Astor was tall, thin, and commanding in appearance. He had
only one hallucination, and that was that he spoke the English
language. The accent he possessed at thirty was with him
in all its pristine effulgence at eighty-five. ``Nopody vould
know I vas a Cherman--aind't it?'' he used to say. He spoke
French, a dash of Spanish and could parley in Choctaw, Ottawa,
Mohawk and Huron. But they who speak several languages must not
be expected to speak any one language well.

Yet when John Jacob wrote it was English without a flaw.
In all of his dealings he was uniquely honorable and upright.
He paid and he made others pay. His word was his bond. He
was not charitable in the sense of indiscriminate giving. ``To
give something for nothing is to weaken the giver,'' was one
of his favorite sayings. That this attitude protected a miserly
spirit, it is easy to say, but it is not wholly true. In his
later years he carried with him a book containing a record of his
possessions. This was his breviary. In it he took a very
pardonable delight. He would visit a certain piece of property,
and then turn to his book and see what it had cost him ten or
twenty years before. To realize that his prophetic vision had
been correct was to him a great source of satisfaction.

His habits were of the best. He went to bed at nine o'clock,
and was up before six. At seven he was at his office. He knew
enough to eat sparingly and to walk, so he was never sick.

Millionaires as a rule are woefully ignorant. Up to a
certain sum, they grow with their acquisitions. Then they