g most highly both his own friendship and
the compliment from the president, I must decline.

General Grant's mistakes in his presidency arose from his possession
of one of the greatest of virtues, and that is loyalty to one's
friends. He had unlimited confidence in them and could not see,
or be made to see, nor listen to any of their defects. He was
himself of such transparent honesty and truthfulness that he
gauged and judged others by his own standard. Scandals among
a few of the officials of his administration were entirely due
to this great quality.

His intimacy among his party advisers fell among the most extreme
of organization men and political machinists. When, under the
advice of Senator Conkling, he appointed Thomas Murphy collector
of the port of New York, it was charged in the press that the
collector removed employees at the rate of several hundred per
day and filled their places with loyal supporters of the organization.
This policy, which was a direct reversal of the ideas of
civil-service reform which were then rapidly gaining strength,
incurred the active hostility of civil-service reformers, of whom
George William Curtis was the most conspicuous.

When General Grant came to reside in New York, after his tour
around the world, he was overwhelmed with social attentions.
I met him at dinners several times a week and was the victim
of a characteristic coldness of manner which he had towards
many people.

One St. Patrick's Day, while in Washington, I received an earnest
telegraphic request from Judge John T. Brady and his brother-in-law,
Judge Charles P. Daly, president of the Society of the Friendly
Sons of St. Patrick, saying: "The Sons are to have their greatest
celebration because they are to be honored by the presence of
General Grant, who will also speak, and it is imperative that you
come and help us welcome him."

I arrived at the dinner late and passed in front of the dais to my
seat at the other end, while General Grant was speaking. He
was not easy on his feet at that time, though afterwards he became
very felicitous in public speaking. He paused a moment until
I was seated and then said: "If Chauncey Depew stood in my shoes,
and I in his, I would be a much happier man."

I immediately threw away the speech I had prepared during the six
hours' trip from Washington, and proceeded to make a speech on
"Who can stand now or in the future in the shoes of General Grant?"
I had plen