Elbert and Alice Hubbards Progressive Writings and Journalism

Alice Hubbard's Progressive Writings and Elbert and Alice Hubbard's Progressive Writings and Journalism - Kindle edition by Bruce A. White, Alice Hubbard.
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I thank you more than I can say for an immortal day. I live it over and over — on my horse out in the sunshine and storm. Thank you, and Adelaide and Edna; I am deeply grateful that you have their loving attention. I am grateful to have spent a long, lovely day there. Hubbard was shown the " sights. Hubbard had much to do with the pr eparatio n of these famo us vo lumes, although I could not induce her to say so. In his writings, Elbert Hubbard displays a greater fund of information than any other American writer. As he is a great genius and not a great scholar, probably he got much of this information from his wife, who was a schoolteacher before her marriage.

Adelaide and Edna prepared an excellent dinner, but Mrs. Hubbard ate very s paring ly. Hubbard left the Hills, the neighbors got together as a Turn Over Club, and the first question asked was, "How old is she? Her hair indicated around forty- eight, as did the care with which she selected and ate her food.


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Hubbard was on her way to visit her daughter Miriam, in school at Madison, Wisconsin. The Asso- ciated Press once sent out a telegram saying that Miriam was exactly the right weight and height for a girl of nineteen; that her waist-measure and bust- measure were exactly what they should be, according to the medical gentlemen who study the human family. Therefore it is probable that Miriam is a little proud; but I know she was satisfied when she showed her mother to the other girls. I was much pleased with the man's personality; his gentle politeness to Adelaide was noticeable.

Adelaide wanted a new suit and we visited a ladies' tailor, and asked Mr. Hubbard to pick out the material and style, which he did, taking great interest in the commission. The tailor had seen Mr. Hubbard at the Orpheum, as had his clerk, and both of these took much interest in him; we also saw the tailors stealing glances at him from the workroom. Going down in the elevator, a woman introduced her- self to him ; he was known everywhere. We visited many places, and we were much pleased with him, but some- how we did not feel as free with him as we did with his wife.

He was the host at dinner, and talked entertain- ingly; and very slowly — we remember that in particu- lar. We remarked, also, his politeness and gentleness. As he was a very famous man, perhaps we were not as agreeably surprised in him as we were in his wife. He talked a great deal ofJJ. He said laughingly, to Adelaide, that there were only two writers whose writings his wife read completely. Our acquaintance began with a letter from him: Long before I met Elbert Hubbard, and long before he had written me, I admired him unreservedly, as a master at his trade.

After meeting him, I did not admire him more. Meeting him was a gre ater ev ent than meet- ing his wife, because she was not a noted genius, nor was she as widely known; but my great admiration for Mrs. Hubbard came after knowing her. In all the women I like, there is a certain woman ly mode sty and gentle- ness; Adelaide and Edna, my nieces, have it. Alice Hubbard had it. I like the shy, retiring type of woman.

Alice Hubbard was that type. A woman I greatly admire is the wife of a farmer. I admire her because she is so fond of her husband and children, and is so useful, modest and highly esteemed. Alice Hubbard not only reminded me of this farmer's wife, but looked like her. When I think of the Hubbards, dead, floating about the sea, I believe the memory of Mrs. Elbert Hubbard was rich and famous, a man, and hp. When I met her, she didn't look very well; and she was so quiet and gentle, and admired Elbert and Miriam so much.

I remarked that she understood the philosophy of life ; whatever was true she accepted: But I think of her as a gentle, intelligent, useful mother of whom her daughter Miriam may think with mournful pride and satisfaction. That they should have been taken away at a time when that work was so much needed is a great misfortune to the world, and, of course, a dreadful loss to those who were near and dear to them. Those of us so fortunate as to meet him in the Roycroft Inn, where his great pulsating heart and plain but affa- ble manners seemed to give us a renewed strength and a greater desire to get real pleasure out of what- ever our various vocations and professions called us to do, can but say he was a great man.

He whose life pulsates with human love and cheering words as did Hubbard's will not be found frowning in the hour of doom. Though the liquid grave claimed his mortal body, his writings will rise above as a beautiful halo arched above human hearts whose whispers of love will continue to vibrate in the minds of those who admired him.

No intellect could wield such power as did his, without having a spark of the divine in its construction. Hubbard not only as writer, editor, and a man to read about, but personally as a human being and a friend. Not that I had any particular call upon his friendship because of my close acquaintance with him, but because his was a friendship of a man, for a man. He was gifted with a deeper insight into the humanity of man than any other person I ever met.

It was like a little child going to Jesus with his troubles. He was never too busy to see you, nor so deeply engrossed with other matters that his soul would not instantly unfold to you, and he became at once a com- forter, because he understood! The human understanding never attains to the heights of philosophic perfection reached by Elbert Hubbard, unaided by sympathy and love. His genius and his kindly philosophy marked him a man among men. I am now reminded most forcibly of his prophetic words in " The Fra," shortly after the sinking of the " Titanic.

To pass out as did Mr. Isador Straus is glorious. Few have such a privilege. In life they were never separated and in death they are not divided. No greater blessing than the artistic con- science can come to any worker in art, be he sculptor, writer, singer or painter. Hold fast to it, and it shall be your compass when the sun is darkened. To please the public is little; but to satisfy your Other Self, that self which looks over your shoulder and watches your every thought and deed, is much. No artistic success worth having is possible unless you satisfy that Other Self. Plain folk and simplest kind Will thus remember him.

He looked for wit And character. He on them, bee-like, lit. And drained their honeys with a generous mind.


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For all he gave again to all. And now In pall of Erin's mystic wave he lies, The gorse his golden wreath. All Nature sighs Immaculate, above his vanished brow. He was a seer! If all the world had known The heart-beat of his wit, then obsolete Were war! Let one black rock beyond his feet Read now, in letters gold: EN say too seldom, " I love you. He saw clearly that every success, however attained, indicates some admirable qualities. Perhaps he empha- sized too little in his words the compelling influence of social conditions, due to our system of legalized monop- oly: The first time he showed me the Roy croft plant, with its well -lighted, sanitary rooms and modern appliances, he said, before I had a chance to ask about wages and profits: Only we provide the best for the workers that we can get ; we treat them well.

Others will write about " Lady Hyacinthe," who had so profound an influence on her husband ; so I need only say that, although there were few things on which she and I thought alike, I have never received more grace- ful and spontaneous kindness than from her. I remember once at lunch with Elbertus. I asked him if he thought he had really benefited East Aurora. Elbert believed that Nature has no use for the man that does not work, and that when any one ceases to be useful, the Law of the Universe quickly kills the drone.

Elbert was not afraid of life: When he published " A Letter From a Lady in Boston," an attack on marital ownership, it lost him a hundred subscribers a week. Multitudes survive our Fra who blessed his name and will always listen to his voice because he first taught them to think about vital things and not to be afraid of any expression of Truth or ashamed of any expression of Love. The man who allows his life to justify itself, and lets his work speak, and who when reviled reviles not again, must be a very great and lofty soul.

He was so much of an individual that he stood by himself. I have an idea that he felt that if he could completely understand human nature he could completely and easily serve humanity. He was in love with humanity. He deeply admired human achievement, but he was exceedingly tolerant of human weakness. He understood human nature in its relaxed moments just as he did when it was weighed with depressing burdens or when it was demonstrating extraordinary mental or physical achieve- ment.

He knew it was the same human nature always. I would say that he was a truly great man if I could say it for no other reason than that while I have heard many people criticize him personally I never heard him speak unkindly of any human being. For a man's acts or policies he might have criticism, but for the man personally I can not conceive of his holding animosity. C His influence can not be measured, because of the wide range of topics he covered in his writings, and the tremendous circulation that they had. I want my library to hold everything he wrote.

Thus I can always keep in close touch with him. Whatever he wrote made the reader think. No man of my acquaintance had as many friends in different walks of life. I suppose that to each of them he was a different Elbert Hubbard. He knew how to harmonize himself with others. He could talk athletics to a boy, college education to a girl, art to a woman, business to a man, politics, philosophy, literature or anything else to anybody. Twenty years from now he will still be alive. Because he knew human nature, he knew that within that length of time after his life had ended, human nature itself will have selected the enduring part of his work — which is the largest part.

He was optimistic, constructive, aggressive, philosoph- ical and practical. None of the rest of us have that talent. Hub- bard, as I knew her intimately. Hubbard expected to be one of the speakers at our National Convention, after which she intended to return with me to pay me a visit at my home in Tacoma, Villa DeVoe. The last letter I received from her was written on April Twenty-seventh, in which she said: I would like to talk on 'War and Woman' for your Convention when I return.

These services were most impressive and were conducted by the venerable Reverend Olympia Brown, the first woman ordained to preach in the United States, she being a Universalist. Hub- bard could not be present to speak, excerpts from her writings were read at the Convention; after which, loving and appropriate resolutions were passed. President National Council of Women Voters p.

Probably those who follow the printing craft owe most of all. Every piece of printed matter that bears the imprint of The Roycrofters is a valuable addition to the art preservative: And Fra Elbertus is dead — but his kindly spirit will live with many of us for years to come.

While he did not know me personally, though I have received an occa- sional communication from him, I knew him personally, and greatly admired him. South Africa Johfl E. His keen insight, wonderful gift in the use of the English language, poetic genius, his power for epigrammatic construction, and unusual ability for practical things made him a marked man. It fell to him, as to few, to move the world by pen and word.

He made us to weep and to laugh, and to ever replace him will be an impossibility. His friends are numbered by the tens of thousands among all classes, and his useful life and tragic death will never be forgotten by them. How strong an arm he lent for justice. How valorous flung his phrase for right, And how he strove to lift the humble. To break the bonds of vicious might! So, you who come this day for praising.

Say fair of him gone down at sea — Brave soul outbound on life's adventure — " He lived his life as life should be. We come not to mourn. He would not have desired that. We come to rejoice in this beautiful month, this beautiful day of the bridal month. We come amid the beauties of the things, and the environments in which he fulfilled a life destiny, the like of which is not rivaled in the annals of any public man or any man in literature today.

Go over to the Chapel, go to the remotest hamlet or village in this country, and you find the impress of the power of Elbert Hubbard. We can not think of him as dead. It was a word he never used, and in his " Man of Sorrows " — which I have been reading within the hour at the suggestion of his Mother, after a beautiful talk with her she was re-reading his description of the Man of Nazareth — the IN MEMORIAM last words uttered by Christ on earth are the last words in that book: But it is only the outward shell of his work.

In the hearts, minds and intellects of those who read his epigrams, which are flashed all over the world, translated into every language, we find the imprint of our dear friend who had planned to meet us here tonight. C He is not here; but somehow his presence is here. As on the last night in dear old Roycroft, when he left after bidding farewell to his people, it seemed I could feel the analogy of his words and Lincoln's to his people at Springfield.

The last words of the Fra uttered in the temple, in God's own temple of the woods, also in this place which he left, were: C It was, I think, about a year ago, or a httle more, that I returned from my home in the West, and the Fra had the tables decorated with petunias — his touch, his idea, that day.

Elbert Hubbard, An Enigmatic Progressive

And those petunias at once flashed to me thrills of my own home. I had gone out to the old home and found the house had been torn down. There stood the old chimney — a cold picture in ruins. I had looked into the cellar where we used to keep the cabbages, rutabagas and potatoes and had gone out to the barn where the cows stood patiently waiting to be milked. Then I went down the old lane, down to the plum-orchard, and to the old bed of pet unias blushing with the glow of a mother's love and shining in the beautiful sunlight of that home scene.

I gathered them in my arms, simply, as a mother would have gathered her child, carried them out to the hill- side, and dropped them petal by petal on my mother's grave. And the language of the flowers seemed to say that the chasm was bridged. The Fra stood at my right. After the meeting we went out to the Tea-House, and the Fra said: That night far afield we sat on a log in the pasture.

Under the witchery of the moonUght he spoke of the ages past.

Elbert Hubbards Progressive Writings Journalism

All the great panorama of history seemed potently familiar to him — Pe ricle s, Euripides, and those who are in the musty tomes of the library. But he resurrected them and brought them to the people. He brought back to this country the realization of the true value of literature. You have played on the grounds and greensward this afternoon in the glow of this beautiful day.

We played ball with that soft-nosed ball. He said it was n't right to use the hard league-ball, so he used this great big comfortable ball, and we threw it at each other and he reminded me of the days of " ante-over. His career is expressed in one word. It was not indicated. And that was the word that has been the greatest word of all words — Love.

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He loved to help them. We have sat at his feet and absorbed the inspiration of those great visions that he had — always so beautiful, so full of cheer and hope. We were moving those cases that you saw today in which were letters sacred to him. That letter from Rockefeller was in reply to one in which Mr. Hubbard had notified Mr. Rockefeller that the blac k shee p he admired had been sent as a gift and had been named Judge Landis in memory of the twenty-nine-million-dollar fine.

He never lost the sense of humor! And the reply that he received you will find over there in the case. In those cases you will find treasures that I doubt you could equal in the archives of literature today. He received his inspiration down in dear old New England. Then we went over to the library on that quiet afternoon, where are books of his writings, manuscripts bound in volumes — volume after volume. One of his favorite colors was yellow — the yellow with the glow of the sunrise and the glow of the sunset.

Yellow was somehow the emblem of optimism, of hope. And in that library, as we sat there looking at the books, he said, " This will be my monument. Every writer knows what this means! CL There were pages that had the tribute to woman- hood — " White Hyacinths," all in that row of manu- script: And yet when he sailed on that boat, one of the last letters I think he wrote was a hurried note to a Tew friends, one. Hand in hand with Alice Hubbard, the woman he loved, he sank and faded away. Imagine that great stalwart man having to come, as he inevitably would have had to come, to the breaking down and lying on the bed of illness, passing out in the ordinary way of human kind, with the machinery rust- ing and wearing out.

But God in His infinite wisdom and mercy has taken him away. Perhaps he would have wished it. I was in Wa shington when the tremor was shaking this country, when fists were doubled with rage to feel that our own loved ones had been sacrificed by that murder- ous torpedo. Oh, the cruelty of it all! And yet we can almost see coming out of that vast deep, the spirit of Elbert Hubbard, and with that placid, sweet smile: And as my time comes, as your time comes, whether it comes in threescore — and he nearly reached the threescore mark: Straus in remaining with her husband until the waters closed over them.

I know that Mr. Hubbard met death in the same way. I have always felt that I knew Mr. Hubbard perhaps as well as any man did, outside of his immediate family. To know him was to love him. On our many trips together, we were companions, not employer and em- ployee. Not only did he have a superior intellect, but the inner man rang true. When a mere youth my spirits were quickened and my ambitions stirred by his "Little Journeys. The Hubbards were great, talented and useful workers for the betterment of the world. That high intelligence, sweet life, and noble purposes should be thus brought to an end overwhelms us with sorrow for the fallen estate of those who could perpetrate such a crime.

But to have lived nobly, to have loved truly — this is something Fate could not deny to those capable of it. These two, no doubt, would have preferred, had they been permitted to choose, that the blow should come to them together, without long and lingering sorrow. Nature was more kind to them than man. The thought of the love of God can not be grasped in the slightest degree, even as a working hypothesis, by a man who does not know human love. Is it a nation's throb? V I V Is it leviathans that plow the deep? Is it to raze, ravish, and destroy, Make earth a waste devoid of joy, Turn back for years the hand of time, And make brute force an end sublime?

Beneath the wave Ruined casket holds power to save. Life was a glorious growth and power. To bloom and ripen every hour. His creed was in an endless " do "; No beaten trail could he pursue ; All talents used to weight his blow To fell the hypocrite and foe. He proved the truth in all he wrought, That power — is honest living thought. It supplied the title for his novelized life of John Brown of Ossawatomie perhaps his most ambitious attempt at book-writing.

He recurred to it again and again in his essays, as if it were the ground-note of his thought. Beyond question, it haunted him like a threat of Destiny, for having come a little late to his chosen work, no man was ever more wrought upon by a fury to achieve — to accomplish — to do his stint at whatever cost, and pass on!

And like a finger pointed with flame, it rose before my mind with the first rumor of his terrible fate. There, I said, is the burden of all the years. And the Preacher's words knelled in my ear with a crushing weight of irony. For here indeed was a case, if ever there were one, in which the race was not to the swift nor the battle to the strong. Elbert Hubbard was a fatalist. I saw this from an early moment of our acquaintance. Many took this trait for a pose ; some deduced from it a character for heartless- ness, which they freely thrust upon him.

His fatalism was deeply rooted in his nature, and it imparted a certain melancholy Hamlet-like charm to his personality I speak of him as I first knew him. His gait was that of a man who would be wise and cautious in all ways, but who knew that the ordering of ultimate destinies is not within any man's power. He carried himself bravely and jauntily, yet with circum- spection ; and often he seemed to pause and listen for a word of the Fates. I could not imagine him playing the coward to Destiny. Short as was the grace allowed him, I believe he stood up like a brave man in the last awful moment, and that no man on the " Lusitania " met his death with a stronger soul.

But he died not alone. The woman who had been the great love of his life — and for whom in the eyes of the world he had made shipwreck of his life — shared his death. Hand in hand they went together into the Silence, called home by the Searcher of hearts, to whom alone is judgment. I must think it was a lovely and enviable consummation for these two, with just the touch of tragedy needed to make their story immortal: The present writer was unlucky enough to have been estranged from Elbert Hubbard some fourteen years ago by circumstances which need not now be recalled.

The quarrel was actively served and diligently pro- moted by our common friends — I don't think the hearts of the principals were ever much in it. But it was a very pretty quarrel, eagerly ministered to by the creatures of envy, hatred and jealousy. There was bitter talk and counter-talk which the common friends alluded to traded back and forth with a quite incredible alacrity, never forgetting to dot and carry one in the process. I can only hope that no ill-conditioned person may take it into his head to reprint any words of mine put forth long ago in anger and bitterness.

I have no sort of fellowship with those who will not let the dead rest and who would heap obloquy and judgment upon the grave. How could I hate a man who seemed to share the ideals of my youth — a friend with whom I have laughed and held communion in the things of the mind? Perhaps I am not to be pitied for the estrangement, in a way, as it gives me leave to recall the Elbert Hubbard of eighteen or twenty years ago — a quaintly romantic figure, with its bravado of long hair and eccentric costume ; the dark magnetic eye with its hint of power ; the mobile face, a little stern, that yet easily yielded to mirth — if it were not too fantastic, I would almost say, a blend of Alfred Jingle and Robert Louis the beloved.

His smile was very beautiful in those days: The dreamer was then uppermost in Elbert Hubbard, so that those who knew the man only in his later, harder period may scarce recognize this portrait. Alas, the race is not to the swift nor the battle to the strong! It is the man I knew and loved, the " bon camarade," the melancholy Jaques of our lighter literature, as rare a spirit as ever wore the motley, who now stands before me as I trace these words: Yes — yes, I remember. Sleep well, my friend! Wherever he went life was quickened, inspired. He was a galvanic force.

His was a life of adventure, adventure in the realm of mind and understanding ; adventure in life and thought; but his was an adventure without violence. He preached the gospel of the universal man, and he himself was a universal man. He was one of the most remarkable men this country has ever produced. His original way of saying things, his genial humor, his absence of malice and his great constructive ability made him a rare man who has left his stamp of personality upon his times. Always in the Silence he loved, could I hear its rhythmic rise and fall, and ever some word of hope and blessing reached my listening ear.

To Alice, I looked for the understanding and sympathy of our mutual sex, and drew upon her unfailing store of wisdom, only learned through the travail of suffering. She stood, for me, on the highest pinnacle of woman- hood, and to reach her level was my despair. Strange as it may sound, I was never able to overcome a foolish fear of losing them, if I rashly rushed my present personality into the Roycroft Shop ; but now that they can see me as I am, from behind the veil, I am content.

I can never lose them, they know now how I loved them, they know me as I knew them, " One with the Father"; and when my time for the great un- masking comes, we shall meet " face to face," loving, and beloved, as of yore. Meanwhile, I must perpetuate their memory in deeds of love for Love's sake, so shall they continue to live in me and I in them. But who can estimate The overflowing wealth of heart and mind, Left by these truest lovers of mankind? To all who knew and loved this Peerless Pair, Matched, perfect souls, than Sultan's pearls more rare, Who looked on Life, and seeing, found it fair, Loved it, and called it " Day " ; Who bade us rise to heights, and showed the way Through " Love and Work and Play.

They live in us, and in our lives repeat Though but the faintest echo of their Voice The melody they made of Love complete. So may some highest note reach where they are, Upon what happy star, That hearing, they must fain leap and rejoice, And sweetly smiling, say, " All 's right with them as in our Heaven, Amen I They know and go the Way, Love never faileth, we shall meet again. While my acquaintance with him was not intimate and I did not have that opportunity of association with him which I would have greatly appreciated and enjoyed, what little I did see of him enabled me to develop a great admiration for his knowledge of human nature and his ability to inspire men with ideas which make for the good of humanity.

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His death is a loss not only to this country but to all the world, and in this connection it may interest you to know that he was beginning to be very liberally quoted throughout Latin America. His writings and sayings were attracting attention there, and many of the principal magazines and newspapers were giving special space to them. May I, therefore, as a Pan- American myself, state that all America keenly suffers from his sad and sudden departure from the midst of our activities, but we all wish you success in carrying on the splendid work which he initiated.

JohTl Banett, Imagination is sympathy illumined by love and ballasted by brains. The soul of Elbert Hubbard was a treasure-house of sense. His mind was a mint of keen, sensible satire. His gift was magic in words. His disposition to attack the vanity and vain- glory, the avarice and falsehood of life, was as bold as unshackled truth itself. His pen was his sword of offense and defense, and when a product in the form of " The Philistine " went abroad, it proved sharper than any two-edged sword in its effect on the shams of life.

He did things, and he did them well.

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In spite of obstacles which would have discouraged most men, he carried out his plans to the letter. Some sought to crush him. He came out on top like a cork on water. He made them sit up and take notice. He violated dogmatic codes and made his critics ashamed. He exposed the shams of society, the humbuggery of the Medical Trust, the hypocrisy of religion.

He taught and practised the simple life. He left gems of literature — and died with his boots on.

If there is a life after this, we are pre- paring for it now, just as I am preparing today for my life tomorrow. Death nor danger had no horror. Life had been a work well done ; Now they sleep beneath the billows Kissed by morn' and evening sun. Sleep, dear friends, and may your slumber Wake in us a hope benign: May we profit by your precepts, May we make our lives divine. President Knoxville Business College rj.. HE hardest thing about the death of Elbert Hubbard is in realizing that he is gone. In a way we have all been expecting that some man sauntering on the Irish sands, or some steamer slow- ing down to pick up her pilot, would happen upon a floating bottle, and in that bottle a message from our friend the Fra.

He must have thought of that when he knew the " Lusitania " was sinking. There surely came upon him some wish to send his good-by to his friends. There was a thing then that he had to say to them to keep for his remembrance. And we dream yet that he found time to write that last word on a sheet of paper, and cork it in a bottle, and cast that bottle on the waves. For Hubbard was our Speechmaster.

He was our Poet. He made his wisdom for our common -days. He was of us, the Folks that Make the World; he was as strong, as weak as we are. And we that loved him loved without illusion. There was genius in Elbert Hubbard — genius and a Song that reached the heart of us and sent us tramping bravely through our days. He made the job we had to do Worth While. He sang the enduring virtues, for he sang of labor and of business and of railroads and the little things we do from mom to night that make the world go 'round.

We sawed wood with him ; kept shop ; went to our banks ; hammered the iron upon the anvil 'till it was a creditable shoe ; dispelled our doubts and fears concerning failure ; sang in the morn- ing as we scrubbed our face ; and went to bed, holding that life was excellent. And now he lies deep in the old Atlantic and listens to the ship's bells overhead and goes to sleep again when they have passed. Well, let him lie there ; the sea 's the grave of heroes ; and, when it opens to the Trump of Doom, he will walk up the sands and stand before the Throne and say in answer to the Herald's challenge, " I did the best I could.

We like to think of him in Paradise ; joking with Peter ; telling tales to Paul ; the Secretary of the Apostles' Club ; sending a message by a shooting-star down there to East Aurora ; making his Little Journeys to the Saints ; wishing at times to see the colored man walk through the Pullmans droning " last call for dinner in the dining-car. M 1 Well, he will never hear that call again until Mankind sits down to table at the Day of Judgment to sup with God the King. But we will think of him until the end — a friend who is not dead, but waits Somewhere for us to greet us unawares.

For he is but upon some Journey gone, and when we follow him it is our hope that we shall go as he went, cheerful and unafraid, content to die or live as it should happen, and saying in the end, " Life liked me well. He is immortal, and with the immortals sings today. We knew him and we liked him. He made songs from the commonplace. He made the commonplace seem Best of All. His little books were testaments of courage. C He must have stood up when he knew that Death was coming and hailed Him with a cheer and said: It 's your job ; don't you see?

So do it gracefully. I 'm busy, Elbert, but not too busy to wish you 'd stayed at home. Life 's where your business lies. And then the sea runs smoothly where the " Lusitania " sank. That message in a bottle is bobbing 'round the old Atlantic. We '11 wait for it until it drives ashore. I have used his mottoes and his writings a great many times, and certainly I shall miss words from his pen in the future. All I can say is that the whole country will miss Mr.

Hubbard and the grand work which they have done in the past, and particularly the writings of Mr. Hubbard to young people. Hubbard we had course to know his matchless integrity and those high qualities of mind and spirit that bespoke the great- ness of the man. Of course I knew that he was not making these books, but that he was insisting that others should make them as he himself would have made them had he been brought up to that trade. Hubbard, himself, could not have carved a statue or perhaps have drawn a picture, but when he was about his mind was of the character that would compel others to see things his way, and to do accordingly — and his way was good because he was good — artistic, high- minded, clean in spirit and body.

The man Hubbard was the guiding spirit of the place, as he was one of the guiding spirits of the world. Hubbard since Nineteen Hundred Three. Coming here from New York I engaged in business with more brains than money and naturally a little fearful lest I could not make it a paying thing ; when one day the good news came to me that Elbert Hubbard was to give a lecture here, and I assure you I lost no time in going to see him and hear him also, for by that time I was really at the crossroads, mentally.

Only those who know the joy of meeting old friends can appreciate my feelings at the moment when Mr. Hubbard's picture, today as we look on it, is a blessing, a benediction and an inspiration to me and my force. Margaret Weeks, Elbert Hubbard was as a brother to me. I shall miss him until the end comes for me. But, it does seem an impossible thing to voice what is in my heart. Subscribers read for free. Available for download now. White and Alice Hubbard. Bohemians, Bootleggers, Flappers, and Swells: Relive the vintage days of christmas.

A Gift to all Santa's children from woolworths. Includes Santa and the snowball patrol. Relive the vintage days Previous Page 1 2 Show results for New Releases Last 30 days Last 90 days. Your recently viewed items and featured recommendations. View or edit your browsing history. Get to Know Us. English Choose a language for shopping. For Morris and Hubbard, mass industry, mass quantity, and outsourcing would destroy the arts. Roycroft was the name of both the publishing house also called a 'shop' and the press itself. From the s to the s, the Roycroft movement expanded quickly.

Hubbard attracted the attention of like-minded, progressive artists and activists. Hubbard's Roycroft movement became both a commercial and communal venture. Returning to a personal note, Elbert Hubbard remarried in to a school teacher named Alice, and they had one daughter. They were returning to the U. They went down with the ship. The Roycroft Press continued to produce books, art, and goods until its demise in , due to the Great Depression's financial crisis. There's a reason why the late 19th century was dubbed the 'Progressive Era'.

It was an age of great change in America. But a subculture of writers, politicians, and artists pushed back. They clung to the promise of Utopia It's just that Industrialists and politically-minded artists envisioned that future world very differently. Get FREE access for 5 days, just create an account. The Roycrofters adopted a philosophy that combined utopian thinking with a cooperative work ethic.

Hubbard drew from William Morris' socialist activism and adopted a free market capitalist agenda. With the Roycroft movement, he inspired artists, craftsmen, and tradesmen to work collaboratively in a kind of cottage industry a pre-industrial system where artisans crafted products in domestic settings. They rejected the hierarchical factory system as well as the up-and-coming assembly line model of mass production. The Roycrofters used hand press and letterpress printing machines to create beautifully illustrated books.

The artist's collective produced two magazines and a plethora of limited edition books. They began publishing The Fra, a large-format monthly magazine, in In addition to these magazines, Roycroft also produced about 30 individual books. Elbert Hubbard became its most prolific author, publishing books on history, biography, politics, fiction, and an autobiography. In the essay, Hubbard bemoans the fate of the mindless worker. In his view, Industrialization is not progress Elbert Hubbard began his career working as a soap salesman. In the s, he turned to writing and art.

The Roycrofters embraced the philosophy of Utopia , along with a cooperative work ethic. They were a fringe movement that rubbed up against the burgeoning Industrialization and Mass Production initiative happening in America during the progressive era. To unlock this lesson you must be a Study. Login here for access. Did you know… We have over college courses that prepare you to earn credit by exam that is accepted by over 1, colleges and universities. You can test out of the first two years of college and save thousands off your degree.

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Elbert Hubbards Progressive Writings Journalism

To learn more, visit our Earning Credit Page. Not sure what college you want to attend yet? The videos on Study. Students in online learning conditions performed better than those receiving face-to-face instruction. By creating an account, you agree to Study. Explore over 4, video courses. Find a degree that fits your goals. Start Your Free Trial Today. Ivy Roberts Ivy is a doctoral student at Virginia Commonwealth University studying media studies and cultural history.

Add to Add to Add to. Want to watch this again later? In this lesson, you will learn about the life and work of Elbert Hubbard. Inspired by William Morris' Arts and Crafts Movement, Hubbard founded an artist collective in Buffalo, New York, in the late 19th century, and became a prolific writer and progressive force in American society. Roycroft Press Returning to a personal note, Elbert Hubbard remarried in to a school teacher named Alice, and they had one daughter.

Hubbard's Philosophy There's a reason why the late 19th century was dubbed the 'Progressive Era'. Want to learn more? Select a subject to preview related courses: