Octogenarians

The Pilgrims sat down to luncheon. The Pilgrims--the modern Pilgrims, not the Fathers, of course-are fond of such an amiable proceeding. By such means they seek to strengthen the bond of mind and tongue and blood (in part) of old England and new United States. So several times a year they surround a common board, listen to the lighter observations of ambassadors and dignitaries, rejoicing in the amenities and urbanities of Anglo-American relations.

Last week, the Pilgrims assembled in Manhattan for such an occasion. It was noteworthy in no particular manner, save that it brought together two patriarchs of U. S. politics. And patriarchs of politics they are. Yet the two have been only occasional politicians. They have been great figures in their time, have aspired to high offices, have failed of the highest.

In the toastmaster's chair sat Elihu Root, who in less than three months will attain to the honorable estate of octogenarian. In the chair of the guest of honor sat Chauncey M. Depew, who became an octogenarian more than a decade ago.

Said Toastmaster Root: "We are observing a contest in longevity between the bronze statue at Peekskill-- and the subject thereof."

Said the guest of honor: "There are many anniversaries which mark our journey through life. At 21 years of age we are welcomed to manhood and citizenship; at 60 and 70 we do not like to have the dates well-known because we wish to be considered younger; at 80 we begin to brag about our age; and when we enter upon the last lap or the century at 90, then the world rejoices and helps us along."

Thus Mr. Depew began one of those speeches that have made him America's after-dinner orator--the great postprandial patriarch of the Nation.

Root, the great master of logic, the brilliant mind; Depew, the master of eloquence, the brilliant tongue, sat there together, enjoying what has come to them as the rewards of their life work. Mr. Root has never so exactly put his reward in words as Mr. Depew once did when he said: "If I am known as an after-dinner speaker, I hope I am known also as a man who works. My dinners never have interfered with my business. They have been my recreation.

"Most men get their relaxation in cards. That makes them keep late hours in a room with bad air; and they drink too many cocktails. So the public says they have been killed by overwork; and they are lauded as martyrs to their activity.

"When I was young, I decided to make dinners my recreation. Speaking was very easy to me. Every man has his forte; and I suppose that is mine.

"I find that when I walk around my library table for an hour before dinner and think of the subject I'm to talk on, everything I have ever heard or read about that subject comes back to me. After my speech, I go home and am in bed about 11 o'clock. The next morning, I am fresh and ready to be at work on time. For years, I worked in my office without even going out to lunch --I ate it on my desk.

"At six o'clock I would go home and take a nap for ten minutes. Then I would find what I was to speak on and be ready to keep the engagement at eight.

"My digestion might have bothered me had I not been careful to eat the dinner just as I would have at home ... I experimented to find just what I could eat best. I soon determined to play with everything, but eat nothing except the roast and game courses. A public banquet, if eaten with thought and care, is no more of a strain than a dinner at home.

"Both men have eaten their roast and game and have progressed to coffee and cigars.

Mr. Depew's Career. For Mr. Depew, the roast and game was all eloquence. In school days, he was an athlete and a humorist rather than a student. Yale made him Bachelor of Arts in 1856 at the age of 22. His eloquence at once took him into the campaign of that year in which he supported the newly-born Republican Party. Two years later, his ability had won him admission to the bar; and he went that same year as a delegate to the State Convention of his Party. Two years later still, the historic campaign of '60 brought his persuasive tongue out of the law office and put him upon the stump. A year later, his golden tongue swept him into the New York State Legislature, although he ran in a Democratic district. Two years again passed, and making two speeches a day for six weeks running, he won the post of Secretary of State of New York. At 30, he was declining the post of Minister to Japan.

Yet, after ten years of success in politics, he turned away from it to business. Commodore Vanderbilt made him attorney for the New York and Harlem R. R. As the Vanderbilt railways grew, Depew grew with them until in 1885 he was made President of the New York Central.

In the meantime, he had an eventful career. On the one hand, as a lawyer and speaker representing the railways, his appearances before the U. S. Supreme Court became public attractions, much as Mr. Borah's speeches in the Senate are public attractions today. On the other hand, he turned ever and anon to politics. In 1872, he supported Horace Greeley for the Presidency, and ran for Lieutenant Governor of New York. Greeley and Depew went to defeat together. In 1881, he ran for U. S. Senator from New York. After the Legislature had been deadlocked for several weeks over the election, Mr. Depew withdrew in order that the deadlock might end and New York might be represented in the Senate. In 1888, he placed Benjamin Harrison in nomination at the Republican Convention, but on the first ballot got 9 votes to Harrison's 80. After a few ballots he withdrew his name--and Harrison won.

So it went. That he was an unequaled orator, none denied. He was the speaker on such great occasions as the unveiling of the Statue of Liberty and the opening of The Chicago Exposition in 1893. That he was an able lawyer was proved by his services to the Vanderbilt railways. But the political plums fell into the laps of others.

Mr. Root's Career. The career of Elihu Root, eleven years Mr. Depew's junior, has been in some ways a striking parallel. Mr. Root began as valedictorian of the class of 1864 at Hamilton College. At the age of 25, he had a good law practice in Manhattan. He was called upon to defend the notorious Tweed Ring; and, although he was partly successful, the incident turned out later to be a dubious feather in his political cap. It happened that he was the personal counsel of Chester A. Arthur. When Arthur became President, he was made a Federal Attorney and conducted some notable prosecutions.

Then in January, 1885, some ruffians in London exploded a charge of dynamite beneath Westminster Hall and damaged the House of Commons. A few hours later, Mr. Root addressed the Lotos Club in Manhattan, discussed the subject, as it applied to the allegation that the dynamite plot had been hatched in the U. S., showed how anarchists might prepare such plots here, even with the knowledge of our authorities who would be powerless to inter fere. As a result, our laws were amended so that dynamiters and an archists may be apprehended or extradited.

President McKinley, recognizing his ability, made him Secretary of War. Mr. Root first took prompt measures to put down Aguinaldo's insurrection in the Philippines. When peace came, he drafted the entire plan of the civil government which was given to the Islands. He like wise drafted a constitution for Porto Rico, and both were enacted by Con gress. For a time during the Boxer Rebellion in China, he was simultaneously acting Secretary of State, Secretary of War and Attorney General. After a time he was indeed shifted from the War to the State Department, but not until he had completely reorganized the War Department and created the office of Chief of Staff of the Army. He did great service to the cause of friendly relations in the Western Hemisphere by diplomatic journeys to Canada and to South America. He induced the Senate to ratify a convention providing for a U. S. commission to act practically as a receiver for Santo Domingo. He made a brilliant attack on William Randolph Hearst that helped to win Charles Evans Hughes the governorship of New York.

President Roosevelt, grateful, said of him: "He is the ablest man I have known in our Government service. I will go farther--he is the ablest man that has appeared in the public life of any country in my time."

When his Cabinet days were over in 1909, Mr. Root went to the Senate as a representative of New York, but the scene there was not to his liking and he left it gladly in 1915. In 1917, President Wilson sent him on a special diplomatic mission to Russia. Even later, he organized the World Court for the League of Nations. Slowly he approaches the time when, if the world can forgive him his clear, unimpassioned mind, it will "pat him on the shoulder."

Like Mr. Depew, Elihu Root has also missed his opportunity for the highest office in the land. In 1899, he was firm in his refusal to run for Vice President on the ticket with Mc-Kinley, and acceptance would have made him President, after McKinley's assassination, instead of Roosevelt. In 1916, he was one of the candidates before the Republican Convention, running, in the first two ballots, second only to Hughes whom he had helped to make. But, like Mr. Depew, he soon withdrew his name in the interest of harmony.

So these two dined last week, rich in honor, rich in years, but unadorned with the tokens of office.

*At Peekskill, N. Y., birthplace of Mr. Depew, there is a statue of him which is said already to be showing the marks of time.