Massachusetts, seemed to be a revival
of what we pictured in imagination as the statesmen who framed
the Constitution of the United States, or the senators who sat
with Webster, Clay, and Calhoun. He was a man of lofty ideals
and devotion to public service. He gave to each subject on which
he spoke an elevation and dignity that lifted it out of ordinary
senatorial discussions. He had met and knew intimately most
of the historical characters in our public life for fifty years,
and was one of the most entertaining and instructive conversationalists
whom I ever met.

On the other hand, Senator Benjamin Tillman, of South Carolina,
who was an ardent admirer of Senator Hoar, was his opposite in
every way. Tillman and I became very good friends, though at
first he was exceedingly hostile. He hated everything which
I represented. With all his roughness, and at the beginning
his brutality, he had a singular streak of sentiment.

I addressed the first dinner of the Gridiron Club at its organization
and have been their guest many times since. The Gridiron Club
is an association of the newspaper correspondents at Washington,
and their dinners several times a year are looked forward to with
the utmost interest and enjoyed by everybody privileged to attend.

The Gridiron Club planned an excursion to Charleston, S. C., that
city having extended to them an invitation. They invited me to
go with them and also Senator Tillman. Tillman refused to be
introduced to me because I was chairman of the board of directors
of the New York Central Railroad, and he hated my associations
and associates. We had a wonderful welcome from the most hospitable
of cities, the most beautifully located City of Charleston. On
the many excursions, luncheons, and gatherings, I was put forward
to do the speaking, which amounted to several efforts a day during
our three days' visit. The Gridiron stunt for Charleston was very
audacious. There were many speakers, of course, including
Senator Tillman, who hated Charleston and the Charlestonians,
because he regarded them as aristocrats and told them so. There
were many invited to speak who left their dinners untasted while
they devoted themselves to looking over their manuscripts, and
whose names were read in the list at the end of the dinner, but
their speeches were never called for.

On our way home we stopped for luncheon at a place outside of
Charleston. During the luncheon an earthquake shook