There never was a hero who did not have his bounds.  I suppose it may be said of Nelson and all the others whose courage has been advertised that there came times in their lives when their bravery knew it had come to its limit.

I have found mine a good many times.  Sometimes this was expected—­often it was unexpected.  I know a man who is not afraid to sleep with a rattlesnake, but you could not get him to sleep with a safety-razor.

I never had the courage to talk across a long, narrow room I should be at the end of the room facing all the audience.  If I attempt to talk across a room I find myself turning this way and that, and thus at alternate periods I have part of the audience behind me.  You ought never to have any part of the audience behind you; you never can tell what they are going to do.

I’ll sit down.

THE DINNER TO MR. CHOATE

          AtA dinner given in honor of ambassador Joseph H. Choate at
          the lotos club, November 24, 7902

          The speakers, among others, were:  Senator Depew, William Henry
          White, Speaker Thomas Reed, and Mr. Choate.  Mr. Clemens spoke,
          in part, as follows: 

The greatness of this country rests on two anecdotes.  The first one is that of Washington and his hatchet, representing the foundation of true speaking, which is the characteristic of our people.  The second one is an old one, and I’ve been waiting to hear it to-night; but as nobody has told it yet, I will tell it.

You’ve heard it before, and you’ll hear it many, many times more.  It is an anecdote of our guest, of the time when he was engaged as a young man with a gentle Hebrew, in the process of skinning the client.  The main part in that business is the collection of the bill for services in skinning the man.  “Services” is the term used in that craft for the operation of that kind-diplomatic in its nature.

Choate’s—­co-respondent—­made out a bill for $500 for his services, so called.  But Choate told him he had better leave the matter to him, and the next day he collected the bill for the services and handed the Hebrew $5000, saying, “That’s your half of the loot,” and inducing that memorable response:  “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.”

The deep-thinkers didn’t merely laugh when that happened.  They stopped to think, and said “There’s a rising man.  He must be rescued from the law and consecrated to diplomacy.  The commercial advantages of a great nation lie there in that man’s keeping.  We no longer require a man to take care of our moral character before the world.  Washington and his anecdote have done that.  We require a man to take care of our commercial prosperity.”

Mr. Choate has carried that trait with him, and, as Mr. Carnegie has said, he has worked like a mole underground.