ated a bit the letter would be given the boy. It was a rare bit of consideration that now followed. No sooner had the father's letter reached the White House than an 286 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK answer came back by first post — this time with a special- delivery stamp on it. It was Theodore Roosevelt, the father, who wrote this time; his mind and time filled with affairs of state, and yet fuU of tender thought- fulness for a little boy: Dear Mr. Bok: — I have your letter of the i6th instant. I hope the little fellow will soon be all right. Instead of giving him my letter, give him a message from me based on the letter, if tiat will be better for him. Tell Mrs. Bok how deeply Mrs. Roosevelt and I sjmapathize with her. We know just how she feds. Sincerely yours, Theodore Roosevelt. "That's pretty fine consideration," said the father. He got the letter during a business conference and he read it aloud to the group of business men. Some there were in that group who keenly differed with the President on national issues, but they were all fathers, and two of the sturdiest turned and walked to the win- dow as they said: "Yes, that is fine !" Then came the boy's pleasure when he was handed the letter; the next few days were spent inditing an answer to "my friend, the President." At last the momentous epistle seemed satisfactory, and off to the busy presi- dential desk went the bo)dsh note, fuU of thanks and assurances that he would come just as soon as he could, and that Mr. Roosevelt must not get impatient ! The "soon as he could" time, however, did not come as quickly as all had hoped ! — a little heart pumped for days full of oxygen and accelerated by hypodermic in- jections is slow to mend. But the President's framed THE PRESIDENT AND THE BOY 287 letter, hanging on the spot on the wall first seen in the morning, was a daily consolation. Then, in March, although four months after the prom- ise — and it would not have been strange, in his busy life, for the President to have forgotten or at least over- looked it — on the very day that the book was published came a special "large-paper" copy of The Outdoor Pastimes of an American Hunter, and on the fly-leaf there greeted the boy, in the President's own hand : To Master Curtis Bok, With the best wishes of his friend, Theodore Roosevelt. March 11, 1908. The boy's cup was now fuU, and so said his letter to the President. And the President wrote back to the father: "I am really immensely amused and interested, and shall be mighty glad to see the little fellow." In the spring, on a beautiful May day, came the great moment. The mother had to go along, the boy insisted, to see the great event, and so the trio found themselves shaking the hand of the President's secretary at the White House. "Oh, the President is looking for you, aU right," he said to the boy, and then the next moment the three were in a large room. Mr. Roosevelt, with beaming face, was already striding across the room, and with a "Well, well, and so this is my friend Curtis!" the two stood looking into each other's faces, each fairly wreathed in smiles, and each industriously shaking the hand of the other. 288 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK "Yes, Mr. President, I'm mighty glad to see you!" said the boy. "I am glad to see you, Curtis," returned Mr. Roose- velt. Then there came a white rose from the presidential desk for the mother, but after that father and mother might as well have faded away. Nobody existed save the President and the boy. The anteroom was full; in the Cabinet-room a delegation waited to be addressed. But affairs of state were at a complete standstill as, with boyish zeal, the President became obUvious to all but the boy before him. "Now, Curtis, I've got some pictures here of bears that a friend of mine has just shot. Look at that whopper, fifteen himdred pounds — that's as much as a horse weighs, you know. Now, my friend shot him" — and it was a toss-up who was the more keenly inter- ested, the real boy or the man-boy, as picture after picture came out and bear adventure crowded upon the heels of bear adventure. "Gee, he's a corker, all right!" came from the boy at one point, and then, from the President: "That's right, he is a corker. Now you see his head here" — and then both were off again. The private secretary came in at this point and whispered in the President's ear. "I know, I know. I'll see him later. Say that I am very busy now." And the face beamed with smiles. "Now, Mr. President — " began the father. "No, sir; no, sir; not at all. Affairs can wait. This is a long-standing engagement between Curtis and me, and that must come first. Isn't that so, Curtis?" THE PRESIDENT AND THE BOY 289 Of course the boy agreed. Suddenly the boy looked around the room and said : ' ' Where's your gun, Mr. President ? Got it here ? " "No," laughingly came from the President, "but I'll tell you" — and then the two heads were together again. A moment for breath-taking came, and the boy said : "Aren't you everafraid of being shot?" "You mean while I am himting?" "Oh, no. I mean as President." "No," repUed the smiling President. "I'll tell you, Curtis; I'm too busy to think about that. I have too many things to do to bother about anything of that sort. When I was in battle I was always too anxious to get to the front to think about the shots. And here — weU, here I'm too busy too. Never think about it. But I'U teU you, Curtis, there are some men down there," pointing out of the window in the direction of the capitol, "called the Congress, and if they would only give me the four battleships I want, I'd be perfectly willing to have any one take a crack at me." Then, for the first time recognizing the existence of the parents, the President said: "And I don't know but if they did pick me off I'd be pretty well ahead of the game." Just in that moment only did the boy-knowing ^ Presi- dent get a single inch above the boy-iuterest. It was astonishing to see the natural accuracy with which the man gauged the boy-level. "Now, how would you like to see a bear, Curtis?" came next. "I know where there's a beauty, twelve hundred pounds." "Must be some bear !" interjected the boy. "That's what it is," put in the President. "Regular 290 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK cinnamon-brovm type" — ^and then off went the talk to the big bear at the Washington "Zoo" where the President was to send the boy. Then, after a little: "Now, Curtis, see those men over there in that room. They've travelled from all parts of the country to come here at my invitation, and I've got to make a little speech to them, and I'll do that while you go off to see the bear." And then the hand came forth to say good-by. The boy put his in it, each looked into the other's face, and on neither was there a place big enough to put a ten- cent piece that was not wreathed in smiles. "He cer- tainly is all right," said the boy to the father, looking wistfully after the President. Almost to the other room had the President gone when he, too, instinctively looked back to find the boy following him with his eyes. He stopped, wheeled around, and then the two instinctivdy sought each otiier again. The! President came back, the boy went forward. This time each held out both hands, and as each looked once more into the other's eyes a world of complete imderstanding was in both faces, and every looker-on smiled with them. "Good-by, Curtis," came at last from the President. "Good-by, Mr. President," came from the boy. Then, with another pump-handly shake and with a "Gee, but he's great, all right!" the boy went out to see the cinnamon-bear at the "Zoo," and to live it all over in the days to come. Two boy-hearts had met, although one of them be- longed to the President of the United States. CHAPTER XXVI THE LITERARY BACK-STAIRS His complete absorption in the magazine work now compelled Bok to close his newspaper syndicate in New York and end the writing of his weekly newspaper liter- ary letter. He decided, however, to transfer to the pages of his magazine his idea of making the American public more conversant with books and authors. Ac- cordingly, he engaged Robert Bridges (the present editor of Scribner's Magazine) to write a series of conversa- tional book-talks tmder his nom de plume of "Droch." Later, this was supplemented by the engagement of Hamilton W. Mabie, who for years reviewed the newest books. In almost every issue of the magazine there appeared also an article addressed to the literary novice. Bok was eager, of course, to attract the new authors to the maga- zine; but, particularly, he had m mind the correction of the popular notion, then so prevalent (less so to-day, fortimately, but still existent), that only the manuscripts of famous authors were given favorable reading in edi- torial ofl&ces; that in these oflBces there really existed a clique, and that unless the writer knew the literary back-stairs he had a slim chance to enter and be heard. In the nainds of these misinformed writers, these back-stairs are gained by " knowing the editor " or through " having some influence with him." These 291 292 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK writers have conclusively settled two points in their own minds: first, that an editor is antagonistic to the struggling writer; and, second, that a manuscript sent in the ordinary manner to an editor never reaches him. Hence, some "influence" is necessary, and they set about to secure it. Now, the truth is, of course, that there are no "liter- ary back-stairs" to the editorial office of the modem magazine. There cannot be. The making of a modern magazine is a business proposition; the editor is there to make it pay. He can do this only if he is of service to his readers, and that depends on his ability to obtain a class of material essentially the best of its kind and varied in its character. The "best," while it means good writing, means also that it shall say something. The most desired writer in the magazine office is the man who has something to say, and knows how to say it. Variety requires that there shall be many of these writers, and it is the edi- tor's business to ferret them out. It stands to reason, therefore, that there can be no such thing as a "cUque"; limitation by the editor of his list of authors would mean being limited to the style of the few and the thoughts of a handful. And with a public that easily tires even of the best where it continually comes from one source, such an editorial policy would be suicidal. Hence, if the editor is more keenly alert for one thing than for another, it is for the new writer. The fre- quency of the new note in his magazine is his salvation; for just in proportion as he can introduce that new note is his success with his readers. A successful magazine THE LITERARY BACK-STAIRS 293 is exactly like a successful store: it must keep its wares constantly fresh and varied, to attract the eye and hold the patronage of its customers. With an editor ever alive to the new message, the new note, the fresh way of sa3dng a thing, the new angle on a current subject, whether in article or story — since fiction is really to-day only a reflection of modern thought — the foolish notion that an editor must be ap- proached through "influence," by a letter of introduc- tion from some friend or other author, falls of itself. There is no more powerful lever to open the modern magazine door than a postage-stamp on an envelope containing a manuscript that says something. No in- fluence is needed to bring that manuscript to the edi- tor's desk or to his attention. That he will receive it the sender need not for a moment doubt; his mail is too closely scanned for that very envelope. The most successful authors have "broken into" the magazines very often without even a letter accompany- ing their first manuscript. The name and address in the right-hand comer of the first page; some "return" stamps in the left corner, and aU that the editor re- quires is there. The author need teU nothing about the manuscript; if what the editor wants is in it he wUl find it. An editor can stand a tremendous amount of letting alone. If young authors could be made to reaHze how simple is the process of "breaking into" the modern magazine, which apparently gives them such needless heartburn, they would save themselves infinite pains, time, and worry. Despite all the rubbish written to the contrary, manu- 2Q4 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK scripts sent to the magazines of to-day are, in every case, read, and frequently more carefully read than the author imagines. Editors know that, from the stand- point of good business alone, it is imwise to return a manuscript unread. Literary talent has been foimd in many instances where it was least expected. This does not mean that every manuscript received by a magazine is read from first page to last. There is no reason why it should be, any more than that aU of a bad egg should be eaten to prove that it is bad. The title alone sometimes decides the fate of a manuscript. If the subject discussed is entirely foreign to the aims of the magazine, it is simply a case of misapplication on iJie auUior's part; and it would be a waste of time for the editor to read something which he knows from its subject he cannot use. This, of course, applies more to articles than to other forms of literary work, although imsuitability in a poem is naturally as quickly detected. Stories, no matter how mipromising they may appear at the beginning, are generally read through, since gold in a piece of fiction has often been found almost at the close. This careful attention to manuscripts in editorial offices is fixed by rules, and an author's indorsement or a friend's judg- ment never affects the custom. At no time does th^ fallacy hold in a magazine office that "a big name coimts for everything and an imknown name for nothing." There can be no denial of the fact that where a name of repute is attached to a meritorious story or article the combination is ideal. But as be- tween an indifferent story and a weU-known name and THE LITERARY BACK-STAIRS 295 a good story with an unknown name the editor may be depended upon to accept the latter. Editors are very careful nowadays to avoid the pubhc impatience that invariably follows upon publi^ng material simply on account of the name attached to it. Nothing so quickly injures the reputation of a magazine in the estimation of its readers. If a person, taking up a magazine, reads a story attracted by a famous name, and the story dis- appoints, the editor has a doubly disappointed reader on his hands: a reader whose high expectations from the name have not been realized and who is disappointed with the story. It is a well-known fact among successful magazine editors that their most striking successes have been made by material to which unknown names were at- tached, whete the material was fresh, the approach new, the note different. That is what builds up a magazine; the reader leams to have confidence in what he finds in the periodical, whether it bears a famous name or not. Nor must the young authcw: believe that the best work in modem magazine literature "is dashed off at white heat." What is dashed off reads dashed off, and one does not come across it in tlie well-edited magazine, be- cause it is never accepted. Good writing is laborious writing, the result of revision upon revision. The work of masters such as Robert Louis Stevenson and Rudyard Kipling represents never less liian eight or ten revisions, and often a far greater number. It was Stevenson who once said to Edward Bok, after a laborious correction of certain proofs: "My boy, I could be a healthy man, I think, if I did something else than writing. But to 296 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK write, as I try to write, takes every ounce of my vital- ity." Just as the best "impromptu" speeches are those most carefully prepared, so do the simplest articles and stories represent the hardest kind of work; the simpler the method seems and the easier the article reads, the harder, it is safe to say, was the work put into it. But the author must also know when to let his ma- terial alone. In his excessive regard for style even so great a master as Robert Louis Stevenson robbed his work of much of the spontaneity and natural charm found, for example, in his Vailima Letters. The main thing is for a writer to say what he has to say in the best way, natural to himself, in which he can say it, and then let it alone — always remembering that, provided he has made himself clear, the message itself is of greater im- port than the manner in which it is said. Up to a certain point only is a piece of Uterary work an artistic endeavor. A readable, lucid style is far preferable to what is called a "literary style" — a foohsh phrase, since it often means nothing except a complicated method of expression which confuses rather than clarifies thought. What the pubUc wants in its literature is hmnan na- ture, and that human nature simply and forcibly ex- pressed. This is fundamental, and this is why true literature has no fashion and knows no change, despite the cries of the modern weaklings who affect weird forms. The clarity of Shakespeare is the clarity of to-day and wiU be that of to-morrow. CHAPTER XXVII WOMEN'S CLUBS AND WOMAN SUFFRAGE Edward Bok was now jumping from one sizzling frjdng-pan into another. He had become vitaUy in- terested in the growth of women's clubs as a power for good, and began to foUow their work and study their methods. He attended meetings; he had his editors attend others and give him reports; he collected and read the year-books of scores of clubs, and he secured and read a number of the papers that had been pre- sented by members at these meetings. He saw at once that what might prove a wonderful power in the civic life of the nation was being misdirected into gatherings of pseudo-culture, where papers ill-digested and mostly copied from books were read and superficially discussed. Apparently the average club thought nothing of dis- posing of the works of the Victorian poets in one after- noon; the ItaUan Renaissance was "fully treated and most ably discussed," according to one programme, at a single meeting; Rembrandt and his school were like- wise di^osed of in one afternoon, and German litera- ture was "adequately treated" at one session "in able papers." Bok gathered a mass of this material, and then paid his respects to it in the magazine. He recited his evi- dence and then expressed his opinion of it. He realized that his arraignment of the clubs would cost the maga- 297 298 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK zine hundreds of friends; but, convinced of the great power of the woman's club with its activities rightly di- rected, he ccaickided that he could afford to risk in- curring di^leasure if he might pdnt the way to more effective work. TTie one was worth the other. The displeasure was not slow in making itself mani- fest. It came to maturity overnight, as it were, and expressed itself in no uncertain terms. Every club flew to arms, and Bok was intensely interested to note that the clubs whose work he had taken as "horrible examples," although he had not mentioned their names, were the most strenuous in their denials of the methods outlined in the magazine, and that the members of those clubs were particularly heated in their attacks upon him. He soon found that he had stirred up quite as active a hornet's nest as he had anticipated. Letters by the hundred poured in attacking and reviling him. In nearly every case the writers fell back upon personal abuse, ignoring his arguments altogether. He became the subject of heated debates at club meetings, at con- ventions, in the public press; and soon long petitions demanding his removal as editor began to come to Mr. Curtis. These petitions were signed by hundreds of names. Bok read them with absorbed interest, and bided his time for action. Meanwhile he continued his articles of criticism in the magazine, and these, of course, added fuel to the conflagration. Former President Cleveland now came to Bok's side, and in an article in the magazine went even further than Bok had ever thought of going in his criticism of WOMEN'S CLUBS AND WOMAN SUFFRAGE 299 women's clubs. This article deflected the criticism from Bok momentarily, and Mr. Cleveland received a grilling to which his experiences in the White House were "as child's play," as he expressed it. The two men, the editor and the former President, were now bracketed as copartners in crime in the eyes of the club-women, and nothing too harsh could be found to say or write of either. " Meanwhile Bok had been watching the petitions for his removal which kept coming in. He was looking for an opening, and soon found it. One of the most prominent women's clubs sent a protest condemning his attitude and advising him by resolutions, which were enclosed, that unless he ceased his attacks, the members of the Woman's Club had resolved "to unitedly and unanimously boycott The Ladies' Home Journal and had already put the plan into eflfect with the current issue." Bok immediately engaged counsel in the city where the club was situated, and instructed his lawyer to begin proceedings, for violation of the Sherman Act, against the president and the secretary of the club, and three other members; counsel to take particular pains to choose, if possible, the wives of three lawyers. Within forty-eight hours Bok heard from the husbands of the five wives, who pointed out to him that the women had acted in entire ignorance of the law, and sug- gested a reconsideration of his action. Bok rephed by quoting from the petition which set forth that it was signed "by the most intelligent women of who were thoroughly versed in civic and national affairs"; 300 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK and if this were true, Bok argued, it naturally followed that they must have been cognizant of a legislative measure so well known and so widely discussed as the Sherman Act. He was basing his action, he said, merely on their declaration. Bok could easily picture to himself the chagrin and wrath of the women, with the husbands laughing up their sleeves at the turn of affairs. "My wife never could see the humor in the situation," said one of these husbands to Bok, when he met him years later. Bok capitulated, and then apparently with great reluctance, only when the club sent him an official withdrawal of the protest and an apology for "its ill-considered ac- tion." It was years after that one of the members of the club, upon meeting Bok, said to him: "Your action did not increase the club's love for you, but you taught it a nmch-needed lesson which it never forgot." Up to this time, Bok had purposely been destructive in his criticism. Now, he pointed out a constructive plan whereby the woman's club could make itself a power in every community. He advocated less of the cultural and more of the civic interest, and urged that the clubs study the numerous questions dealing with the life of their communities. This seems strange, in view of the enormous amount of civic work done by women's clubs to-day. But at that time, when the woman's club movement was unformed, these civic matters found but a small part in the majority of programmes; in a num- ber of cases none at all. Of course, the clubs refused to accept or even to con- sider his suggestions; they were quite competent to WOMEN'S CLUBS AND WOMAN SUFFRAGE 301 decide for themselves the particular subjects for their meetings, they argued; they did not care to be tutored or guided, particularly by Bok. They were much too angry with him even to admit that his suggestions were practical and in order. But he knew, of course, that they would adopt them of their own volition — under cover, perhaps, but that made no difference, so long as the end was accomplished. One club after another, during the fottowing years, changed its programme, and soon the siif^osed cultural interest had yielded first place to the needful civic questions. For years, however, the clubwomen of America did not forgive Bok. They refused to buy or countenance his maga^ne, and periodically they attacked it or made light of it. Bnt he knew he had made his point, and was content to leave it to time to heal the wounds. This came years afterward, when Mrs. Penn3rpacker became president of the General Federation of Women's Clubs and Mrs. Rudolph Blankenburg, vice-president. Those two far-seeing women and Bok arranged that an official department of the Federation should find a place in The Ladies^ Heme Journal, with Mrs. Penny- packer as editor and Mrs. Blankenburg, who lived in Philadelphia, as the resident consulting editor. The idea was arranged agreeably to all three; the Federation officially endorsed its president's suggestion, and for several years the department was one of the most suc- cessful in the magazine. The breach had been healed; two powerful forces were working together, as they should, for the mutual good of the American woman. No relations could have 302 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK been pleasanter than those between the editor-in-chief of the magazine and the two departmental editors. The report was purposely set afloat that Bok had withdrawn from his position of antagonism (?) toward women's clubs, and this gave great satisfaction to thousands of women club-members and made everybody happy ! At this time the question of suffrage for women was fast becoming a prominent issue, and naturally Bok was asked to take a stand on the question in his magazine. No man sat at a larger gateway to learn the sentiments of numbers of women on any subject. He read his vast correspondence carefully. He constilted women of every grade of intelligence and in every station in hfe. Then he caused a straw-vote to be taken among a selected list of thousands of his subscribers in large cities and in small towns. The result of aU these inquiries was most emphatic and clear: by far the overwhelming majority of the women approached either were opposed to the ballot or were indifferent to it. Those who desired to try the experiment were negligible in number. So far as the sentiment of any wide public can be secured on any given topic, this seemed to be the dominant opinion. Bok then instituted a systematic investigation of con- ditions in those states where women had voted for years; but he could not see, from a thoughtful study of his in- vestigations, that much had been accomplished. The results certainly did not measure up to the prophecies constantly advanced by the advocates of a nation-wide equal suffrage. The editor now carefully looked into the speeches of the suffragists, examined the platform of the National WOMEN'S CLUBS AND WOMAN SUFFRAGE 303 body in favor of woman suffrage, and talked. at length with such leaders in the movement as Susan B. Anthony, Julia Ward Howe, Anna Howard Shaw, and Jane Addams. All this time Bok had kept his own mind open. He was ready to have the magazine, for whose editorial policy he was responsible, advocate that side of the issue which seemed for the best interests of the American woman. The arguments that a woman should not have a vote because she was a woman; that it would interfere with her work in the home; that it would make her more masculine; that it would take her out of her own home; that it was a blow at domesticity and an actual men- ace to the home hfe of America — ^these did not weigh with him. There was only one question for him to settle: Was the ballot something which, in its demon- strated value or in its potentiality, would serve the best interests of American womanhood? After aU his investigations of both sides of the ques- tion, Bok decided upon a negative answer. He felt that American women were not ready to exercise the privilege intelligently and that their mental attitude was against it. Forthwith he said so in his magazine. And the storm broke. The denunciations brought down upon him by his attitude toward woman's clubs was as nothing compared to what was now let loose. The attacks were bitter. His arguments were ignored; and the suffragists evidently decided to concentrate their criticisms upon the youthful years of the editor. They regarded this as a most vulnerable point of attack, and reams of paper 304 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK were used to prove that the opinion of a man so young in years and so necessarily unformed in his judgment was of no value. Unfortunately, the sufifragists did not know, when they advanced this argument, that it would be over-, thrown by the endorsement of Bok's point of view by, such men and women of years and ripe judgment as Doctor EUot, then president of Harvard University, former President Cleveland, Lyman Abbott, Margaret Beland, and others. When articles by these exponents to suffrage appeared, the argument of youth hardly held good; and the attacks of the suffragists were quickly shifted to the ground of "narrow-mindedness and old- fashioned fogyism." The article by former President Cleveland particu- larly stirred the ire of the attacking suffragists, and Miss Anthony hurled a broadside at the former President in a newspaper interview. Unfortunately for her best judg- ment, and the strength of her argument, the attack became intensely personal; and of course, nullified its force. But it irritated Mr. Cleveland, who called Bok to his Princeton home and read him a draft of a proposed answer for pubhcation in Bok's magazine. Those who knew Mr. Cleveland were weU. aware of, the force that he could put into his pen when he chose, and in this proposed article he certainly chose! It would have made very unpleasant reading for Miss Anthony in particular, as well as for her friends. Bok argued strongly against the article. He reminded Mr. Cleveland that it would be undignified to make such an answer; that it was always an unpopular thing to WOMEN'S CLUBS AND WOMAN SUFFRAGE 305 attack a woman in public, especially a woman who was old and iU; that she would again strive for the last word; that there would be no point to the controversy and noth- ing gained by it. He pleaded with Mr. Cleveland to meet Miss Anthony's attack by a dignified silence. These arguments happily prevailed. In reality, Mr. Cleveland was not keen to attack Miss Anthony or any other woman; such a thought was foreign to his nature. He summed up his feeling to Bok when he tore up the draft of his article and smilingly said: "Well, I've got it off my chest, that is the main thing. I wanted to get it out of my system, and talking it over has driven it out. It is better in the fire," and he threw the torn paper into the open grate. As events turned out, it was indeed fortunate that the matter had been so decided; for the article would have appeared in the number of Bok's magazine published on the day that Miss Anthony passed away. It would have been a most unfortunate moment, to say the least, for the appearance of an attack such as Mr. Cleveland had in mind. This incident, like so many instances that might be adduced, points with singular force to the value of that editorial discrimination which the editor often makes between what is wise or unwise for him to publish. Bok realized that had he encouraged Mr. Cleveland to publish the article, he could have exhausted any edition he nnght have chosen to print. Times without number, editors miake such decisions directly against what would be of temporary advantage to their publicatioas. The public never hears of these incidents. 3o6 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK More often than not the editor hears "stories" that, if printed j would be a "scoop" which would cause his publication to be talked about from one end of the coim- try to the other. The public does not give credit to the editor, particularly of the modern newspaper, for the high code of honor which constantly actuates him in his work. The prevailing notion is that an editcwr prints aE that he knows, and much that he does not know. Outside of those in the inner government circles, no group of men, during the Great War, had more informa- tion of a confidential nature constantly given or brought to them, and more zealously guarded it, than the editors of the newspapers of America. Among no other set of professional men is the code of honor so high; and woe betide the journalist who, in the eyes of his feUow-work- ers, violates, even in the slightest degree, that code of editorial ethics. Public men know how true is this statement; the public at large, however, has not the first conception of it. If it had, it would have a much higher opinion of its periodicals and newspapers. At this juncture, Rudyard Kipling unconsciously came into the very centre of the suffragists' maelstrom of attack when he sent Bok his famous poem: "The Fe- male of the Species." The suffragists at once took the argument in the poem as personal to themselves, and now Kipling got the full benefit of their vitriolic abuse. Bok sent a handful of these criticisms to Kipling, who was very gleeful about them. "I owe you a good laugh over the clippings," he wrote. "They were delightful. But what a quantity of spare time some people in this world have to bum !" WOMEN'S CLUBS AND WOMAN SUFFRAGE 307 It was a merry time; and the longer it continued the more heated were the attacks. The suffragists now had a number of targets, and they took each in turn and proceeded to riddle it. That Bok was publish- ing articles explaining both sides of the question, pre- senting arguments by the leading suffragists as well as known anti-suffragists, did not matter in the least. These were either conveniently overlooked, or, when referred to at all, were ccmsidered in the light of "sops" to the offended women. At last Bok reached the stage where he had exhausted aU the argxmients worth printing, on both sides of the question, and soon the storm calmed down. It was always a matter of gratification to him that the woman who had most bitterly assailed him during the suffrage controversy, Anna Howard Shaw, became in later years one of his stanchest friends, and was an editor on his pay-roll. When the United States entered the Great War, Bok saw that Doctor Shaw had under- taken a gigantic task in promising, as chairman, to direct the activities of the National Council for Women. He went to see her in Washington, and offered his help and that of the magazine. Doctor Shaw, kindliest of women in her nature, at once accepted the offer; Bok placed the entire resources of the magazine and of its Washington editorial force at her disposal; and all through America's participation in the war, she success- fully conducted a monthly department in The Ladies' Home Journal. "Such help," she wrote at the close, "as you and your associates have extended me and my co-workers; 3o8 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK such unstinted co-operation and such practical guidance I never ^ould have dreamed possible. You made your magaziiie a living force in our work; we do not see now how we would have done without it. You came into our activities at the psychological moment, when we most needed what you could give us, and none could have given with more open hands and fuller hearts." So the contending forces in a bitter word-war came to- gether and worked together, and a mutual regard ^rang up between the woman and the man who had once so radically differed. CHAPTER XXVm GOING HOME WITH KIPLING, AND AS A LECTURER It was in June, 1899, when Rudyard Kipling, after the loss of his daughter and his own almost fatal illness from pneumonia in America, sailed for his Enghsh home on the White Star liner, Teutomc. The party consisted of Kipling, his wife, his father J.. Lockwood Kipling, Mr. and Mrs. Frank N. Doubleday, and Bok. It was only at the last moment that Bok deckled to join the party, and the steamer having its full complement of passengers, he could only secure one of the (Peers' large rooms on tiie upper deck. Owing to the sensitive con- dition of Kipling's lungs, it was not wise for him to be out on deck except in the most favorable weather. The atmo^here of lie smoking-room was forbidding, and as the rooms of the rest of the party were below deck, it was decided to make Bok's conveniait room the head- quarters of the party. Here they assanbled for the best part of each day; the talk ranged over literary and pubhdiing matters of mutual interest, and Kipling promptly labelled the room "The Hatchery," — ^from the plans and schemes that were hatched during these dis- cussions. It was decided on the first day out that the party, too active-minded to remain inert for any length of time, should publish a daily newspaper to be written on large sheets of paper and to be read each evening to the group. 3=9 3IO THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK It was calkd The Teuton Tonic; Mr. Doubleday was appointed publisher and advertising manager; Mr. Lockwood Kipling was made art editor to embellish the news; Rudyard Kipling was the star reporter, and Bok was editor. Kipling, just released from his long confiinement, like a boy out of school, was the life of the party — and when, one day, he found a woman aboard reading a copy of The Ladies' Home Journal his joy knew no bounds; he turned in the most inimitable "copy" to the Tonic, describing the woman's feeHngs as she read the differ- ent departments in the magazine. Of course, Bok, as editor of the Tonic, promptly pigeon-holed the re- porter's "copy"; then relented, and, in a fine spirit of large-mindedness, "printed" Kipling's paeans of rapture over Bok's subscriber. The preparation of the paper was a daily joy: it kept the different members busy, and each evening the copy was handed to "the large circle of readers" — the two women of the party — to read aloud. At the end of the sixth day, it was voted to "suspend publication," and the daily of six issues was unanimously bequeathed to the little daughter of Mr. Lockwood de Forest, a close friend of the Kiphng famUy — a choice bit of Kiplingania. One day it was decided by the party that Bok should be taught the game of poker, and Kipling at once offered to be the instructor ! He wrote out a list of the ' ' hands " for Bok's guidance, which was placed in the centre of the table, and the party, augmented by the women, gathered to see the game. A baby had been bom that evening in the steerage, GOING HOME WITH KIPLING 311 and it was decided to inaugurate a small "jack-pot" for the benefit of the mother. All went well until about the fourth hand, when Bok began to bid higher than had been originally planned. Kipling questioned the beginner's knowledge of the game and his tactics, but Bok retorted it was his money that he was putting into the pot and that no one was compelled to follow his bets if he did not choose to do so. Finally, the jack-pot assiuned altogether too large dimensions for the party, Kipliag "called" and Bok, true to the old idea of "beginner's luck" in cards, laid down a royal flush ! This was too much, and poker, with Bok in it, was taboo from that moment. Kipling's version of this card-playing does not agree in all particulars with the version here written. "Bok learned the game of poker," Kipling says; "had the deck stacked on him, and on hearing that there was a woman aboard who read The Ladies' Home Journal insisted on playing after that with the cabin-door carefully shut." But Kip- ling's art as a reporter for The Tonic was not as reliable as the art of his more careful book work. Bok derived special pleasure on this trip from his acquaintance with Father Kipling, as the party called him. Rudyard Kipling's respect for his father was the tribute of a loyal son to a wonderful father. "What annoys me," said Kipling, speaking of his father one day, "is when the pater comes to America to have him referred to in the newspapers as ' the father of Rudyard Kipling.' It is in India where they get the relation correct: there I am always 'the son of Lock- wood Kipling.'" 312 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK Father Kipling was, in every sense, a choice spirit: gentle, kindly, and of a most remarkably even tempera- ment. His knowedge of art, his wide reading, his ex- tensive travel, and an interest in every phase of the world's doings, made him a rare conversationalist, when inclined to talk, and an encyclopaedia of knowledge as extensive as it was accurate. It was very easy to grow fond of Father KipHng, and he won Bok's affection as few men ever did. Father Kipling's conversation was remarkable in that he was exceedingly careful of language and wasted few words. One day Kipling and Bok were engaged in a discus- sion of the Boer problem, which was then pressing. Father Kipling sat by listening, but made no comment on the divergent views, since, Kipling holding the Eng- lish side of the question and Bok the Dutch side, it followed that they could not agree. Finally Father Kipling arose and said: "Well, I will take a stroll and see if I can't listen to the water and get all this din out of my ears." Both men felt gently but firmly rebuked and the dis- cussion was never again taken up. Bok tried on one occasion to ascertain how the father regarded the son's work. " You should feel pretty proud of your son," remarked Bok. "A good sort," was the simple reply. "I mean, rather, of his work. How does that strike you?" asked Bok. "Which work?" GOING HOME WITH KIPLING 313 "His work as a whole," explained Bok. "Creditable," was the succinct answer. "No more tiian that?" asked Bok. "Can there be more?" came from the father. "Well," said Bok, "the judgment seems a little tame as appUed to one who is generally regarded as a genius." 'By whom?" "The critics, for instance," replied Bok. "There are no such," came the answer. "No such what, Mr. Kipling?" asked Bok. "Critics." "No critics?" "No," and for the first time the pipe was removed for a moment. "A critic is one who only exists as such in his own imagination." "But surely you must consider that Rud has done some great work?" persisted Bok. "Creditable," came once more. "You think him capable of great work, do you not?" asked Bok. For a moment there was silence. Then: "He has a certain grasp of the human instinct. That, some day, I think, will lead him to write a great work." There was the secret: the constant holding up to the son, apparently, of something still to be accomplished; of a goal to be reached; of a higher standard to be at- tained. Rudyard Kiphng was never in danger of un- intelligent laudation from his safest and most intelligent reader. During the years which intervened until his passing away, Bok sought to keep in touch with Father Kip- ling, and received the most wonderful letters from him. 314 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK One day he enclosed in a letter a drawing which he had made showing Sakia Muni sitting under the bo-tree with two of his disciples, a young man and a young woman, gathered at his feet. It was a piece of exquisite drawing. "I like to think of you and your work in this way," wrote Mr. Kipling, "and so I sketched it for you." Bok had the sketch enlarged, engaged John La Farge to translate it into glass, and uiserted it in a window in the living-room of his home at Merion. After Father Kipling had passed away, the express brought to Bok one day a beautiful plaque of red clay, showing the elephant's head, the lotus, and the swastika, which the father had made for the son. It was the original model of the insignia which, as a watermark, is used in the pages of Kipling's books and on the cover of the subscription edition. "I am sending with this for your acceptance," wrote Kipling to Bok, "as some little memory of my father to whom you were so kind, the original of one of the plaques that he used to make for me. I thought it being the swastika would be appropriate for your swastika. May it bring you even more good fortune." To those who knew Lockwood Kipling, it is easier to understand the genius and the kindhness of the son. For the sake of the public's knowledge, it is a distinct loss that there is not a better imderstanding of the real sweetness of character of the son. The public's only idea of the great writer is naturally one derived from writers who do not understand him, or from reporters whom he refused to see, while Kipling's own slogan is expressed in his own words: "I have always managed GOING HOME WITH KIPLING 315 i» ■Z/- 5^»v- .^fe«y '<^*'^ ^A-i^ ^^^ 't'-^ ^ <5a-, "^ /tKO- ; IfU^iJ- /Xatc Sire c^w^Ctf-o^^W ^cm'^ '^ la-ma-i •%/- ^fu. £«M, Sfm^„^ U A*»i. /Xk. Vuj^ •pat^'M tji^^i,*,. /tKO. Strt^ »^ct. {iM^eeC i^ «^ £y^ Itf^'H.-otcft- GnAi A>w^ A«*, a«,X */Sm^ *^*l*;v A«^ y*"^ ♦^*'-**'*»^ i/- >l^ t-^,w /*>««. %»07- j£t**^'k.J ■•(M.se •W fc««*rf- ^ . I. CO. 'Safe <~- A; sz) ""TitiM*^. 3i6 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK to keep clear of 'personal' things as much as possi- ble." It was on Bok's fiftieth birthday that Kipling sent him a copy of " If." Bok had greatly admired this poem, but knowing KipUng's distaste for writing out his own work, he had resisted the strong desire to ask him for a copy of it. It is significant of the author's remarkable memory that he wrote it, as he said, "from memory," years after its publication, and yet a comparison of the copy with the printed form, corrected by Kipling, fails to discover the difference of a single word. The lecture bureaus now desired that Edward Bok should go on the platform. Bok had never appeared in the role of a lecturer, but he reasoned that through the medium of the rostrum he might come in closer contact with the American public, meet his readers per- sonally, and secure some first-hand constructive criti- cism of his work. This last he was always encouraging. It was a naive conception of a lecture tour, but Bok believed it and he contracted for a tour beginning at Richmond, Virginia, and continuing through the South and Southwest as far as Saint Joseph, Missouri, and then back home by way of the Middle West, Large audiences greeted him wherever he went, but he had not gone far on his tour when he realized that he was not getting what he thought he would. There was much entertaining and lionizing, but nothing to help him in his work by pointing out to him where he could better it. He shrank from the pitiless publicity that was inevitable; he became more and more self- AS A LECTURER 317 conscious when during the first five minutes on the stage he felt the hundreds of opera-classes levelled at him, and he and Mrs. Bok, who accompanied him, had not a moment to themselves from early morning to midnight. Yet his large correspondence was following him from the office, and the inevitable invitations in each city had at least to be acknowledged. Bok real- ized he had miscalculated the benefits of a lecture tour to his work, and began hopefully to wish for the ending of the circuit. One afternoon as he was returning with his man- ager from a large reception, the "impresario" said to him: "I don't like these receptions. They hurt the house." "The house?" echoed Bok. "Yes, thc' attendance." "But you told me the house for this evening was sold out?" said the lecturer. "That is true enough. House, and even the stage. Not a seat unsold. But hundreds just come to see you and not to hear your lecture, and this exposure of a lec- turer at so crowded a reception as this, before the talk, satisfies the people without their buying a ticket. My rule is that a lecturer should not be seen in public be- fore his lecture, and I wish you would let me enforce the rule with you. It wears you out, anyway, and no re- ceptions until afterward will give you more time for yourself and save your vitality for the talk." Bok was entirely acquiescent. He had no personal taste for the continued round of functions, but he had accepted it as part of the game. 3i8 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK The idea from this talk that impressed Bok, however, with particular force, was that the people who crowded his houses came to see him and not to hear his lecture. Personal curiosity, in other words. This was a new thought. He had been too busy to think of his per- sonaUty; now he realized a different angle to the situ- ation. And, much to his manager's astonishment, two days afterwards Bok refused to sign an agreement for another tour later in the year. He had had enough of exhibiting himself as a curiosity. He continued his tour; but before its conclusion fell iU — a misfortime with a pleasant side to it, for three of his engagements had to be cancelled. The Saint Joseph engagement could not be cancelled. The house had been oversold; it was for the benefit of a local charity which besought Bok by wire after wire to keep a postponed date. He agreed, and he went. He realized that he was not well, but he did not realize the extent of his mental and physical exhaustion xmtil he came out on the platform and faced the crowded audi- torium. Barely sufi&cient space had been left for Iiitti and for the speaker's desk; the people on the stage were close to him, and he felt distinctly imcomfortable. Then, to his consternation, it suddenly dawned upon him that his tired mind had played a serious trick on him. He did not remember a line of his lecture; he could not even recall how it began ! He arose, after his introduction, in a bath of cold perspiration. The ap- plaiise gave him a moment to recover himself, but not a word came to his mind. He sparred for time by some informal prefatory remarks expressing re^et at his AS A LECTURER 319 illness and that he had been compelled to disappoint his audience a few days before, and then he stood help- less ! In sheer desperation he looked at Mrs. Bok sitting in the stage box, who, divining her husband's plight, motioned to the inside pocket of his coat. He put his hand there and pulled out a copy of his lecture which she had placed there ! The whole tragic comedy had happened so quickly that the audience was absolutely unaware of what had occurred, and Bok went on and practically read his lecture. But it was not a successful evening for his audience or for himself, and the one was doubtless as glad when it was over as the other. When he reached home, he was convinced that he had had enough of lecturing ! He had to make a second short tour, however, for which he had contracted with an- other manager before embarking on the first. This tour took him to IndianapoUs, and after the lecture, James Whitcomb Riley gave him a supper. TTiere were some thirty men in the party; the affair was an exceed- ingly happy one; the happiest that Bok had attended. He said this to Riley on the way to the hotel. "Usually," said Bok, "men, for some reason or other, hold aloof from me on these lecture tours. They stand at a distance and eye me, and I see wonder on their faces rather than a desire to mix." "You've noticed that, then?" smilingly asked the poet. "Yes, and I can't quite get it. At home, my friends are men. Why should it be different in other cities ? " "I'll tell you," said Riley. "Five or six of the men you met to-night were loath to come. When I pinned 320 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK them down to their reason, it was as I thought: they regard you as an effeminate being, a sissy." "Good heavens!" interrupted Bok. "Fact," said Riley, "and you cant wonder at it nor blame them. You have been most industriously paragraphed, in countless jests, about your penchant for pink teas, your expert knowledge of tatting, crochet- ing, and all that sort of stuff. Look what Eugene Field has done in that direction. These paragraphs have, doubtless, been good advertising for your magazine, and, in a way, for you. But, on the other hand, they have given a false impression of you. Men have taken these paragraphs seriously and they think of you as the man pictured in them. It's a fact; I know. It's all right after they meet you and get your measure. The joke then is on them. Four of the men I fairly dragged to the dinner this evening said this to me just before I left. That is one reason why I advise you to keep on lecturing. Get around and show yourself, and correct this universal impression. Not that you can't stand what men think of you, but it's unpleasant." It was unpleasant, but Bok decided that the solu- tion as found in lecturing was worse than the miscon- ception. From that day to this he never lectured again. But the public conception of himself, eq)ecially that of men, awakened his interest and amusement. Some of his friends on the press were stiU busy with their para- graphs, and he promptly called a halt and asked them to desist. "Enough was as good as a feast," he told them, and explained why. One day Bok got a distinctly amusing line tions were in twelve monthly payments, a total of fifteen and a half million dollars was paid in and turned over to the different agencies. Bok, who had been appointed one of the Boy Scout commissioners in his home district of Merion, saw the possibilities of the Boy Scouts in the Liberty Loan and other campaigns. Working in co-operation with the other commissioners, and the scoutmaster of the Merion Troop, Bok supported the boys in their work in each campaign as it came along. Although there were in the troop only nine boys, in ages ranging from twelve to fourteen years — ^Bok's younger son was one of them — so effectively did these yoimgsters work imder the in- spiration of the scoutmaster, Thomas Dun Belfield, that they soon attracted general attention and acquired dis- tinction as one of the most efficient troops in the vicinity of Philadelphia. They won nearly aU the prizes offered in their vicinity, and elicited the special approval of the Secretary of the Treasury. Although only "gleaners" in most of the campaigns — that is, working only in the last three days after the regular committees had scoured the neighborhood — tiiese Merion Boy Scouts sold over one million four hun- dred thousand doUars in Liberty Bonds, and raised enough money in the Y. M. C. A. campaign to erect one of the largest huts in France for the army boys, and 400 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK a Y. M. C. A. gymnasium at the League Island Navy Yard accommodating two thousand saUor-boys. In the summer of 1918, the eight leading war-work agencies, excepting the Red Cross, were merged, for the purpose of one drive for fimds, into the United War Work Campaign, and Bok was made chairman for Penn- sylvania. In November a country-wide campaign was launched, the quota for Pennsylvania being twenty mil- lions of dollars — the largest amoimt ever asked of the commonwealth. Bok organized a committee of the representative men of Pennsylvania, and proceeded to set up the machinery to secure the huge sum. He had no sooner done this, however, than he had to sail for France, returning only a month before the beginning of the campaign. But the efficient committee had done its work; upon his return Bok found the organization complete. On the first day of the campaign, the false rmnor that an armistice had been signed made the raising of the large amount seem almost hopeless; furthermore, owing to the influenza raging throughout the commonwealth, no public meetings had been permitted or held. Still, despite all these obstacles, not only was the twenty millions subscribed but oversubscribed to the extent of nearly a million dollars; and in face of the fact that every penny of this large total had to be collected after the signing of the armistice, twenty milUons of dollars was paid in and turned over to the war agen- cies. It is indeed a question whether any single war act on the part of the people of Pennsylvania redounds WAR ACTIVITIES 401 SO highly to their credit as this marvellous evidence of patriotic generosity. It was one form of patriotism to subscribe so huge a sum while the war was on and the guns were firing; it was quite another and a higher pa- triotism to subscribe and pay such a siun after the war was over ! Bok's position as State chairman of the United War Work Campaign made it necessary for him to follow authoritatively and closely the work of each of the eight different organizations represented in the fund. Be- cause he felt he had to know what the Knights of Co- lumbus, the Salvation Army, the Y. W. C. A., and the others were doing with the money he had been instru- mental in collecting, and for which he felt, as chairman, responsible to the people of Pennsylvania, he learned to know their work just as thoroughly as he knew what the Y. M. C. A. was doing. He had now seen and come into personal knowledge of the work of the Y. M. C. A. from his Philadelphia point of vantage, with his official connection with it at New York headquarters; he had seen the work as it was done in the London and Paris headquarters; and he had seen the actual work in the American camps, the English rest-camps, back of the French lines, in the trenches, and as near the firing-hne as he had been per- mitted to go. He had, in short, seen the Y. M. C. A. function from every angle, but he had also seen the work of the other organizations in England and France, back of the lines and in the trenches. He found them all faulty — neces- sarily so. Each had endeavored to create an organiza- 402 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK tion within an incredibly short space of time and in the face of adverse circumstances. Bok saw at once that the charge that the Y, M. C. A. was "falling down" in its work was as false as that the Salvation Army was doing "a marvellous work" and that the K. of C. was "efficient where others were incompetent," and that the Y. W. C. A. was "nowhere to be seen." The Salvation Army was unquestionably doing an excellent piece of work within a most limited area; it could not be on a wider scale, when one considered the Umited personnel it had at its command. The work of the K. of C. was not a particle more or less efficient than the work of the other organizations. What it did, it strove to do well, but so did the others. The Y. W. C. A. made Uttle claim about its work in France, since the United States Government would not, until nearly at the close of the war, allow women to be sent over in the uniforms of any of the war-work organizations. But no one can gainsay for a single moment the efficient service rendered by the Y. W. C. A. in its hostess-house work in the American camps; that work alone would have en- titied it to the support of the American people. That of the Y. M. C. A. was on so large a scale that naturally its inefficiency was often in proportion to its magnitude. Bok was in France when the storm of criticism against the Y. M. C. A. broke out, and, as State chairman for Pennsylvania, it was his duty to meet the outcry when it came over to the United States. That the work of the Y. M. C. A. was faulty no one can deny. Bok saw the "holes" long before they were called to the attention of the public, but he also saw the almost impossible task, WAR ACTIVITIES 403 in face of prevailing difficulties, of caulking them up. No one who was not in France can form any conception of the practically insurmountable obstacles against which all the war-work organizations worked; and the larger the work the greater were the obstacles, naturally. That the Y. M. C. A. and the other simUar agencies made mistakes is not the wonder so much as that they did not make more. The real marvel is that they did so much efficient work. For after we get a little farther away from the details and see the work of these agencies in its broader aspects, when we forget the lapses — ^which, after all, though irritating and regrettable, were not major — the record as a whole will stand as a most signal piece of volunteer service. What was actually accompUshed was nothing short of marvellous; and it is this fact that must be borne in mind; not the omissions, but the commissions. And when the American public gets that point of view — as it will, and, for that matter, is already beginning to do — the work of the American Y. M. C. A. will no longer suffer for its omissions, but wUl amaze and gladden by its accomplishments. As an American officer of high rank said to Bok at Chaumont headquarters: "The mind cannot take in what the war would have been with- out the 'Y.'" And that, in time, will be the universal American opinion, extended, in proportion to their work, to all the war-work agencies and the men and women who endured, suffered, and were killed in their service. CHAPTER XXXV AT THE BATTLE-FRONTS IN THE GREAT WAR It was in the summer of 191 8 that Edward Bok re- ceived from the British Government, through its depart- ment of pubUc information, of which Lord Beaverbrook was the minister, an invitation to join a party of thirteen American editors to visit Great Britain and France. The British Government, not versed in publicity methods, was anxious that selected parties of American publicists should see, personally, what Great Britain had done, and was doing in the war; and it had decided to ask a few individuals to pay personal visits to its munition fac- tories, its great aerodromes, its Great Fleet, which then lay in the Firth of Forth, and to the battle-fields. It was understood that no specific obhgation rested upon any member of the party to write of what he saw: he was asked simply to observe and then, with discretion, use his observations for his own guidance and informa- tion in future writing. In fact, each member was ex- pHcitly told that much of what he would see could not be revealed either personally or in print. The party embarked in August amid all the at- tendant secrecy of war conditions. The steamer was known only by a number, although later it turned out to be the White Star Hner, Adriatic. Preceded by a powerftd United States cruiser, flanked by destroyers, guided overhead by observation balloons, the Adriatic 404 AT THE BATTLE-FRONTS 405 was found to be the first ship in a convoy of sixteen other ships with thirty thousand United States troops on board. It was a veritable Armada that steamed out of lower New York harbor on that early August morning, headed straight into the rising sun. But it was a voyage of un- pleasant war reminders, with life-savers carried every moment of the day, with every light out at night, with every window and door as if hermetically sealed so that the stuffy cabins deprived of sleep those accustomed to fresh air, with over sixty army men and civiHans on watch at night, with life-driUs each day, with lessons as to behavior in life-boats; and with a fleet of eighteen British destroyers meeting the convoy upon its approach to the Irish Coast after a thirteen days' voyage of con- stant anxiety. No one could say he travelled across the Atlantic Ocean in war days for pleasure, and no one did. Once ashore, the party began a series of inspections of munition plants, ship-yards, aeroplane factories and of meetings with the different members of the English War Cabinet. Luncheons and dinners were the order of each day until broken by a journey to Edinburgh to see the amazing Great Fleet, with the addition of six of the fore- most fighting machines of the United States Navy, all straining like dogs at leash, awaiting an expected dash from the bottled-up German fleet. It was a formidable sight, perhaps never equalled: those lines of huge, men- acing, and yet protecting fighting machines stretching down the river for miles, all conveying the single thought of the power and extent of the British Navy and its formidable character as a fighting unit. 406 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK It was upon his return to London that Bok learned, through the confidence of a member of the British "inner circle," the amazing news that the war was prac- tically over: that Bulgaria had capitulated and was suing for peace; that two of the Central Power provinces had indicated their strong desire that the war should end; and that the first peace intimations had gone to the President of the United States. AU diplomatic eyes were turned toward Washington. Yet not a hint of the im- pending events had reached the public. The Germans were being beaten back, that was known; it was evident that the morale of the German army was broken; that Foch had turned the tide toward victory; but even the best-informed military authorities^ outside of the inner diplomatic circles, predicted that the war would last until the spring of 1919, when a final "drive" would end it. Yet, at that very moment, the end of the war was in sight ! Next Bok went to France to visit the battle-fields. It was arranged that the party should first, imder guid- ance of British ofl&cers, visit back of the British lines; and then, successively, be turned over to the American and French Governments, and visit the operations back of their armies. It is an amusing fact that although each detail of ofl&cers delegated to escort the party "to the front" received the most expUcit instructions from their su- perior ofl&cers to take the party only to the quiet sectors where there was no fighting going on, each detail from the three governments successively brought the party directly under sheU-fire, and each on the first day of the AT THE BATTLE-FRONTS 407 "inspection." It was unconsciously done: the officers were as much amazed to find themselves under fire as were the members of the party, except that the latter did not feel the responsibility to an equal degree. The officers, in each case, were plainly worried: the editors were intensely interested. They were depressing trips through miles and miles of devastated villages and small cities. From two to three days each were spent in front-line posts on the Amiens- Bethune, Albert-Peronne, Bapaume-Soissons, St. Mihiel, and back of the Argonne sectors. Often, the party was the first civiUan group to enter a town evacuated only a week before, and aU the horrible evidence of bloody war- fare was fresh and plain. Bodies of German soldiers lay in the trenches where they had fallen; wired bombs were on every hand, so that no object could be touched that lay on the battle-fields; the streets of some of the towns were still mined, so that no automobiles could enter; the towns were deserted, the streets desolate. It was an appalling panorama of the most frightful results of war. The picturesqueness and romance of the war of picture books were missing. To stand beside an EngKsh battery of thirty guns laying a barrage as they fired their shells to a point ten miles distant, made one feel as if one were an actual part of real warfare, and yet far removed from it, until the battery was located from the enemy's "sausage observation"; then the shells from the enemy fired a return salvo, and the better part of valor was discretion a few miles farther back. The amazing part of the "show," however, was the American doughboy. Never was there a more cheerful, 4o8 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK laughing, good-natured set of boys in the world; never a more homesick, lonely, and complaining set. But good nature predominated, and the smUe was always uppermost, even when the moment looked the black- est, the privations were worst, and the longing for home the deepest. Bok had been talking to a boy who lived near his own home, who was on his way to the front and "over the top" in the Argonne mess. Three days afterward, at a hospital base where a hospital train was just dis- charging its load of wounded, Bok walked among the boys as they lay on their stretchers on the railroad plat- form waiting for bearers to carry them into the huts. As he approached one stretcher, a cheery voice called, "Hello, Mr. Bok. Here I am again." It was the boy he had left just seventy-two hours be- fore hearty and well. "Well, my boy, you v/eren't in it long, were you?" "No, sir," answered the boy; "Fritzie sure got me first thing. Hadn't gone a hundred yards over the top. Got a cigarette?" (the invariable question). Bok handed a cigarette to the boy, who then said: "Mind sticking it in my mouth?" Bok did so and then offered him a Hght; the boy continued, aU with his won- derful smUe: "If you don't mind, would you just hght it? You see, Fritzie kept both of my hooks as sou- venirs." With both arms amputated, the boy could still jest and smUe ! It was the same boy who on his hospital cot the next day said: "Don't you think you could do something for AT THE BATTLE-FRONTS 409 the chap next to me, there on my left? He's really suf- fering: cried like hell all last night. It would be a God- send if you could get Doc to do something." A promise was given that the surgeon should be seen at once, but the boy was asked: "How about you ?" "Oh," came the cheerful answer, "I'm all right. I haven't anything to hurt. My woimded members are gone — ^just plain gone. But that chap has got something — ^he got the real thing !" What was the real thing according to such a boy's idea? ^ There were beautiful stories that one heard "over there." One of the most beautiful acts of consideration was told, later, of a lovable boy whose throat had been practically shot away. During his convalescence he had learned the art of making beaded bags. It kept him from talking, the main prescription. But one day he sold the bag which he had first made to a visitor, and with his face radiant with glee he sought the nurse- mother to tell her all about his good fortune. Of course, nothing but a series of the most horrible guttural sounds came from the boy : not a word could be imderstood. It was his first venture into the world with the loss of his member, a,nd the nurse-mother could not find it in her heart to teU the boy that not a word which he spoke was understandable. With eyes full of tears she placed both of her hands on the boy's shoulders and said to him: "I am so sorry, my boy. I cannot understand a word you say to me. You evidently do not know that I am totally deaf. Won't you write what you want to teU me?" A look of deepest compassion swept the face of the 4IO THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK boy. To think that one could be so afflicted, and yet so beautifully tender and always so radiantly cheerful, he wrote her. Pathos and humor followed rapidly one upon the other "at the front" in those gruesome days, and Bok was to have his spirits hghtened somewhat by an incident of the next day. He foimd himself in one of the numerous little towns where our doughboys were billeted, some in the homes of the peasants, others in stables, bams, outhouses, lean-tos, and what not. These were the troops on their way to the front where the fighting in the Argonne Forest was at that time go- ing on. As Bok was walking with an American officer, the latter pointed to a doughboy crossing the road, fol- lowed by as disreputable a specimen of a pig as he had ever seen. Catching Bok's smile, the officer said: "That's Pinney and his porker. Where you see the one you see the other." Bok caught up with the boy, and said: "Found a friend, I see. Buddy?" "I sure have," grinned the doughboy, "and it sticks closer than a poor relation, too." "Where did you pick it up?" "Oh, in there," said the soldier, pointing to a di- lapidated bam. "Why in there?" "My home," grinned the boy. "Let me see," said Bok, and the doughboy took him in with the pig following close behind. "Billeted here — been here six days. The pig was here when we came, and the first night I lay down and slept, it came up to AT THE BATTLE-FRONTS 411 me and stuck its snout in my face and woke me up. Kind enough, all right, but not very comfortable: it stinks so." "Yes; it certainly does. What did you do?" "Oh, I got some grub I had and gave it to eat: thought it' might be hungry, you know. I guess that sort of settled it, for the next night it came again and stuck its snout right in my mug. I turned around, but it just climbed over me and there it was." "Well, what did you do then ? Chase it out ? " "Chase it out? " said the dougM)oy, looking into Bok's face with the most unaffected astonishment. "Why, mister, that's a mother-pig, that is. She's going to have young ones in a few days. How could I chase her out?" "You're quite right, Buddy," said Bok. "You couldn't do that." "Oh, no," said the boy. "The worst of it is, what am I going to do with her when we move up within a day or two ? I can't take her along to the front, and I hate to leave her here. Some one might treat her rough." "Captain," said Bok, hailing the oflBcer, "you can attend to that, can't you, when the time comes?" "I sure can, and I sure will," answered the Captain, And with a quick salute, Pinney and his porker went off across the road ! Bok was standing talking to the commandant of one of the great French army supply depots one morning. He was a man of forty; a colonel in the regular French army. An erect, sturdy-looking man with white hair and mustache, and who wore the single star of a subal- 412 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK tem on his sleeve, came up, saluted, delivered a message, and then asked: "Are there any more orders, sir?" "No," was the reply. He brought his heels together with a click, saluted again, and went away. The commandant turned to Bok with a peculiar smUe on his face and asked: "Do you know who that man is?" "No," was the reply. "That is my father^" was the answer. The father was then exactly seventy-two years old. He was a retired business man when the war broke out. After two years of the heroic struggle he decided that he couldn't keep out of it. He was too old to fight, but after long insistence he secured a commission. By one of the many curious coincidences of the war he was assigned to serve imder his own son. When under the most trying conditions, the Ameri- cans never lost their sense of fun. On the stafiE of a prison hospital in Germany, where a number of captured ;• American soldiers were being treated, a German ser- geant became quite friendly with the prisoners under his care. One day he told them that he had been ordered to active service on the front. He felt conA^nced that he would be captured by the EngUsh, and asked the Americans if they would not give him some sort of testi- monial which he could show if he were taken prisoner, so that he would not be ill-treated. The Americans were much amused at this idea, and concocted a note of introduction, written in English. The German sergeant knew no English and could not AT THE BATTLE-FRONTS 415 understand his testimonial, but he tucked it in his pocket, well satisfied. In due time, he was sent to the front and was captured by "the ladies from hell," as the Germans called the Scotch kilties. He at once presented his introduction, and his captors laughed heartily when they read: "This is L . He is not a bad sort of chap. Don't shoot him; torture him slowly to death." One evening as Bok was stroUing out after dinner a Red Cross nurse came to him, explained that she had two severely woimded boys in what remained of an old hut: that they were both from Pennsylvania, and had expressed a great desire to see him as a resident of their State. "Neither can possibly survive the night," said the nurse. "They know that?" asked Bok, "Oh, yes, but like all our boys they are l3ang there joking with each other." Bok was taken into what remained of a room in a badly shelled farmhouse, and there, on two roughly constructed cots, lay the two boys. Their faces had been bandaged so that nothing was visible except the eyes of each boy. A candle in a bottle standing on a box gave out the only light. But the eyes of the boys were smiling as Bok came in and sat down on the box on which the nurse had been sitting. He talked with the boys, got as much of their stories from them as he could, and told them such home news as he thought might interest them. After half an hoiur he arose to leave, when the nurse said: "There is no one here, Mr. Bok, to say the last 414 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK words to these boys. Will you do it?" Bok stood transfixed. In sending men over in the service of the Y. M. C. A. he had several times told them to be ready for any act that they might be asked to render, even the most sacred one. And here he stood himself before that duty. He felt as if he stood stripped before his Maker. Through the glassless window the sky ht up constantly with the flashes of the guns, and then followed the boom- ing of a shell as it landed. "Yes, won't you, sir?" asked the boy on the right cot as he held out his hand. Bok took it, and then the hand of the other boy reached out. What to say, he did not know. Then, to his surprise, he heard himself repeating extract after extract from a book by Lyman Abbott called The Other Room, a mes- sage to the bereaved declaring the non-existence of death, but that we merely move from this earth to another: from one room to another, as it were. Bok had not read the book for years, but here was the sub- conscious self suppl)dng the material for him in Ms moment of greatest need. Then he remembered that just before leaving home he had heard sxmg at matins, after the prayer for the President, a beautiful song called "Passing Souls." He had asked the rector for a copy of it; and, wondering why, he had put it in his wallet that he carried with him. He took it out now and holding the hand of the boy at his right, he read to them; For the passing souls we pray, [ Saviour, meet them on their way; Let their trust lay hold on Thee Ere they touch eternity. AT THE BATTLE-FRONTS 415 Holy counsels long forgot Breathe again 'mid shell and shot; Through the mist of life's last pain None shall look to Thee in vain. To the hearts that know Thee, Lord, Thou wilt speak through flood or sword; Just beyond the cannon's roar, Thou art on the farther shore. For the passing souls we pray. Saviour, meet them on the way; Thou wilt hear our yearning call. Who hast loved and died for all. Absolute stillness reigned in the room save for the half -suppressed sob from the nurse and the distant boom- ing of the cannon. As Bok finished, he heard the boy at his right say slowly: "Saviour — ^meet — me — on — my — ^way": withalittleemphasison theword "my." The hand in his relaxed slowly, and then fell on the cot; and he saw that the soid of another brave American boy had "gone West." Bok glanced at the other boy, reached for his hand, shook it, and looking deep into his eyes, he left the little hut. He little knew where and how he was to look into those eyes. again! Feeling the need of air in order to get hold of himself after one of the most solemn moments of his visit to the front, Bok strolled out, and soon found himself on what only a few days before had been a field of carnage 4l6 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK where the American boys had driven back the Ger- mans. Walking in the trenches and looking out, in the clear moonlight, over the field of desolation and ruin, and thinking of the inferno that had been enacted there only so recently, he suddenly felt his foot rest on what seemed to be a soft object. Taking his "ever-ready" flash from his pocket, he shot a ray at his feet, only to realize that his foot was resting on the face of a dead German ! Bok had had enough for one evening! In fact, he had had enough of war in all its aspects; and he felt a sigh of relief when, a few days thereafter, he boarded The Empress of Asia for home, after a ten-weeks absence. He hoped never again to see, at first hand, what war meant ! CHAPTER XXXVI THE END OF THIRTY YEARS' EDITORSHIP On the voyage home, Edward Bok decided that, now the war was over, he would ask his company to release him from the editorship of The Ladies^ Home Journal. His original plan had been to retire at the end of a quarter of a century of editorship, when in his fiftieth year. He was, therefore, six years behind his schedule. In Octo- ber, 1919, he would reach his thirtieth anniversary as editor, and he fixed upon this as an appropriate time for the relinquishment of his duties. He felt he had carried out the conditions under which the editorship of the magazine had been transferred to him by Mrs. Curtis, that he had brought them to fru- ition, and that any further carrying on of the periodical by him would be of a supplementary character. He had, too, realized his hope of helping to create a national institution of service to the American woman, and he felt that his part in the woris. was done. He considered carefully where he would leave an in- stitution which the public had so thoroughly associated with his personality, and he felt that at no point in its history could he so safely transfer it to other hands. The position of the magazine in the public estimation was unquestioned; it had never been so strong. Its circu- lation not only had outstripped that of any other monthly periodical, but it was still growing so rapidly that it 417 4i8 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK was only a question of a few months when it would reach the almost incredible mark of two million copies per month. With its advertising patronage exceeding that of any other monthly, the periodical had become, proba- bly, the most valuable and profitable piece of magazine property in the world. The time might never come again when aU conditions would be equally favorable to a change of editorship. The position of the magazine was so thoroughly assured that its progress could hardly be affected by tbe retire- ment of one editor, and the accession of another. There was a competent editorial staff, the members of which had been with the periodical from ten to thirty years each. This staff had been a very large factor in the success of the magazine. While Bok had furnished the initiative and supphed the directing power, a large part of the editorial success of the magazine was due to the staff. It could carry on the magazine without his guidance. Moreover, Bok wished to say good-bye to his public before it decided, for some reason or other, to say good- bye to him. He had no desire to outstay his welcome. That public had been wonderfully indulgent toward his shortcomings, lenient with his errors, and tremendously inspiring to his best endeavor. He would not ask too much of it. Thirty years was a long tenure of ofl&ce, one of the longest, in point of consecutively active editor- ship, in the history of American magazines. He had helped to create and to put into the hfe of the American home a magazine of peculiar distinction. From its beginning it had been unlike any other periodi- THE END OF THIRTY YEARS' EDITORSHIP 419 cal; it had always retained its individuality as a maga- zine apart from the others. It had sought to be some- thing more than a mere assemblage of stories and articles. It had consistently stood for ideals; and, save in one or two instances, it had carried through what it undertook to achieve. It had a record of worthy accomplishment; a more fruitful record than many imagined. It had be- come a national institution such as no other' magazine had ever been. It was indisputably accepted by the public and by business interests alike as the recognized avenue of approach to the intelligent homes of America. Edward Bok was content to leave it at this point. He explained all this in December, 1918, to the Board of Directors, and asked that his resignation be con- sidered. It was understood that he was to serve out his thirty years, thus remaining with the magazine for the best part of another year. In the material which The Journal now included in its contents, it began to point the way to the problems which would face women during the reconstruction period. Bok scanned the rather crowded field of thought very carefully, and selected for discussion in the magazine Such questions as seemed to him most important for the public to understand in order to face and solve its im- pending problems. The outstanding question he saw which would immediately face men and women of the country was the problem of Americanization. The war and its after-effects had clearly demonstrated this to be the most vital need in the life of the nation, not only for the foreign-bom but for the American as weU. 420 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK The more one studied the problem the clearer it be- came that the vast majority of American-bom needed a refreshing, and, in many cases, a new conception of American ideals as much as did the foreign-born, and that the latter could never be taught what America and its institutions stood for until they were more clearly defined in the mind of the men and women of American birth. Bok went to Washington, consulted with Franklin K. Lane, secretary of the interior, of whose department the Government Bureau of Americanization was a part. A comprehensive series of articles was outlined; the most expert writer, Esther Everett . Lape, who had several years of actual experience in Americanization work, was selected; Secretary Lane agreed personally to read and pass upon the material, and to assume the responsibility for its publication. With the full and direct co-operation of the Federal Bureau of Americanization, the material was assembled and worked up with the result that, in the opinion of the director of the Federal Bureau, the series proved to be the most comprehensive exposition of practical Ameri- canization adapted to city, town, and village, thus far published. The work on this series was one of the last acts of Edward Bok's editorship; and it was peculiarly grati- f jong to him that his editorial work should end with the exposition of that Americanization of which he himself was a product. It seemed a fitting close to the career of a foreign-bom Americanized editor. The scope of the reconstruction articles now pub- THE END OF THIRTY YEARS' EDITORSHIP 421' lished, and the clarity of vision shown in the selection of the subjects, gave a fresh impetus to the circulation of the magazine; and now that the government's em- bargo on the use of paper had been removed, the full editions of the periodical could again be printed. The pubhc responded instantly. The result reached phenomenal figures. The last number under Bok's full editorial control was the issue of October, 1919. This number was oversold with a printed edition of two million copies — a record never before achieved by any magazine. This same issue presented another record unattained in any single num- ber of any periodical in the world. It carried between its covers the amazing total of over one miUion doUars in advertisements. This was the psychological point at which to stop. And Edward Bok did. Although his ofl&cial relation as editor did not terminate until January, 1920, when the number which contained his valedictory editorial was issued, his actual editorship ceased on September 22, 1919. On that day he handed over the reins to his suc- cessor. As Bok was, on that day, about to leave his desk for the last time, it was announced that a young soldier whom he "had met and befriended in France" was waiting to see him. When the soldier walked into the office he was to Bok only one of the many whom he had met on the other side. But as the boy shook hands with him and said: "I guess you do not remember me, Mr. Bok," there was something in the eyes into which he looked that startled him. And then, in a 422 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK flash, the circumstances under which he had last seen those eyes came to him. "Good heavens, my boy, you are not one of those two boys in the Uttle hut that I " "To whom you read the poem 'Passing Souls,' that evening. Yes, sir, I'm the boy who had hold of your left hand. My bunkie, Ben, went West that same evening, you remember." "Yes," replied the editor, "I remember; I remember only too well," and again Bok felt the hand in his relax, drop from his own, and heard the words: "Saviour- meet — me — on — ^my way." The boy's voice brought Bok back to the moment. "It's wonderful you should remember me; my face was all bound up — I guess you couldn't see anything but my eyes." "Just the eyes, that's right," said Bok. "But they burned into me all right, my boy." "I don't think I get you, sir," said the boy. "No, you wouldn't," Bok replied. "You couldn't, boy, not until you're older. But, tell me, how in the world did you ever get out of it?" "Well, sir," answered the boy, with that shyness which we all have come to know in the boys who actu- ally did, "I guess it was a dose call, aU right. But just as you left us, a hospital corps happened to come along on its way to the back and Miss Nelson — the nurse, you remember ? — she asked them to take me along. They took me to a wonderful hospital, gave me fine care, and then after a few weeks they sent me back to the St^es, and I've been in a hospital over here ever •niE END OF THIRTY YEARS' EDITORSHIP 423 since. Now, except for this thickness of my voice that you notice, which Doc says will be all right soon, I'm fit again. The government has given me a job, and I came here on leave just to see my parents up-State, and I thought I'd like you to know that I didn't go West after all." Fifteen minutes later, Edward Bok left his editorial office for the last time. But as he went home his thoughts were not of his last day at the office, nor of his last acts as editor, but of his last caller — the soldier-boy whom he had left seemingly so surely on his way "West," and whose eyes had burned into his memory on that fearful night a year before ! Strange that this boy should have been his last visitor ! As John Drinkwater, in his play, makes Abraham Lincoln say to General Grant: "It's a queer world !" CHAPTER XXXVII THE THIRD PERIOD The announcement of Edward Bok's retirement came as a great surprise to his friends. Save for one here and there, who had a clearer vision, the feeling was general that he had made a mistake. He was fifty-six, in the prime of hfe, never in better health, with "success ly- ing easily upon him" — said one; "at the very summit of his career," said another — and aU agreed it was "queer," "strange," — unless, they argued, he was really ill. Even the most acute students of human affairs among his friends wondered. It seemed incomprehenM- ble that any man should want to give up before he was, for some reason, compelled to do so. A man should go on until he "dropped in the harness," they argued. Bok agreed that any man had a perfect right to work until he did "drop in the harness." But, he argued, if he conceded this right to others, why should they not concede to him the privilege of dropping with the blinders off? "But," continued the argument, "a man degenerates when he retires from active affairs." And then, in- stances were pointed out as notable examples. "A year of retirement and he was through," was the picture given of one retired man. "In two years, he was glad to come back," and so the examples ran on. "No big man ever retired from active business and did great work afterwards," Bok was told. 424 THE THIRD PERIOD 425 "No?" he answered. "Not even Cyrus W. Field or Herbert Hoover?" And all this time Edward Bok's failure to be entirely Americanized was brought home to his consciousness. After fifty years, he was stiU not an American ! He had deliberately planned, and then had carried out his plan, to retire whUe he stiU had the mental and physical ca- pacity to enjoy the fruits of his years of labor ! For for- eign to the American way of thinking it certainly was: the protestations and arguments of his friends proved that to him. After all, he was still Dutch; he had held on to the lesson which his people had learned years ago; that the people of other European comitries had learned ; that the English had discovered: that the Great Ad- venture of Life was something more than material work, and that the time to go is while the going is good ! For it cannot be denied that the pathetic picture we so often see is found in American business life more fre- quently than in that of any other land: men tinable to let go — ^not only for their own good, but to give the yoimger men behind them an opportunity. Not that a man should stop work, for man was born to work, and in work he should find his greatest refreshment. But so often it does not occur to the man in a pivotal position to question the possibility that at sixty or sev- enty he can keep steadUy in touch with a generation whose ideas are controlled by men twenty years younger. Unconsciously he hangs on beyond his greatest useful- ness and efficiency: he convinces himself that he is in- dispensable to his business, while, in scores of cases, the business would be distinctly benefited by his retirement 426 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK and the consequent coming to the front of the younger blood. Such a man in a position of importance seems often not to see that he has it within his power to advance the fortimes of younger men by stepping out when he has served his time, while by refusing to let go he often works dire injustice and even disaster to his younger associates. The sad fact is that in all too many instances the average American business man is actually afraid to let go because he realizes that out of business he should not know what to do. For years he has so excluded all other interests that at fifty or sixty or seventy he finds himself a slave to his business, with positively no inner resources. Retirement from the one thing he does know would naturally leave such a man useless to him- self and his family, and his community: worse than use- less, as a matter of fact, for he would become a burden to himself, a nuisance to his famUy, and, when he would begin to write "letters" to the newspapers, a bore to the community. It is significant that a European or English business man rarely reaches middle age devoid of acquaintance with other matters; he always lets the breezes from other worlds of thought blow through his ideas, with the result that when he is ready to retire from business he has other interests to fall back upon. Fortunately it is becoming less uncommon for American men to retire from business and devote themselves to other pursuits; and their number will tmdoubtedly increase as time goes on, and we learn the lessons of life with a richer back- THE THIRD PERIOD 427 ground. But one cannot help feeling regretful that the custom is not growing more rapidly. A man must imquestionably prepare years ahead for his retirement, not alone financially, but mentally as well. Bok noticed as a curious fact that nearly every business man who told him he had made a mistake in his retirement, and that the proper life for a man is to stick to the game and see it through — "hold her nozzle agin the bank" as Jim Bludso would say — ^was a man with no resources outside his business. Naturally, a retire- ment is a mistake in the eyes of such a man; but oh, the pathos of such a position: that in a world of so much interest, iu an age so fascinatingly full of things worth doing, a man should have allowed himself to become a slave to his business, and should imagine no other man happy without the same claims ! It is this lesson that the American business man has still to learn: that no man can be wholly eflScient in his life, that he is not living a four-squared existence, if he concentrates every waking thought on his material affairs. He has still to learn that man cannot live by bread alone. The making of money, the accumulation of material power, is not all there is to living. Life is something more than these, and the man who misses this truth misses the greatest joy and satisfaction that can come into his life — service for others. Some men argue that they can give this service and be in business, too. But service with such men generally means drawing a check for some worthy cause, and nothing more. Edward Bok never belittied the giv- ing of contributions — ^he solicited too much money him- 428 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK self for the causes in which he was interested — ^but it is a poor nature that can satisfy itself that it is serving humanity by merely signing checks. There is no form of service more comfortable or so cheap. Real service, however, demands that a man give himself with his check. And that the average man cannot do if he re- mains in affairs. Particularly true is this to-day, when every problem of business is so engrossing, demanding a man's full time and thought. It is the rare man who can devote himself to business and be fresh for the service of others afterward. No man can, with efi&ciency, serve two masters so exacting as are these. Besides, if his business has seemed important enough to demand his entire attention, are not the great uplift questions equally worth his exclusive thought? Are they easier of solu- tion than the material problems? A man can Uve a Hfe full-square only when he divides it into three periods : First: that of education, acquiring tb^ fullest and best within his reach and power; Second: that of achievement: achieving for himself and his family, and discharging the first duty of any man, that in case of his incapacity those who are closest to him are provided for. But such provision does not mean an acctunulation that becomes to those he leaves behind him an embarrassment rather than a protection. To prevent this, the next period confronts him: Third : Service for others. That is the add test where many a man falls short: to know when he has enough, and to be willing not only to let well enough alone, but THE THIRD PERIOD 429 to give a helping hand to the other fellow; to recognize, in a practical way, that we are our brother's keeper; that a brotherhood of man does exist outside after- dinner speeches. Too many men make the mistake, when they reach the point of enough, of going on pur- suing the same old game: accumulating more money, grasping for more power imtil either a nervous break- down overtakes them and a sad incapacity results, or they drop "in the harness," which is, of course, only call- ing an early grave by another name. They cannot seem to get the truth into their heads that as they have been helped by others so should they now help others: as their means have come from the public, so now they owe something in turn to that pubhc. No man has a right to leave the world no better than he found it. He must add something to it: either he must make its people better and happier, or he must make the face of the world fairer to look at. And the one really means the other. "Idealism," immediately say some. Of course, it is. But what is the matter with idealism? What really is idealism? Do one-tenth of those who use the phrase so glibly know its true meaning, the part it has played in the world? The worthy interpretation of an ideal is that it embodies an idea — a conception of the imagination. All ideas are at first ideals. They must be. The pro- ducer brings forth an idea, but some dreamer has dreamed it before him either in whole or in part. Where would the human race be were it not for the ideals of men ? It is idealists, in a large sense, that this old world needs to-day. Its soil is sadly in need of new 430 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK seed. Washington, in his day, was decried as an ideal- ist. So was Jefferson. It was commonly remarked of Lincoln that he was a "rank idealist." Morse, Watt, Marconi, Edison — ^all were, at first, adjudged idealists. We say of the League of Nations that it is ideal, and we use the term in a derogatory sense. But that was exactly what was said of the Constitution of the United States. "Insanely ideal" was the term used of it. The idealist, particularly to-day when there is so great need of him, is not to be scoffed at. It is through him and only through him that the world will see a new and clear vision of what is right. It is he who has the power of going out of himself — ^that self in which too many are nowadays so deeply imbedded; it is he who, in seeking the ideal, wiU, through his own clearer percep- tion or that of others, transform the ideal into the real. "Where there is no vision, the people perish." It was his remark that he retired because he wanted "to play" that Edward Bok's friends most completely misunderstood. "Play" in their minds meant tennis, golf, horseback, polo, travel, etc. — (curious that scarcely one mentioned reading!). It so happens that no one enjoys some of these play-forms more than Bok; but "God forbid," he said, "that I should spend the rest of my days in a bunker or in the saddle. In moderation," he added, "yes; most decidedly." But the phrase of "play" meant more to him than all this. Play is diver- sion: exertion of the mind as well as of the body. There is such a thing as mental play as well as physical play. We ask of play that it shall rest, refresh, e^diilarate. Is THE THIRD PERIOD 431 there any form of mental activity that secures all these ends so thoroughly and so directly as doing something that a man really Hkes to do, doing it with all his heart, all the time conscious that he is helping to make the world better for some one else ? A man's "play" can take many forms. If his life has been barren of books or travel, let him read or see the world. But he reaches his high estate by either of these roads only when he reads or travels to enrich him- self in order to give out what he gets to enrich the Kves of others. He owes it to himself to get his own refresh^ ment, his own pleasure, but he need not make that pure self-indulgence. Other men, more active in body and mind, feel drawn to the modem arena of the great questions that puzzle. It matters not in which direction a man goes in these matters any more than the length of a step matters so much as does the direction in which the step is taken. He should seek those questions which engross his deep- est interest, whether literary, musical, artistic, civic, economic, or what not. Our cities, towns, commimities of aU sizes and kinds, urban and rural, cry out for men to solve their problems. There is room and to spare for the man of any bent. The old Romans looked forward, on coming to the age of retirement, which was definitely fixed by rulej to a rural life, when they hied themselves to a Uttle home in the coimtry, had open house for their friends, and "kept bees." While bee-keeping is unquestionably interesting, there are to-day other and more vital occupations awaiting the retired American. 432 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK The main thing is to secure that freedom of move- ment that lets a man go where he will and do what he thinks he can do best, and prove to himseK and to others that the acquirement of the doUar is not all there is to life. No man can realize, until on awakening some morning he feels the exhilaration, the sense of freedom that comes from knowing he can choose his own doings and control his own goings. Time is of more value than money, and it is that which the man who retires feels that he possesses. Hamilton Mabie once said, after his retirement from an active editorial position: "I am so happy that the time has come when I elect what I shall do," which is true; but then he added: "I have rubbed out the word 'must' from my vocabulary," which was not true. No man ever reaches that point. Duty of some sort confronts a man in business or out of business, and duty spells "must." But there is less "must" in the vocabulary of the retired man; and it is this lessened quantity that gives the tang of joy to the new day. It is a wonderful inner personal satisfaction to reach the point when a man can say: "I have enough." His soul and character are refreshed by it: he is made over by it. He begins a new life ! he gets a sense of a new joy; he feels, for the first time, what a priceless posses- sion is that thing that he never knew before, freedom. And if he seeks that freedom at the right time, when he is at the summit of his years and powers and at the most opportune moment in his affairs, he has that supreme satisfaction denied to so many men, the opposite of which comes home with such cruel force to them: that THE THIRD PERIOD 433 they have overstayed their time: they have worn out their welcome. There is no satisfaction that so thoroughly satisfies as that of going while the going is good. Still The friends of Edward Bok may be right when they said he made a mistake in his retirement. However As Mr. Dooley says: "It's a good thing, sometimes, to have people size ye up wrong, Hinnessey: it's whin they've got ye'er measure ye're in danger." Edward Bok's friends have failed to get his measure, —yet! They still have to learn what he has learned and is learning every day: "the joy," as Charles Lamb so aptly put it upon his retirement, "of walking about and around instead of to and fro." The question now naturally arises, having read this record thus far: To what extent, with his unusual op- portunities of fifty years, has the Americanization of Edward Bok gone? How far is he, to-day, an Ameri- can? These questions, so direct and personal in their, nature, are perhaps best answered in a way more direct and personal than the method thus far adopted in this chronicle. We will, therefore, let Edward Bok answer these questions for himself, in closing this record of his Americanization. CHAPTER XXXVin WHERE AMERICA FELL SHORT WITH ME When I came to the United States as a lad of six, the most needful lesson for me, as a boy, was the necessity for thrift. I had been taught in my home across the sea that thrift was one of the fundamentals in a success- ful life. My family had come from a land (the Nether- lands) noted for its thrift; but we had been in the United States only a few days before the realization came home strongly to my father and mother that they had brought their children to a land of waste. Where the Dutchman saved, the American wasted. There was waste, and the most prodigal waste, on every hand. In every street-car and on every ferry-boat the floors and seats were littered with newspapers that had been read and thrown away or left behind. If I went to a grocery store to buy a peck of potatoes, and a potato rolled off the heaping measure, the groceryman, instead of picking it up, kicked it into the gutter for the wheels of his wagon to run over. The butcher's waste filled my mother's soul with dismay. If I bought a scuttle of coal at the comer grocery, the coal that missed the scuttle, instead of being shovelled up and put back into the bin, was swept into the street. My young eyes quickly saw this; in the evening I gathered up the coal thus swept away, and during the course of a week I collected a scuttleful. The first time my mother saw 434 WHERE AMERICA FELL SHORT WITH ME 435 the garbage pail of a family almost as poor as our own, with the wife and husband constantly complaining that they could not get along, she could scarcely believe her eyes. A half pan of hominy of the preceding day's breakfast lay in the pail next to a third of a loaf of bread. In later years, when I saw, daily, a scow loaded with the garbage of Brooklyn householders being towed through New York harbor out to sea, it was an easy calculation that what was thrown away in a week's time from Brook- lyn homes would feed the poor of the Netherlands. At school, I quickly learned that to "save money" was to be "stingy"; as a young man, I soon found that the American disliked the word "economy," and on every hand as plenty grew spending grew. There was literally nothing in American life to teach me thrift or economy; everything to teach me to spend and to waste. I saw men who had earned good salaries in their prime, reach the years of incapacity as dependents. I saw families on every hand either hving quite up to their means or beyond them; rarely within them. The more a man earned, the more he — or his wife — spent. I saw fathers and mothers and their children dressed beyond their incomes. The proportion of families who ran into ddbt was far greater than those who saved. When a panic came, the families "pulled in"; when the panic was over, they "let out." But the end of one year found them precisely where they were at the close of the previous year, unless they were deeper in debt. It was in this atmosphere of prodigal expenditure and culpable waste that I was to practise thrift: a funda- 436 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWAIID BOK mental in life ! And it is into this atmosphere that the foreign-born comes now, with every inducement to spend and no encouragement to save. For as it was in the days of my boyhood, so it is to-day — only worse. One need only go over the experiences of the past two years, to compare the receipts of merchants who cater to the working-classes and the statements of savings- banks throughout the country, to read the story of how the foreign-born are learning the habit of criminal waste- fulness as taught them by the American. Is it any wonder, then, that in this, one of the essentials in Ufe and in aU success, America fell short with me, as it is continuing to fall short with every foreign-bom who comes to its shores ? As a Dutch boy, one of the cardinal truths taught me was that whatever was worth doing was worth doing well: that next to honesty came thoroughness as a factor in success. It was not enough that anything should be done: it was not done at all if it was not done well. I came to America to be taught exactly the opposite. The two infernal Americanisms "That's good enough" and "That wiU do" were early taught me, to- gether with the maxim of quantity rather than quality. It was not the boy at school who could write the words in his copy-book best who received the praise of the teacher; it was the boy who could write the largest number of words in a given time. The acid test in arithmetic was not the mastery of the method, but the number of minutes required to work out an example. If a boy abbreviated the month January to "Jan." WHERE AMERICA FELL SHORT WITH ME 437 and the word Company to "Co." he received a hundred per cent mark, as did the boy who spelled out the words and who could not make the teacher see that "Co." did not spell "Company." As I grew into yoimg manhood, and went into busi- ness, I found on every hand that quantity counted for more than quaUty. The emphasis was almost always placed on how much work one could do in a day, rather than upon how weU. the work was done. Thoroughness was at a discount on every hand; production at a premium. It made no diEEerence in what direction I went, the result was the same: the cry was always for quantity, quantity ! And into this atmosphere of al- most utter disregard for quaUty I brought my ideas of Dutch thoroughness and my conviction that doing well whatever I did was to count as a cardinal principle in life. During my years of editorship, save in one or two conspicuous instances, I was never able to assign to an American writer, work which called for painstaking re- search. In every instance, the work came back to me either incorrect in statement, or otherwise obviously lacking in careful preparation. One of the most successful departments I ever con- ducted in The Ladies' Home Journal called for infinite reading and patient digging, with the actual results sometimes ahnost negligible. I made a study of my associates by turning the department over to one after another, and always with the same result: absolute lack of a capacity for patient research. As one of my edi- tors, typically American, said to me: "It isn't worth all 438 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK the trouble that you put into it." Yet no single depart- ment ever repaid the searcher more for his pains. Save for assistance derived from a single person, I had to do the work myself for aU the years that the department continued. It was apparently impossible for the Amer- ican to work with sufficient patience and care to achieve a result. We aU have our pet notions as to the particular evil which is "the curse of America," but I always think that Theodore Roosevelt came closest to the real curse when he classed it as a lack of thoroughness. Here again, in one of the most important matters in life, did America fall short with me; and, what is more important, she is falling short with every foreigner that comes to her shores. In the matter of education, America fell far short ia what shoxild be the strongest of aU her institutions: the public school. A more inadequate, incompetent method of teaching, as I look back over my seven years of at- tendance at three different public schools, it is difficult to conceive. If there is one thing that I, as a foreign- bom child, should have been carefully taught, it is the English language. The individual effort to teach this, if effort there was, and I remember none, was negligible. It was left for my father to teach me, or for me to dig it out for myself. There was absolutely no indi- cation on the part of teacher or principal of responsi- bility for seeing that a foreign-bom boy should acquire the English language correctly. I was taught as if I were American-bom, and, of course, I was left dangling WHERE AMERICA FELL SHORT WITH ME 439 in the air, with no conception of what I was trying to do. My father worked with me evening after evening; I plunged my young mind deep into the bewildering confusions of the language — and no one realizes the con- fusions of the English language as does the foreign-bom — and got what I could through these joint efforts. But I gained nothing from the much-vaunted public-school system which the United States had borrowed from my own country, and then had rendered incompetent — either by a sheer disregard for the thoroughness that makes the Dutch public schools the admiration of the world, or by too close a regard for politics. Thus, in her most important institution to the for- eign-bom, America feU short. And while I am ready to believe that the public school may have increased in efficiency since that day, it is, indeed, a question for the American to ponder, just how far the system is efficient for the education of the child who comes to its school without a knowledge of the first word in the English language. Without a detailed knowledge of the subject, I know enough of conditions in the average public school to-day to warrant at least the suspicion that Americans would not be particularly proud of the system, and of what it gives for which annually they pay millions of doUars in taxes. I am aware in making this statement that I shall be met with convincing instances of intelligent effort be- ing made with the foreign-bom children in special classes. No one has a higher respect for those efforts than I have — ievt, other than educators, know of them better than 440 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK I do, since I did not make my five-year study of the American public school system for naught. But I am not referring to the exceptional instance here and there. I merely ask of the American, interested as he is or should be in the Americanization of the strangers within his gates, how far the public school system,, as a whole, urban and rural, adapts itself, with any true efficiency, to the foreign-bom child. I venture to color his opinion in no wise; I simply ask that he will inquire and ascer- tain for himself, as he should do if he is interested in the future welfare of his coimtry and his institutions; for what happens in America in the years to come depends, in large measure, on what is happening to-day in the public schools of this coimtry. As a Dutch boy I was taught a wholesome respect for law and for authority. The fact was impressed upon me that laws of themselves were futile imless the people for whom they were made respected them, and obeyed them in spirit more even than in the letter. I came to America to feel, on every hand, that exactly the opposite was true. Laws were passed, but were not enforced; the spirit to enforce them was lacking in the people. There was little respect for the law; there was scarcely any for those appointed to enforce it. The nearest that a boy gets to the law is through the policeman. In the Netherlands a boy is taught that a policeman is for the protection of life and property; that he is the natural friend of every boy and man who be- haves himself. The Dutch boy and the policeman are, naturally, friendly in their relations. I came to America WHERE AMERICA FELL SHORT WITH ME 441 to be told that a policeman is a boy's natural enemy; that he is eager to arrest him if he can find the slightest reason for doing so. A policeman, I was informed, was a being to hold in fear, not in respect. He was to be avoided, not to be made friends with. The result was that, as did aU boys, I came to regard the policeman on our beat as a distinct enemy. His presence meant that we should "stiffen up"; his disappearance was the signal for us to "let loose." So long as one was not caught, it did not matter. I heard mothers teU. their little children that if they did not behave themselves, the policeman would put them into a bag and carry them off, or cut their ears off. Of course, the policeman became to them an object of ter- ror; the law he represented, a cruel thing that stood for punishment. Not a note of respect did I ever hear for the law in my boyhood days. A law was something to be broken, to be evaded, to caU down upon others as a source of pxmishment, but never to be regarded in the light of a safeguard. And as I grew into manhood, , the newspapers rang on every side with disrespect for those in authority. Under the special dispensation of the liberty of the press, which was construed into the license of the press, no man was too high to escape editorial vituperation if his pohtics did not happen to suit the management, or if his action ran counter to what the proprietors believed it should be. It was not criticism of his acts, it was personal attack upon the official; whether supervisor, mayor, governor, or president, it mattered not. It is a very unfortunate impression that this American 442 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK lack of respect for those in authority makes upon the foreign-bom mind. It is difficult for the foreigner to square up the arrest and deportation of a man who, through an incendiary address, seeks to overthrow governmental authority, with the ignoring of an expres- sion of exactly the same sentiments by the editor of his next morning's newspaper. In other words, the man who writes is immune, but the man who reads, imbibes, and translates the editor's words into action is immedi- ately marked as a culprit, and America will not harbor him. But why harbor the original cause? Is the man who speaks with t3rpe less dangerous than he who ^eaks with his mouth or with a bomb ? At the most vital part of my life, when I was to become an American citizen and exercise the right of suffrage, America fell entirely short. It reached out not even the suggestion of a hand. When the Presidential Conventions had been held in the year I reached my legal majority, and I knew I could vote, I endeavored to find out whether, being foreign-born, I was entitled to the suffrage. No one could tell me; and not until I had visited ax diBEerent municipal departments, being referred from one to an- other, was it explained that, through my father's nat- uralization, I became, automatically, as his son, an American citizen. I decided to read up on the platforms of the Republican and Democratic parties, but I could not secure copies anywhere, although a week had passed since they had been adopted in convention. I was told the newspapers had printed them. It WHERE AMERICA FELL SHORT WITH ME 443 occurred to me there must be many others besides my- self who were anxious to secure the platforms of the two parties in some more convenient form. With the eye of necessity ever upon a chance to earn an honest penny, I went to a newspaper ofl&ce, cut out from its files the two platforms, had them printed in a small pocket edi- tion, sold one edition to the American News Company and another to the News Company controlling the Elevated Railroad bookstands i!n New York City, where they sold at ten cents each. So great was the demand which I had only partially guessed, that within three weeks I had sold such huge editions of the little books that I had cleared over a thousand dollars. But it seemed to me strange that it should depend on a foreign-bom American to supply an eager public with what should have been supplied through the agency of the political parties or through some educational source. I now tried to find out what a vote actually meant. It must be recalled that I was only twenty-one years old, with scant education, and with no civic agency offering me the information I was seeking. I went to the head- quarters of each of the political parties and put my query. I was regarded with puzzled looks. "What does it mean to vote?" asked one chairman. "Why, on Election Day you go up to the ballot-box and put your ballot in, and that's all there is to it." But I knew very well that that was not all there was to it, and was determined to find out the significance of the franchise. I met with dense ignorance on every hand. I went to the Brooklyn Library, and was frankly 444 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK told by the librarian that he did not know of a book that would tell me what I wanted to know. This was in 1884. As the campaign increased in intensity, I foimd my- self a desired person in the eyes of the local campaign managers, but not one of them could teU me the signifi- cance and meaning of the privilege I was for the first time to exercise. Finally, I spent an evening with Seth Low, and, of course, got the desired information. But fancy the quest I had been compelled to make to acqture the simple information that should have been placed in my hands or made readily accessible to me. And how many foreign-born would take equal pains to ascertain what I was determined to find out? Surely America fell short here at the moment most sacred to me : that of my first vote ! Is it any easier to-day for the foreign citizen to acquire this information when he approaches his first vote? I wonder ! Not that I do not beheve there are agencies for this purpose. You know there are, and so do I. But how about the foreign-bom? Does he know it? Is it not perhaps like the owner of the bulldog who assured the friend calling on him that it never attacked friends of the family? "Yes," said the friend, "that's aU right. You know and I know that I am a friend of the family; but does the dog know ? " Is it to-day made known to the foreign-bom, about to exercise his privilege of suffrage for the first time, where he can be told what that privilege means: is the WHERE AMERICA FELL SHORT WITH ME 445 means to know made readily accessible to him: is it, in fact, as it should be, brought to him? It was not to me; is it to him? One fundamental trouble with the present desire for Americanization is that the American is anxious to Americanize two classes — ^if he is a reformer, the foreign- bom; if he is an employer, his employees. It never occurs to him that he himself may be in need of Ameri- canization. He seems to take it for granted that be- cause he is American-born, he is an American in spirit and has a right understanding of American ideals. But that, by no means, always follows. There are thousands of the American-born who need Americanization just as much as do the foreign-bom. There are himdreds of American employers who know far less of American ideals than do some of their employees. In fact, there are those actually engaged to-day in the work of Americanization, men at the top of the movement, who sadly need a better conception of true Americanism. An excellent illustration of this came to my knowledge when I attended a large Americanization Conference in Washington. One of the principal speakers was an educator of high standing and considerable influence in one of the most important sections of the United States. In a speech setting forth his ideas of Americanization, he dwelt with much emphasis and at considerable length upon instilling into the mind of the foreign-bom the highest respect for American institutions. After the Conference he asked me whether he could see me that aftemoon at my hotel; he wanted to talk 446 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK about contributing to the magazine. When he came, before approaching the object of his talk, he launched out on a tirade against the President of the United States; the weakness of the Cabinet, the inefficiency of the Congress, and the stupidity of the Senate. If words coiild have killed, there would have not remained a single living member of the Administration at Washington. After fifteen minutes of this, I reminded him of his speech and the emphasis which he had placed upon the necessity of inculcating in the foreign-bom respect for American institutions. Yet this man was a power in his community, a strong influence upon others; he believed he could American- ize others, when he himself, according to his own state- ments, lacked the fundamental principle of Americaniza- tion. What is true of this man is, in lesser or greater degree, true of hundreds of others. Their Americaniza- tion consists of lip-service; the real spirit, the only factor which counts in the successful teaching of any doctrine, is absolutely missing. We certainly caimot teach anything approaching a true Americanism imtil we ourselves feel and beUeve and practise in our own lives what we are teaching to others. No law, no lip- service, no effort, however well-intentioned, wiU amount to anything worth while in inculcating the true American spirit in our foreign-bom citizens imtil we are sure that the American spirit is understood by ourselves and is warp and woof of our own being. To the American, part and parcel of his country, these particulars in which his country falls short with the WHERE AMERICA FELL SHORT WITH ME 447 foreign-bom are, perhaps, not so evident; they may even seem not so very important. But to the foreign-born they seem distinct lacks; they loom large; they form serious handicaps which, in many cases, are never sur- moimted; they are a menace to that Americanization which is, to-day, more than ever our fondest dream, and which we now reaUze more keenly than before is our most vital need. It is for this reason that I have put them down here as a concrete instance of where and how America fell short in my own Americanization, and, what is far more serious to me, where she is falling short in her American- ization of thousands of other foreign-bom. "Yet you succeeded," it wiU be argued. That may be; but you, on the other hand, must admit that I did not succeed by reason of these shortcomings: it was in spite of them, by overcoming^ them — a result that aU might not achieve. CHAPTER XXXIX WHAT I OWE TO AMERICA Whatever shortcomings I may have foxmd during my fifty-year period of Americanization; however America may have failed to help my transition from a foreigner into an American, I owe to her the most price- less gift that any nation can offer, and that is oppor- tmiity. As the world stands to-day, no nation offers oppor- tunity in the degree that America does to the foreign- born. Russia may, in the future, as I like to believe she will, prove a second United States of America in this respect. She has the same limitless area; her peo- ple the same potentialities. But, as things are to-day, the United States offers, as does no other nation, a limitless opportunity: here a man can go as far as his abilities will carry him. It may be that the foreign- bom, as in my own case, must hold on to some of the ideals and ideas of the land of his birth; it may be that he must develop and mould his character by overcoming the habits resulting from national shortcomings. But into the best that the foreign-bom can retain, America can graft such a wealth of inspiration, so high a national idealism, so great an opportunity for the highest en- deavor, as to make him the fortunate man of the earth to-day. 448 WHAT I OWE TO AMERICA 449 He can go where he will: no traditions hamper him; no limitations are set except those within himself. The larger the area he chooses in which to work, the larger the vision he demonstrates, the more eager the people are to give support to his undertakings if they are con- vinced that he has their best welfare as his goal. There is no public confidence equal to that of the American public, once it is obtained. It is fickle, of course, as are all publics, but fickle only toward the man who cannot maintain an achieved success. A man in America cannot complacently lean back upon victories won, as he can in the older European coimtries, and depend upon the glamour of the past to sustain him or the momentum of success to carry him. Probably the most alert public in the world, it requires of its leaders that they be alert. Its appetite for variety is insatiable, but its appreciation, when given, is fuU- handed and whole-hearted. The American pubUc never holds back from the man to whom it gives; it never be- stows in a niggardly way; it gives all or nothing. What is not generally understood of the American people is their wonderful ideahsm. Nothing so com- pletely surprises the foreign-born as the discover>- of this trait in the American character. The impression is current in European countries — ^perhaps less generally since the war — that America is given over solely to a worship of the American dollar. While between na- tions as between individuals, comparisons are valueless, it may not be amiss to say, from personal knowledge, that the Dutch worship the gulden infinitely more than do the Americans the doUar. 450 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK I do not claim that the American is always conscious of this idealism; often he is not. But let a great con- vulsion touching moral questions occur, and the result always shows how close to the surface is his idealism. And the fact that so frequently he puts over it a thick veneer of materialism does not affect its quality. The truest approach, the only approach in fact, to the Ameri- can character is, as Sir James Bryce has so well said, through its idealism. It is this quaUty which gives the truest inspiration to the foreign-born in his endeavor to serve the people of his adopted country. He is mentally sluggish, indeed, who does not discover that America wiU make good with him if he makes good with her. But he must play fair. It is essentially the straight game that the true American plays, and he insists that you shall play it too. Evidence there is, of course, to the contrary in American life, experiences that seem to give groimd for the belief that the man succeeds who is not scrupulous in playing his cards. But never is this true in the long run. Sooner or later — sometimes, un- fortunately, later than sooner — the public discovers the trickery. In no other coxmtry in the world is the moral conception so dear and true as in America, and no people wiU give a larger and more permanent reward to the man whose effort for that public has its roots in honor and truth. "The sky is the limit" to the foreign-bom who comes to America endowed with honest endeavor, ceaseless industry, and the ability to carry through. In any honest endeavor, the way is wide open to the wiU to WHAT I OWE TO AMERICA 451 succeed. Every path beckons, every vista invites, every talent is called forth, and every efficient effort finds its due reward. In no land is the way so clear and so free. How good an American has the process of American- ization made me? That I cannot say. Who can say that of himself? But when I look around me at the American-bom I have come to know as my close friends, I wonder whether, after all, the foreign-born does not make in some sense a better American — whether he is not able to get a truer perspective; whether his is not the deeper desire to see America greater; whether he is not less content to let its faulty institutions be as they are; whether in seeing faults more clearly he does not make a more decided effort to have America reach those ideals or those fundamentals of his own land which he feels are in his nature, and the best of which he is anxious to graft into the character of his adopted land ? It is naturally with a feeling of deep satisfaction that I remember two Presidents of the United States con- sidered me a sufficiently tj^ical American to wish to send me to my native land as the accredited minister of my adopted country. And yet when I analyze the rea- sons for my choice in both these instances, I derive a deeper satisfaction from the fact that my strong desire to work in America for America led me to ask to be permitted to remain here. It is this strong impulse that my Americanization has made the driving power of my life. And I ask no greater privilege than to be allowed to live to see my potential America become actual: the America that I like to think of as the America of Abraham Lincoln and of Theodore 452 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK Roosevelt — not faultless, but less faulty. It is a part in trying to shape that America, and an opportunity to work in that America when it comes, that I ask in return for what I owe to her. A greater privilege no man could have. EDWARD WILLIAM BOK BIOGRAPHICAL DATA 1863: Bom, October 9, at Helder, Netherlands. 1870: September 20: Arrived in the United States. 1870: Entered public schools of Brooklyn, New York. 1873: Obtained first position in Frost's Bakery, Smith Street, BrookljTi, at 50 cents per week. 1876: August 7: Entered employ of the Western Union Tele- graph Company as office-boy. 1882 : Entered employ of Henry Holt & Company as stenographer. 1884: Entered employ of Charles Scribner's Sons as steiiographer. 1884: Became editor of The Brooklyn Magazine. 1886: Founded The Bok Syndicate Press. 1887: Published Henry Ward Beecher Memorial (privately printed). 1889: October 20: Became editor of The Ladies^ Home Journal. 1890: Published Successward: Doubleday, McClure & Company. 1894: Published Before He Is Twenty: Fleming H. Revell Com- pany. 1896: October 22: Married Mary Louise Curtis. 1897: September 7: Son born: William Curtis Bok. 1900: Published The Young Man in Business: L. C. Page & Company. 1905: January 25: Son born: Cary William Bok. 1906: Published Her Brother's Letters (Anonymous): Moffat, Yard & Company. 1907: Degree of LL.D. of Order of Augustinian Fathers conferred by order of Pope Pius X., by the Most Reverend Diomede Falconio, D.D., Apostolic Delegate to the United States, at Villanova College. 4S3 454 THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK 1910: Degree of LL.D. conferred, in absentia, by Hope College, Holland, Michigan (the only Dutch college in the United States). 191 1 : Founded, with others. The Child Federation of Philadelphia. 191 2: Published: The Edward Bok Books of Self-Knowledge; &ve volumes: Fleming H. Revell Company. 1913: Founded, with others. The Merion Civic Association, at Merion, Pennsylvania. 1915: Pubhshed Why I Believe in Poverty: Houghton, Mifflin Company. 1916: Published poem, God's Hand, set to music by Josef Hof- mann: Schirmer & Company. 1917: Vice-president Philadelphia Belgian Relief Commission. 1917: Member of National Y. M. C. A. War Work Council. 191 7: State chairman for Pennsylvania of Y. M. C. A. War Work Council. 1918: Member of Executive Committee and chairman of Publicity Committee, Philadelphia War Chest. 1918: Chairman of Philadelphia Y. M. C. A. Recruiting Com- mittee. 1918: State chairman for Pennsylvania of United War Work Campaign. 1918: August-November: visited the battle-fronts in France as guest of the British Government. 1919: September 22: Relinquished editorship of Tke Ladies' Home Journal, completing thirty years of service. 1920: September 20: Upon the 50th anniversary of arrival in the United States, published The Americanization of Edward Bok. 1921: Created the Philadelpia Award of $10,000 a year to the citizen of ^Philadelphia or vicinity who, during the pre- ceding year, shall have performed, or brought to its cul- mination, an act or contributed a service calculated to advance the best and largest interests of Philadelphia. THE AMERICANIZATION OF EDWARD BOK 455 1921: Founded the Philadelphia Forum at Philadelphia. 1921: Elected President of the Netherland-American Foundation at New York. 1921: Awarded, by Columbia University, the Joseph PuUtzer Prize for the best American biography for 1920. 1921 : Awarded the Gold Medal by the Academy of Political and Social Science at New York. 1922: Published Two Persons: Charles Scribner's Sons. 1922: Created the Citizens' Award of $1000 to be awarded, each year, to each of the six poUcemen, firemen and park guards of the city of Philadelphia who shall have per- formed an outstanding act of service or contributed to the eflciciency of the service during the preceding calen- dar year. 1923: '£^i}d^^&&. A Man from Maine: Charles Scribner's Sons. 1923: Degree of LL.D. conferred by Rutgers College. 1923: Degree of Doctor of Humane Letters conferred by Tufts College. 1923: Edited series of Grea^ HoMa^w/ers; Charles Scribner's Sons. 1923: Created the American Peace Award of $100,000 for the best practicable plan by which the United States may co-operate with other nations to achieve and preserve the peace of the world. 1923: Created the Harvard Awards bestowed by Harvard Uni- versity for raising the standard of advertisements in American periodicals and for the intelligent conception and execution of plans for advertising. THE EXPRESSION OF A PERSONAL PLEASURE / cannot close this record of a hoy's development without an attempt to suggest the sense of deep personal pleasure which I feel that the imprint on the title-page of this book should be that of the publishing house which, thirty-six years ago, I entered as stenographer. It was there I received my start; it was there I laid the foundation of that future career then so hidden from me. The happiest days of my young manhood were spent in the employ of this house; I there began friend- ships which have grown closer with each passing year. And one of my deepest sources of satisfaction is, that during all the thirty-one years which have followed my resignation from the Scribner house, it has been my good fortune to hold the friendship, and, as I have been led to believe, the respect of my former employers. That they should now he my publishers demonstrates, in a striking manner, the curious turning of the wheel of time, and gives me a sense of gratification difficult of expression. ~1 4S6 INDEX Abbey, Edwin A., 245, 259 ff. Abbott, Lyman, 278, 345, 363, 375. Abbott, Mrs. Lyman, 175. Adams, Charles Francis, 60. Adams, John, 60. Adams, John Quincy, 60. Addams, Jane, 303, 375. Adriatic, 404. Alcott, Louisa, visit to, 54 S. ; Emer- son visited by, 55 S.; letters from, 232. American Civic Association, 254, 352 ff. American Lithographic Company, 27. American Magoudne, 78 if. American Red Cross, 389. American Union Telegraph Com- pany, 71. Anderson, Mary, visit to, 220. Anthony, Susan B., 303. Appleton's Encyclopedia, 17 ff. Astor, William Waldorf, 149. Atchison, Topeka and Santa F6 Railroad, 253. Atlanta, 257. Atlantitf Monthly, 378. Bangs, John Kendrick, 136, 233. Banker, James H., 17. Barger, Samuel P., 17. Baruch, Bernard, 391. Beauvoir, Mississippi, 26. Beaverbrook, Lord, 404. Beecher, Henry Ward, 64 ff., 80 ff., 132, death of, 133 flF. ^, Belfield, Thomas Dun, 399. Bell, Alexander Graham, 17. Bellamy, Edward, 118. Bernhardt, Sarah, 328. Blaine, James G., 192 ff. Blankenburg, Mrs. Rudolph, 301 . Bok, Edward William, arrival of, I S.; first American schooldays of, 2 ff.; homework of, 8 ff.; first money earned by, 9 ff.; first news- paper work of, 12 ff. ; first position of, 15 ff.; self-education of, 17 ff., 29; reportorial work of, 29 ff., 61 ff.; Garfield's letter to, 18; auto graph letters collected by, 18 ff. first literary commission of, 27 ff. first editorial work of, 28 ; Grant's and Hayes's speeches reported by, 30; President Hayes and, 31 ff.; Boston visit of, 34 ff.; the- atre programmes published by, 63; Brooklyn Magazine published by, 65 ff., 78; stock market played by, 69 ff . ; publishing busi- ness entered by, 78; syndicate newspaper business of, 80 ff.; Beecher's friendship with, 85, 89 ff.; Bok Syndicate Press or- ganized by, 104; "Woman's page" originated by, 104 ff., 149, 152 ff.; Scribner's employment of, 108 ff., 144 ff.; Stevenson and, 113 ff.; Stockton and, 116 ff.; Curtis's offer to, 155 ff.; offer accepted by, 158 ff.; Ladies' Home Journal edited by, 166 ff.; new Curtis building and, 258 ff. ; Eugene Field and, 181 ff.; bill- boards and, 253 ff.; "Dirty Cities" and, 256 ff.; Roosevelt and, 266 ff., 273 ff.; home life of, 268; Suffragists and, 302 ff.; 457 458 INDEX Kipling and, 309 S.; Niagara Fails and, 352 ff.; war work of, 394 ff.; battle front trip of, 404 ff. ; resignation of, 417 ff. Bok Syndicate Press, 104, 106. Bok, William, I, 104, 155. Bonheur, Rosa, Bok's visit to, 230 ff. Book Buyer, The, iii ff., 141. Booth, Evangeline, 391. Boston, 35, 46, 47, 51, 60, 181 ff. Boston Globe, interview in, 20. Boston Herald, 275. Boston Journal, 108. Boston Transcript, 275. Bottome, Margaret, 172. Breadwi/wers, The, 138. Brewer, Owen W., 147. Bridges, Robert, book reviews by, 291. Briggs, Dr. Charles A., 144 ff. Brooki}m, 2, II, 17, 20, 29, 65, 86, 90. Brooklyn Axademy of Music, 92. Brooklyn Magazine, 65 ff., 78 ff. Brooklyn Eagle, 12; interview in, 20; reporting for, 29 ff., 61 ff. Brooks, Phillips, 46 ff.; visit to, 48 ff., 59; contribution from, 66, 104. Bulgaria, capitulation of, 406. Burlingame, Edward L., 109 ff., 113 ff. Burnett, Frances Hodgson, 115. Bush, Rufus T., 65, 78, 79. Cable, Geo. W., 186 ff. Cambridge, 40, 45 ff. Carleton, Will, 155. Carlyle, Thomas, 56. Carn^ie, Andrew, 115, 128, 154. Carroll, Lewis; interview with, 221 ff. Carroll Park Methodist Episcopal Church, 13. Cary, Anna Louise, 64. Cary, Clarence, 68 S., 74, 76 ff., 108. Castle, Vernon, 385 ff. Century Magazine, 377 ff. Chambersburg, 19, 209. Chicago, 182. Chicago, Burlington and Quincy Railroad, 252 ff. Chicago News, 181, 186. Chicago Tribune, 355. Child Federation, 358 ff. Childs, George W., 20, 158. Cincinnati, 257. Cincinnati Times-Star, 108. Claflin, A. B., 65. Clemens, Samuel, see Mark Twain. Clemens, Mrs. Samuel, 128. Cleveland, Ohio, 356. Cleveland, President, 298 ff., 383 ff. Coghlan, Rose, 61 ff. Collier, Robert J., 344. Colver, Frederic, 63 ff., 80. Committee on Public Information, 399. Concord, 54. Coolidge, Dr. Emeljm L., 176 ff. Cornell, Alonzo B., 17. Cosmopolitan Magazine, 79. Country Life, Curtis's purchase of, 238 ff . ; Doubleday's purchase of, 239. 379. "Craigie House," 46. Crawford, Marion, 233. Curtis, Cyrus H. K., 155 ff., 200 ff.; new building of, 258 ff., 346 ff., 378 ff. Curtis, Mrs. Cyrus H. K., 160. Curtis, M. L., 218. Curtis Publishing Company, 200, 239; new building, 258, 260, 265. Dana, Charles A., 235 ff. Davenport, Fannie, 150 ff. INDEX 459 Davis, Jefferson, letter from, 211 ff.; visit with, 25, 26. Davis, Richard Harding, 136. De Forest, Lockwood, 310. De Koven, Reginald, 365. Democracy Triumphant, 115, 154. De Monvel, Boutet, 262. Doctor JekyU and Mr. Hyde, 113, "5, "7- Dodgson, Rev. Chas. L., see Lewis Carroll. Dorscheimer, Governor, 105. Doubleday, Frank M., iii ff., 127, 147, 154, 166, 239, 309 ff., 377. Doubleday, Page and Co., iii, 239. Doyle, Conan, 233. Dumas, fils, 229, 230. Du Maurier, George, 136. Early, General Jubal, letter from, 19, 209. Edinburgh, 405. Edison, Thomas A., 17. Eliot, President, 278. Elizabeth, Queen of the Belgians, 391, 392- Elkins, George W., 13, 245. Elman, Mischa, 369 ff. Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 34; Bok's visit to, 54 ff. Empress of Asia, 416. Evarts, Wm. M., 29. Farrar, Canon, contribution from, 66. Federal Bureau of Americanization, 420. Field, Cjrrus W., 425. Field, Eugene, friendship with, i3i, 189, 209 ff.; death of, 232. Fifth Avenue Hotel, 21, 24. Fitch, George, 173. Flaherty, James A., 341. Foch, Ferdinand, 400. Freer, Charles L., 248. Fremont, Ohio, 88. Frick, Henry C, 248. Frost, A. B., 117. Gardner, Mrs. John L., 248. Garfield, Dr. H. A., 392. Garfield, James A., letter to, 18; call on, 21. Garland, Hamlin, 233. Garrison, Wm. Lloyd, 60. Gerard, J. W., 391. Gibbons, Cardinal, 66. Gibson, C. D., 231, 245. Gladstone, Wm. E., 198 ff. Gladstone, Mrs., 198 ff.' Gorgas, Wm. C, 391. Gould, Jay, 68 ff. Grant, U. S., letter from, 19; call on, 21; dinner with, 21 ff., 29; speech of, 30, 34; contributions from, 68. Great War, 387. Greenaway, interview with, 225 ff. Grey, Earl, 353. Hamill, Dr. Samuel McClintock, 358. Hapgood, Norman, 344. Harland, Marion, 66. Harmon, Dudley, 388. Harper and Brothers, 13, 20, 207. Harper's Magazine, 13, 378. Harper's Weekly, 13. Harper's Young People, 13. Harris, Joel Chandler, 233. Harrison, Benjamin, 192, 194 ff., 210, 232 ff. Harrison, Mrs. Burton, 233. Havemeyer, Mrs., 248. Hay, Ian, 389. Hay, John, 139. Hayes, R. B., call on, 21: report of speech of, 30 ff.; drive -with. 460 INDEX 31 ff.; call on, 33; contribution from, 66, 87 ff. Hegeman, Evelyn Lyon, 64. Hegeman, Paul, 394. Hitchcock, Ripley, 19 ff. Hodges, Dean, 375. Hofman, Josef, 365 ff. Holmes, O. W., 34; visit with, 35 ff., 47; book introduction by, 207. Holt, Henry, and Company, 75, 104, 108. Hoover, Herbert, 390, 425. Howard, Joseph, Jr., 134. Howe, Julia Ward, 303. Howells, William Dean, 66, 19T, 202, 212 ff., 374. Hulme, Thomas W., 398. Indianapolis, 282. Jerome, Jerome K., 233. Jewett, Sarah Orne, 233. Johnson, Eldridge R., 363. Johnson, John G., 248. Keller, Helen, 375. Kellogg, Clara Louise, 64. King, Horatio, 65. Kipling, J. Lockwood, 309. Kipling, Rudyard, 191, 213 ff., 2i9ff., 234, 306; Bokand,3i3 ff., 316; English trip of, 309, 312; Ladies' Home Journal, work of, 375. 379. 380, 384. Ladies' Home Journal, 155 ff., 159; Bok editor of, 166, history of, 166; patent-medicine advertising in, 201 ff., 340, 345; "Dirty Cities" in, 256 flF., 258; Roose- velt in, 275 ff., 283, 299, 301, 307, 310, 321 ff., 324, 346 ff., 354, 437; Fourth of July celebration ap- proved by, 355, 356; music in, 365; success of, 374, 375 ff., 384; war policy and work of, 389-393; Bok's resignation from,4i 7ff.,423. Lady or the Tiger, 115 ff. Lane, Franklin K., 420. Lape, Esther Everett, 420. Lathrop, George Parsons, 108. Lee, General R. E., Grant's letter concerning, 19. Life, 355. Lincoln, Mrs. Abraham, Bok's visit to, 25. Little Lord Fauntleroy, 115, 117. London, 406. • Longfellow, H. W., letter from, 19. 34. 39 ff- Low, A. A., 31, 65. Low, Seth, 65, 444. Low, Will H., 245. Lynch, Albert, 245. Lynn, Mass., 256. Mabie, W. H., 291. McAdoo, Wm., 391. McFarland, J. Horace, 253 ff., 352, 354. Maclaren, Ian, 231 ff. Mallon, Mrs. Isabel, 171. Mansfield, Richard, 114, 117. Memphis, Tenn., 257. Mentor, The, 147. Metropolitan Hotel, 25 ff. Moffat, Wm. D., 147. Moffat, Yard & Co., 147. Moody, Dwight L., 233. Morgan, J. Pierpont, 248. Moscowski, 365. Mott, John R., 389 ff., 395. Mott, Lucretia, 60. National Era, 94. Netherlands, i, 43, 45, 434 ff. New Haven, Conn., 257. New Orleans, La., 188. New York, autograph collecting INDEX 461 in, 20 ff., 34, 60, 79, 85 ff., 88, 356, 405- New York Evening Sun,i74.,z8s,388. New York Star, 105, 108, 152. New York Times, 329. New York Tribune, early letters in, 19. Nem York Weekly, 14. Niagara Falls, 352 ff. Nightingale, Florence, 224. North, Ernest Dressel, 147. Northcliffe, Viscount, 389. O'Brien, Robert L., 275. Orton, William, 17. Outlook, 363. Paderewski, 365. Parrish, Maxfield, 258 ff., 264. Patton, Francis L., 144 ff. Pavlowa, Madam, 386. Pennypacker, Mrs., 301, 356 ff. Phelps, E. Stuart, 233. Philadelphia, 20, 155 ff., 186 ff., 191, 232, 257- Philadelphia Public Ledger, 20. Philadelphia Times, 108, 155 ff. Phillips, Wendell, 46 ff., 60. Phiiomathean Review, 64. Philomathean Society, 64. Pinkham, Lavinia, 181. Pinkham, Lydia, 181. Pittsburgh, 257. Plymouth Church, 64, 70, 84, 211. Plymouth Pulpit, 65. Porter, Gene Stratton, 375. Presbyterian Review, 112, 144. Pyle, Howard, 261 ff. Queen, The, I. Raymond, Rossiter W., 65. Read, Opie, 182. Riley, James Whitcomb, 182 ff., 232, 319 ff., 380 ff. Roosevelt, Franklin D., 389. Roosevelt, Theodore, Panama Canal, 214 ff., 249 ff.; friend- ship with, 266, 268; Ladies' Home Journal, work of, 223, 274 ff., 283; Bok's son and, 284, 290; Niagara Falls and, 352 ff., 362 ff., 383, 438; Root, Elihu, 355. Russell, Sol Smith, 182 ff. Russia, 448. Safford, Ray, 147. Sangster, Margaret, 66. Saturday Evening Post, Curtis's purchase of, 239, 258. Schell, Augustus, 17. Schlicht, Paul J., 79. Scribner, Arthur H., 126. Scribner, Charles, 109, 126 ff. Scribner's Sons, Charles, 108 ff., 126, 129, 166. Scribner's Magazine, iii ff., 147, 378. Shaw, Anna Howard, 303, 390. Sheridan, P. H., 29, contributions from, 66. Sherman, General W. T., call on, 21; letter from, 23, 29; con- tribution from, 66; letter from Talmage, 215; letter to Talma ge, 216 ff. Slocum, Henry W., 65. Smedley, W. T., 245. Smith, F. Hopkinson, 375. Sousa, John Philip, 365. South Brooklyn Advocate, 10. Speer, Mrs. Robert E., 391. Stevenson, Robert Louis, visit to, 113 ff., 296. Stockton, Frank, II5 ff. Stokowski, Leopold, 368 ff. Storrs, Rev. Richard S., 130 ff. Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 140. Strauss, Edward, 365. 462 INDEX Strauss, Richard, 365. Sullivan, Sir Arthur, 227 S., 365. Sullivan, Mark, 343 ff. Taft, Charles P., 248. Taft, Wm. H., 210 ff., 354 ff., 383, 389. Talmage, Rev. T. De Witt, 65, 90. Taylor, W. L., 245. Tennyson, Alfred, Lord, letter from, 19- Thursby, Emma C, 64. Tiffany, Louis C, 263 ff. Tosti, 365. Transvaal Republic, 193. Trenton, N. J., 256. Trilby, 136 ff. Twain, Mark, 128, "^139, 149 ff., 204 ff., 382. Twombly, Hamilton McK., 17. Uncle Tom's Cabin, 94 ff. University Club, 266. Valentine, 149. Vanderbilt, William H., 17. Van Dyke, Catherine, 393. Van Dyke, Henry, 375. Van Rensselaer, Alexander, 372. Verne, Jules, 228 ff. Walker, E. D., 74. Washington, George, 45. Webster, Jean, 375. Western Union Telegraph Com- pany, 15, 68, 71, 73 ff., 76. Wheeler, Miss Marianna, 177. White, Stanford, 242, 243. Whittier, John Greenleaf, Bok's letter from, 19, 208. Widener, Joseph E., 248. Wiggin, Kate Douglas, 233, 375. Wilcox, Ella Wheeler, 105. Wiles, Irving R., 245. Wilkes-Barre, Pa., 256 ff. Wilkinson, Eklward S., 396. Willard, Frances E., 219. Wilmington, Del., 261. Wilson, Francis, 186 ff. Wilson, Margaret, 391. Wilson, Woodrow, 381. Y. M. C. A., 29, 389, 395 ff., 398, 400. Y. W. C. A., 391. Pna3Etit"u:0 TO HARTWECIC CCLLSIQi. ONEONTA, N. Y. BY LT, p. KINNEY