TWO SIDES TO THE QUESTION
It was the afternoon of a day in the first week of January, 1893.
I sat in an easy chair in front of the open fire in my private
office deep in thought. In my hand was the balance-sheet for 1892,
showing a profit of over seventy thousand dollars. I was considering
both sides of a momentous question. It was whether or not to retire
from business.
I had for years looked forward with delightful anticipation to the
time when I could do this. I wanted to travel extensively. In my
library were many books of travel, all of which had been read with
great interest. I had an eager longing to see for myself all parts
of the civilized world; not in haste, but at my own leisure. I
wanted to devote years to a journey that should cover the globe.
My affairs were in excellent shape. Within a period of sixty days
I could liquidate my business and retire with about three hundred
thousand dollars. I had my home, complete in its appointments;
my library; my stable, with all that it could contribute to our
pleasure and comfort; my health, and I was but forty-two years
of age. That was one side, now for the other. The largest income
I could expect with my capital securely invested would be fifteen
thousand dollars. My balance-sheet showed that in 1892 I had drawn
forty-four thousand. I considered where my expenditures could be
cut down. There was the long list of pensioners, relatives, and
friends who for years had been receiving regularly from me a monthly
cheque on which they depended for their comfort. Could that be cut
off? Surely not.
There was a still longer list of people, many of whom I knew
but slightly, who from time to time called on me for help, always
as loans but rarely returned. I kept no record of such things and
never requested repayment. Could that item be cut out? No, for
when a man appealed to me for assistance, I knew not how to refuse
him. He always received it.
There were all the charities, St. John's Guild, Fresh-Air Funds,
hospitals, home for crippled children, and the personal charities
of my wife amongst the poor--could these be dropped? Again, no.
Then I looked at home. The education of our children--my elder son
was at Harvard with a liberal allowance; my eldest daughter at Miss
Dana's expensive school at Morristown; the rest of the children
taught at home by a visiting governess; the girls taking music
lessons--nothing could be done here. The education item was bound
to increase materially as the children grew older.
Then I thought of the monthly bills from Altman, Arnold, Constable
& Co., Lord & Taylor, and others. How about those? Oh no; I loved
to see my wife in her beautiful gowns and as the girls developed
into young ladies those bills would grow.
There seemed nothing left but the entertainment of our friends. A
large expense, but essential to our pleasure and position in society.
I carried a very large life insurance, but did not for a moment
think of reducing that.
Then my thoughts carried me farther. Suppose I could get my expenses
down to my income, how about the people we were helping in another
way, whose income would be seriously affected by my retiring?
There was one of our friends at Knollwood. He was employed on a
moderate salary, and when his wife inherited nine hundred dollars
he brought it to me and asked me to make some money for him. Now,
as a result, he was living in a house he had bought for eleven
thousand dollars and to cancel the mortgage of a few thousand he
relied upon me. There were those three old gentlemen in Connecticut
whose income from their investment with us was allowing them to
pass in comfort their declining years. Could I cut this off? No;
and there were many others.
It was clear to my mind that my labor was not yet at an end. I must
still keep at the helm, but I made a resolution that on my fiftieth
birthday I would retire.