Author Title Class E6..6-4.... BookJ)..4ll5fi. Imprint GPO 16 — 7461 ADDRESSES SENATOR CHAUNCEY M. DEPEW \ DINNER GIVEN BY THE MONTAUK CLUB, OF BROOKLYN, ON SATURDAY EVENING, APRIL 21, 1900, IN CELEBRATION OF HIS BIRTHDAY AND AT GIRARD COLLEGE, MAY 19, 1900, AT THE CELEBRA- TION OF THE ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY OF THE BIRTH OF ITS FOUNDER, STEPHEN GIRARD WASHINGTON, D. C. JUDD & DETWEII.ER, PRINTERS 1900 « I., 4$. • r^-fc V At the Dinner Given by the Montauk Club, of Brooklyn, on Saturday Evening, April 21, 1900, in Celebration of His Birthday. Gentlp::men : For the ninth successive year you give me your hearty welcome and generous greeting on my birth- day. Your inspiring message has always been, " God bless you and good luck to you." In the kaleidoscope of the revolutions of time we have found something on each anni- versary in the experiences of the year which has intervened for discussion and reflection. The transition from private station to public life since we met here last April gives the thought for tonight. The differences between social life at the Capitol and in the metropolis and a view from the inside of the Senate as it is — and not as it is pictured — are perilous, but interesting subjects for the talk of this anniversary of 1900. Society is a term of as wide range as civilization. The social world illustrated by the late Mr. Ward McAllister has neither touch nor interest in that which met for years at Parker's, in Boston, every week, with Longfellow, .James Russell Lowell, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Whittier, and congenial friends at the table. The newspapers print news which their readers want, and the criticism of the paper should be directed against the sub- scriber. It is a singular commentary upon public curi- osity that one or more conspicuous columns in the press of large cities and of villages are filled with the doings of fashionable folks, while the feast of the gods at Parker's rarely receives a paragraph. One who travels much over the country finds in families which never liave met or seen, or ever expect to meet or see, the people in smart society in New York, Philadelphia, Boston, or Newport reading with avidity, to the exclusion of news about the war, the Govern- ment, or the markets, the descri})tions of dinners, dances, and dresses, and the names of hosts and guests. We have reversed the rule of classic days. AVhen Athens guided the thought and set the fashions for the ancient world, in the peculiar relations which women held to society at the Grecian capital, Aspasia established a salon. It is the first of which we have record, and in her parlors could be met all there was of distinction in war, letters, art, philosophy, or the stage, and all the reigning beauties. Apparently these gatherings and the balls and banquets received no public notice, while the dinners of Alcibiades and others, with Plato, Socrates, and the philosophers and orators as guests, were reported in full, and the conversations at these banquets have survived for the instruction and delight of succeeding generations for three thousand years. People are gregarious and love to meet each other to agreeably pass away time, some for mutual improvement and others for pleasure. Neither of these classes can criti- cise the other, and the world is large enough for all. The dancing set call the thinkers and workers bores and muffs, and the sages decr}^ the gay and happy crowd who chase the fleeting hours with flying feet as frivolers and fools- Both are wrong. Each group in its way is getting its share of the things which each believes makes life wortli the liv- ing. We have to recognize in recreation and pleasure, as we do in food and drink, that what is one person's meat is another's poison. The end to be attained is happiness, and the seeker is a success, whether he or she finds it by the head or the heels. The happiest men and women are those who are suffi- ciently broad, liberal, and cosmopolitan to be at home with the devotees of fashion, with authors, actors, artists, or poli- ticians, and can enjoy the freedom of Bohemia. The society of the national capitals is more interesting than that of great financial and commercial centers. On the other side of the sea, London, Paris, Berlin, Vienna, and Rome are conspicuous illustrations, and in America, Wash- ington. Government and governing and the rewards and honors of public life attract to the capital ambition, genius, and beauty. Political position and the official class, with their recognized precedence at both public and private functions, so level or lift, as you please to view it, social standar^ that brains and achievement are welcome at the most exclusive gatherings and receive honor and recogni- tion from those whose position is founded on ancestry or money. In elegance, refinement, and culture, the outward and visible forms of social life are the same in all large cities and fashionable summer resorts. The world of society in the city is closely built. The entrance is necessarily carefully guarded and creden- tials critically examined. There is a certain intimacy and camaraderie which calls for confidence and obligates the erection and maintenance of barriers against improper per- sons. The same people are continually meeting, and their interests become largely concentrated in each other. Social requirements occupy every hour of disposable time. Gen- eral reading or the study and discussion of current move- ments in religion, politics, art, literature, or science become impossible, talk about them stupid, and their representatives bores. I heard a charming New York social leader say, in the weariness of the close of a crowded season, " I wonder if it would be more lively and interesting to have with us some of the brightest literary freaks." At Washington the tremendous game of politics, national and international, draws in every one. All the residents, and strangers spending the winter at the capital, find them- selves suddenly having a deep interest in the cjuestions discussed in the Senate and House of Representatives and engaging the attention of the President and Cabinet. Cabi net ministers, ambassadors from foreign governments and their secretaries and attaches, Senators and Congressmen, army and navy ofhcers and accomplished under-secretaries, are met everywhere. The personal kaleidoscope is ever changing, and there is little talk about what people are doing. The subjects of conversation are rmj^ersonal and cover a wide range. Rough diamonds, rubbing against sympathy and understanding, become suddenly and exceptionally brilliant. A tactful host or neighbor discovers eloquent and enjoyable resources by starting a guest upon the deeds or ideas which have given him distinction. Every one reads so as to be up to date with the cabinet minister or ambassador or Senator or Congressman, and in reading and studying great ques- tions they find an unexpected field of pleasure and excite- ment. For those who are subject to mental labor, and, in a word, for all workers, relaxation is health for mind and body. Social pleasures soothe and rest the taxed brain and freshen 4 it for tomorrow's duties. A man or woman who cannot en- joy dining or meeting in any form of entertainment with friends and such strangers as they know about are unfortu- nately constituted. They are dissatisfied with tliemselves and disagreeable to others. Society, after all, is a sort of trust for mutual enjoyment. Every stockholder must contril)ute something to the general pleasure. Cynical sneers or platitudinous preachings have never affected it and never will. People want to be happj", and all forms of association and pleasant activity which are free from immorality or bad breeding are part of the good things which in various ways, adaptable to their years, smooth the pathway of life for childhood, youth, maturity, and old age. The cost of an entertainment has little to do with social enjoyment. Luxur}' is very good, if the host can afford it, but not necessary to a good time. I have found more pleasure in a two-dollar dinner at the Lotos club, when the lights of literature or the press were brilliantly scintillating, than in any number of ten-dollar ones. The most stupid and un- utterably boreous dinner I ever suffered through cost the giver thirty-six dollars a plate. I was at General Garfield's home, at Mentor, the day after Maine went Democratic. It was believe