church the people flock there to buy the land; they find real estate goes
up all around the spot, and the envious and the thoughtful always try to
get Twichell to move to their neighborhood and start a church; and
wherever you see him go you can go and buy land there with confidence,
feeling sure that there will be a double price for you before very long.
I am not saying this to flatter Mr. Twichell; it is the fact. Many and
many a time I have attended the annual sale in his church, and bought up
all the pews on a margin–and it would have been better for me
spiritually and financially if I had stayed under his wing.
I have tried to do good in this world, and it is marvellous in how many
different ways I have done good, and it is comfortable to reflect–now,
there’s Mr. Rogers–just out of the affection I bear that man many a time
I have given him points in finance that he had never thought of–and if
he could lay aside envy, prejudice, and superstition, and utilize those
ideas in his business, it would make a difference in his bank account.
Well, I like the poetry. I like all the speeches and the poetry, too.
I liked Doctor Van Dyke’s poem. I wish I could return thanks in proper
measure to you, gentlemen, who have spoken and violated your feelings to
pay me compliments; some were merited and some you overlooked, it is
true; and Colonel Harvey did slander every one of you, and put things
into my mouth that I never said, never thought of at all.
And now, my wife and I, out of our single heart, return you our deepest
and most grateful thanks, and–yesterday was her birthday.
TO THE WHITEFRIARS
ADDRESS AT THE DINNER GIVEN BY THE WHITEFRIARS CLUB IN HONOR OF
MR. CLEMENS, LONDON, JUNE 20, 1899
The Whitefriars Club was founded by Dr. Samuel Johnson, and Mr.
Clemens was made an honorary member in 1874. The members are
representative of literary and journalistic London. The toast
of “Our Guest” was proposed by Louis F. Austin, of the
Illustrated London News, and in the course of some humorous
remarks he referred to the vow and to the imaginary woes of the
“Friars,” as the members of the club style themselves.
MR. CHAIRMAN AND BRETHREN OF THE VOW–in whatever the vow is; for
although I have been a member of this club for five-and twenty years,
I don’t know any more about what that vow is than Mr. Austin seems to.
But what ever the vow is, I don’t care what it is. I have made a
thousand vows.
There is no pleasure comparable to making a vow in the presence of one
who appreciates that vow, in the presence of men who honor and appreciate
you for making the vow, and men who admire you for making the vow.
There is only one pleasure higher than that, and that is to get outside
and break the vow. A vow is always a pledge of some kind or other for
the protection of your own morals and principles or somebody else’s,
and generally, by the irony of fate, it is for the protection of your own
morals.
Hence we have pledges that make us eschew tobacco or wine, and while you
are taking the pledge there is a holy influence about that makes you feel
you are reformed, and that you can never be so happy again in this world
until–you get outside and take a drink.
I had forgotten that I was a member of this club–it is so long ago.
But now I remember that I was here five-and-twenty years ago, and that I
was then at a dinner of the Whitefriars Club, and it was in those old
days when you had just made two great finds. All London was talking
about nothing else than that they had found Livingstone, and that the
lost Sir Roger Tichborne had been found–and they were trying him for it.
And at the dinner, Chairman (I do not know who he was)–failed to come to
time. The gentleman who had been appointed to pay me the customary